This Battle is Not Mine, It’s The Lords.

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Imagine you are enjoying life; you are on a fantastic journey. You are relaxed, grateful that you have shed your pessimist and catastrophic mindset product of your unpredictable childhood. When doubts creep in your soul, you work on entertaining those thoughts by holding Romans 3:28 close to your heart. "God works for the good of those who love him." You are doing good, picking yourself up when something unexpected knocks you out. You know that is part of life. That's how I felt five years ago until I was reminded that I can never get comfortable in my walk with God. The enemy is like a prowling lion looking for someone to devour (1 Peter 5:8) 

I planned to visit my friend Jannett in San Diego. She asked me if it was okay to request that I share a devotional for the Spanish-speaking sisters and bring copies of my books to sale. Some of the sisters there already knew me. I have had the privilege to be used by God to be an International Women Speaker. I had traveled to Centro America to strengthen and encourage my sisters in Christ. Once I agreed, and she got the okay, we moved forward with the plan. This was exciting. It would be my first "speaking event" in the U.S., and it was special because it was going to be in the place where I became a disciple of Jesus back in 1996. It was going to take place at a sister's house with a group of about 25 women. The time we planned for me, was a sweet gift from God. Everything was arranged, the devotional prepared, and I was now waiting for the day to come to travel. 

A few weeks before my trip to speak in San Diego, my dad declined physically and mentally. He has schizophrenia. My uncle called and said, "your dad does not look good." The tone in his voice was alarming. I booked a flight to go to my home country that week. My uncle found my dad lying in bed a corpselike. 

On the way to Panama, I honestly believed it was going to be the last time I would see my dad. I wanted him to know I loved him. 

When I saw my dad, I wept inside. I had never seen him like that. We talked, and during our time together, he had a miraculous turnaround. I lived a miracle that weekend with my dad. He agreed to be admitted into a residential treatment facility. His psychiatrist would submit the paperwork on Monday. She was on vacation. I left on a Sunday. He was going to be admitted the next day. I was over the moon. 

 Monday morning, I talked to my dad. He was still on board. I called the doctor. She did not answer the phone. When I got through, her son gave me the sad news that she had passed away on her way back from vacation. I could not believe it. I felt so sorry for the family. I also knew this meant my dad will not get admitted.  He trusts very few people, and he had seen this doctor for over 30 years, so getting him to trust a new doctor would be nearly impossible.

I didn't want to tell him about the death, but we had to find a new doctor so he could be admitted. He was heartbroken by the news and did not agree to see a new doctor. Over time his mental condition took a turn for the worse. There were many sleepless nights from the helplessness I felt. 

During this time one morning, I woke up to a message from my sister, "Olivia, did you see the videos?" What videos I asked. Someone had recorded my dad behaving recklessly in the streets of one of the cities of my country of birth, Panamá. My heart sank. The producer of these clips wrote awful things about my dad. "This man is crazy. He has been left here to torture our city.  Our children are afraid to go outside. He needs to be admitted somewhere. His family has abandoned him." 

For a moment, I was frozen by what I saw. In the comment thread, I saw my siblings trying to reason with this person to understand that there was a perspective she was missing. She grew more fierce in her attacks. I continued to read the threads of comments where some agreed with her statements and some said; “leave Shepherd (it’s my dad last name and most people called him by his last name) alone, he is not hurting anybody. He has a mental illness.”

I always felt marginalized because of my dad's mental health condition, but this was different. It was on the Internet for everyone to see. As I read the comments, I decided to not respond. This woman was being unreasonable. As I read, I came across the following statement from her: "...and his daughter, Olivia, is traveling around the world helping women, and she can't even help her own father." I stared at the comment for a moment. Shame and embarrassment crept into me like lotion soaking into my skin. I began to respond, explain, reason, ask for her to become part of the solution, but I was unsuccessful in my attempt. Every comment was met with, "what you or your family are doing; it's not good enough." She had no idea how much she was hurting my family. She didn't know me. She did not know what I had personally done to help my dad. 

Three months before her video, I had traveled to my country on several occasions. As a family, we tried to get him help. The family that lived near him was also unsuccessful in getting him the help he needed. The answer was always the same, "unless he physically hurt himself or someone else, we can't admit him against his will." The only other option was the community coming together to petition, and no one wanted to take that on. 

As the posted videos caught more traction and that comment highlighted in my mind, I made a rash comment to my husband. "Clearly, this woman has been following me on social media. I don't want anyone to post any pictures of me doing any speaking events. I think I am going to cancel my trip to San Diego. I feel like I have become a target for Satan, and I DO NOT want to be a target. I want to go back to my normal life, no speaking engagements, and no books being published. Since God placed me on this journey, my faith has been tested. I just want to go back to my normal life." 

My husband hugged me and wiped my tears and then said something I hold to until this day: "honey, for your entire life, your dad has been the laughing stock in your neighborhood. Your exact words to me are, my dad is known as ‘The crazy man.’ Your dad's mental health is not new to you or anyone else for that matter. Why do you think that someone will video him right now? Why do you think that they will make such a specific comment about you? If you decide to hide, who you think wins this battle? Who do you think is trying to silence you? It is not that woman. You can choose to hide, but if you do, Satan will win. He wants to stop a woman who can have a tremendous impact for God." His words led me to cry and asking God for strength because choosing to move forward meant I officially agreed to enter a battle I could not win, "a spiritual battle." I decided to say God fight for me. I will not hide. I went on a Spanish Facebook group I facilitate called Tears of Joy, which is formed of women from the my church, including sister churches around the world. Many of these women had hosted me as a guest speaker for women events in their countries. I asked for prayers for my dad and went to sleep drained and exhausted. 

In the morning, rested but still emotionally exhausted, I had my time with God and checked the Facebook page. There were over 70 comments. They organize a prayer and fasting chain for God to intervene on my dad's behalf. Comment after comment said: don't worry; Olivia God will not forget you. These comments brought me to tears and ignited in me extra courage to not lose hope. I focused on getting help for my dad and preparing for my trip to San Diego, and of course, praying for a miracle or the strength to surrender.

Steve Brand, my life coach during this challenging time, provided me with some words of wisdom that helped me focus on what I needed to do instead of getting trapped in the social media talk about my dad. He said, "Olivia, don't respond anymore to this woman. You don't have to defend yourself. Stop looking at the videos, keep doing what you are doing, seeking help for your dad." After many tears, I chose to follow his advice.

 My dad went from bad to worse; he became so bad that he was found lying on the side of the road. It looked like he had been beaten. That is what led him to the hospital and eventually being admitted. This happened five years ago. My dad is currently off the streets, and he has surrendered to the idea that he needs to be in a residential facility and not living on his own. 

Sometimes the enemy wants to silence us. Staying close to God is the key to recognizing that there is a spiritual battle going on. Our life in this world is temporary. God designed us to leave a mark that makes clear that putting our hope in God is the best thing we can do in order to find true peace in this world. He does go before us and fights our battles for us. He wants you to win; we just need to trust him.

As for me, I did speak in San Diego and it was amazing! I went on to do more speaking engagements and have asked God to fight many battles as I continue to ask him for courage to not hide when he calls me to serve him in ways I never imagined.

 “Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the LORD will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:8 NLT


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