by Elizabeth Demarest
My twentieth birthday was the day my soul went for a swim in God’s healing river. This time it wasn’t the Amazon River I needed, I needed something out of another world a supernatural encounter with my God for my soul. I was so hurt I longed for more than just a sprinkle of something to make me feel good temporarily. I needed to dive into a river of healing. To walk to the edge and then dive headfirst towards a force stronger than my heavy chains. I swam deep past the shallow waters, into the dark blue waters, until I reached a depth of water that was clear as crystals, sparkling diamonds all around with God’s unlimited source of oxygen. His healing ran through every fiber of my being. This is the same river that is mentioned in the Book of Revelation, “Then he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming from the throne of God and of the Lamb” –Revelation 22:1.
Moments before my healing, I drove to my best friend’s house. That morning, as I looked at myself in the mirror, all I could see was anguish. I desperately needed to be free of it all. So, that day I chose courage over fear. Action over doubt. During the twenty-minute drive to her house, I was not alone. The voice of the enemy speaking lies was louder than the broken A/C in my car that was roaring and blowing hot air. The fight for my freedom was all too real. The battlefield in my mind intensified as I pulled up to her house.
I walked in and immediately started weeping. For the first time ever, I said the words I had only dreamt of verbalizing to someone other than myself, “I was molested when I was a child.” **Phew!** I felt like a heavy load was coming unglued, off my shoulders. Then in my pool of tears, a wave of freedom washed over me, and something supernatural happened. My scenery changed as I was suddenly transported to another dimension, like Lucy opening the wardrobe in The Chronicles of Narnia, but unlike Lucy’s stepping into an enchanted forest, I was stepping back into the nightmare I had fought so hard to erase. I found myself in a very familiar place—in the room—where I had been violated the very first time. Only this time in my wondering, I sat on the edge of the bed…unafraid! In my imagination, I noticed something new, an added piece
to the story, like a detective holding on to some new evidence. I had replayed these memories thousands of times and how did I miss this?
This time going back to my past, I saw that someone else was in the room. He stood to my far right by the door, a glimpse of a celestial being. I didn’t recall seeing Him in the backdrop of my hurt; there were no other adult’s other than my abuser when I was molested. But at this moment, I was proven wrong. And immediately, I could make sense of this vision, and I knew exactly who that person was. Jesus. He was present in the midst of my deepest hurt. He had never left me alone in my darkest moments. Then, I heard a comforting voice speak over me and say, “I was there in that room with you, Elizabeth; I never left you, and I saw you when you were hurting.”
Jesus Himself stood in the doorway of my pain. As I came back to the reality of what had just happened to me, an overwhelming freedom, hope and healing covered me, healing my soul, body, mind and emotions. Jesus healed me completely in that moment from head to toe! I share my story not because it’s something I enjoy writing about, but because I know what it’s like to hurt deep and to be healed even greater. No matter how deep your pain, Jesus is able to heal to the uttermost!
A third-generation missionary, Elizabeth continues to travel the world, leading teams on short-term trips to support indigenous ministries. Her passion is investing in young women, inspiring them to pursue purity and unearth their God-breathed dreams