by Theresa Classe

You may think this is a strange question, “Whose Voice Are You “Not” Listening to?” I would have thought that ten years ago, but I get it now.

It began in my early forties. My husband, my kids and I were on the way to the beach, on a road I had traveled many times before, when out of nowhere, I had a panic attack. These attacks continued over the next three years, to the point where I could not travel twenty miles from my home. No more vacations with the family. No more traveling with the kids. It all came to a halt.

I felt like I was losing my mind and decided to get some help. I learned I had buried painful memories deep inside. I did not know they were even there. They were buried alive and never processed. They were still living inside of me, and I was not even aware of it. No one knew, not even me. I was in need of healing.

In order for me to heal, I needed to process some of the memories. I needed to give them a voice which I did not have during the painful event. I had no one to listen to me and understand what I was going through during that time. My voice did not matter, so I locked it up. It became the voice I would “not” listen to because it was too painful. If I voiced it, what would happen? What would happen if I told someone? What would happen if I felt the pain? Would I go crazy? Would anyone believe me? Would it be safe? Would someone hurt me if I tell? These memories were shut off from the outside world including myself. This was my “Whose voice are you “not” listening to?”

One day, I was walking through Michael’s craft store. I began to notice certain items. These were items used for scrapbooking and were very tiny. I began to pick ones that stuck out to me. I was giving a voice to something inside. I picked out a monopoly board game, a teddy bear, a little girl doll, a birthday cake, books, white felt and a few other items. I then found a 7” x 5” x 5“ wooden box without a lid. I began to create a bedroom inside of this box that would have things that a little girl may want in her room. I put the white felt down for carpet and decorated the room with all the items I bought. I even decorated the sides of the box as if they were walls. I was giving myself a voice.

The next thing I did to give myself a voice was I cut out pictures and words from magazines. I flipped through a magazine and cut out whatever stuck out to me. I then put all these things I cut out in a pile and began to look at them. One by one I pasted them on a poster board. I was amazed at the end result. There was no order when I was cutting out the items from the magazines but when I began to paste them on the poster board, a story began to take place. I was giving myself a voice.

This was the beginning of giving myself a voice.

Along with this beginning of giving myself a voice, I began counseling and then moved into inner healing prayer. The counseling had some positive effects but was not able to get to the bottom of the “Whose voice am I “not” listening to” stuff. I started inner healing prayer and the real healing began. This was not an overnight fix. I began to trust those God put in my path to help me through this season of inner healing. I began to process my inner world with Jesus and those that l began to trust. This began my road to freedom.

Do you have any “Whose voice are you “not” listening too”? Do you feel stuck or triggered in areas of your life. I did. But through inner healing a whole new world opened up for me. I am now able to share my story and use my testimony to help others.

If you are in need to hear your “Whose voice are you “not” listening to,” I encourage you to make an appointment at The Inheritance House to begin your road to freedom.

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