“I’m no more special than anyone.”

– Gabe Cordell

“Letters to the Father” #2

Fiction: Based on a True Divine Conversation

By Suzanna T.

This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character, or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.

[“Letters to Annabell” and “Letters to the Father” are related entries and portray conversations between a Girl and her Father, the Living God]

Dear Father,

Tell me the truth. Am I losing my mind? Have I lost my sanity after only thirty-two years? Am I in danger of losing my soul?

There are billions of eyes in the world, and I feel that they are all on me. I don’t understand what they want or how they found me. I am a nobody, Father…Nobody. What do they want with me?

Father, I tell you that the enemy has found me. It called to me in the night as I slept. I woke to the sound of a familiar voice calling to me with unusual clarity. I opened my eyes and prepared to go to her when I remembered that she was fifty-three miles away. So I didn’t move, thinking that I was dreaming. That’s when it rushed in with violent swiftness and mounted itself upon my chest. It sucked the breath from me in an agonizing stream. No oxygen could get in or out of my lungs. The man whom I bear so many complaints was snatched out of his slumber by the sound of my torture. He touched me, breaking the hold the demon had on me.

Oh, Father! Tell me I’m not crazy. Even the man beside me was curious. “What was that? What happened? What did you see?” he poked and prodded. However, I could not tell him. How could I? From another human, I could only expect disbelief…or fear. I want no part of instilling either.

Still, he would not have inquired if he didn’t feel it too. I’m not crazy. I’m not. Tell me that I am not, or should I pray that I am? For if I am not mad, then all of this is real. I can’t ignore it anymore. How do I fight such an enemy? How do I defeat a nemesis such as this?

What does it want and why me? I am no one. I’m nobody. Still, this thing has followed me all the days of my life, and I cannot understand why. Why does it want to destroy me? Why does it threaten my children?

Who am I, Father? Who am I?

Anxiously awaiting your reply,

Your daughter,

Annabell Lee