Sacrifice of Issac

I just published 6 latent comments without reading them. I will respond to each when possible, but at this time, I'm back online. I shouldn't have quit writing, but actually followed orders to quit. What has happened?

I will say this: I used to think I would write a "book" one day. Last time I told someone even half of what has happened, they said it'd better be a trilogy. Then, today someone said just one small incident I was describing sounded like something out of a Stephen King novel. I think that's aptly put. Steven King.

I'm 33. I remember anticipating this year of my life, as events unfolded and my problems worsened, as I angered more people, and lost every shred of fear of what anyone could do to me: I was finally free and unfettered, and yet...I knew I would be punished for it. "33 is the year of the crucifixion" I told someone on my birthday. They asked what I meant by that and I laughed and said I've gone through every station of the way of the cross except the actual hanging. I hadn't felt the nails in my hand but what came before was bad enough. Now, I bear the marks of the nails. Or, I'm still hanging, and the only thing saving me and not saving me is that I'm not afraid to die.

I'm not afraid to die for the truth, for principles, for what I believe in, what I write, or what I say. My hope is hope in itself, that my only chance of resurrection is to accept the death of what I was before, to be raised to something greater. How this will happen is beyond me. I have hoped for so long that the truth would be revealed in various circumstances I've been through, when I've been accused of making things up, or imagining things. And faith availed nothing. Yet I cannot lose hope as long as I live and breathe. I am chastised for not conforming and allowing things to happen to me or others without accountability, but should I give up my voice, and lose my integrity, I couldn't live with myself. One must be able to live with themselves before they can live with others.

Some would say that is precisely why one should conform, and yet if the conformity is not genuine, how does the saying go? "(One could) gain the whole world and yet lose his soul..." I cannot give up who I am and my voice, and I cannot give up the truth, for any man or woman. I am obligated to God alone. And when it comes down to even family, and even down to my son, my only begotten son, the joy of my life and my reason for living, if there is a choice to be made, what shall I choose?

If I am asked to recant my existence and God-given purpose and my calling, or lose my son...What kind of choice is that? Recant the truth or lose your son. If I recant the truth now, and submit and conform, I am told I have a chance to take my son back. The son I slept with every night and held and rocked; played with and teased; loved with everything in my being. How could I choose my own integrity over my only son? My son is made a barter, and leverage, and taken from me, has inflicted the worst wounds conceivable. I suffer and my heart breaks, but I had to ask myself what is more important and what is best in the long-term.

I saw Joan of Arc with Milla Jovavich a few days ago. At the stake, she was told to sign a document to recant her visions, and then told this would be what saves her. They burned her anyway. I would feel the fire before the flames ever burned.

As a human being and a devoted mother who has told everyone her first love is her son, my natural instinct is to turn upon myself and deny everything and recant and conform myself as I know I could, to be acceptable and pleasing. For the sake of my son. But what of the truth? And if my son has me now, he is happier, and yet what will he know and learn of me when he is older? What role model do I wish to be for my son and what kind of man do I hope he will one day be? I have always wanted my son to grow into his own person, and yet I do hope he finds courage and strength from my example. Be brave and strong my dear child, because one day you will read this and know I loved you more than my own life and yet not more than the Truth or God. We are called to love ourselves and to love one another, but the first and foremost commandment is to Love the Lord Your God With All Your Heart and if He is the Truth and the Truth shall set you free, I cannot and will not deny what has happened to me or been happening to me AND to my son.

I have come to new conclusions and have better evidence now of what was happening, but although most will never believe or understand and I'm well enough to know this, I cannot sacrifice integrity for anything, not even for the temporal gain of my son. I love you Oliver. I love you more than my own life. But I must listen to my conscience and I pray in the end my choices will serve us well.