HE SENT A MAN TO FREE ME
Part 2

By: Ceci Sullivan

Ron called to invite me to his home. I called Michael to tell him I would be going to see him across town and he said the snowfall was very heavy, and the roads were hazardous, and I should visit another time, so I didn’t go. A few evenings later as Michael and I were watching the evening news, we were horrified to learn what Ron’s plans were that snowy evening. He had invited not only me, but my friend Lori, and Ron’s three children. His son was the only one who showed up. He was quite larger than Ron, but Ron managed to beat his son to death with a lamp. He then drove to Las Vegas, got into the bathtub, slit his wrists and committed suicide.

Incidents like these often make me wonder how many times the angels of God have guarded and protected us. I’m sure we’ll all be shocked to see how busy we have kept them. I used to stroll around parks at night, lost, lonely and confused, parks where women are raped and murdered on a regular basis. I was afraid of things I shouldn’t have been, and not afraid of things I should have been.

After four months of living with Michael, we married. We had the permission of the state, the Catholic, and Episcopal churches, who both gave us premarital counseling! Too bad they never suggested we turn from our godless, independent ways. They never even suggested we were serving ourselves, not Jesus. The words sin and fornication weren’t mentioned. We were happy doing our own thing, and we thought it made Jesus happy too. We cared little about Jesus anyway back then. We were doing our own thing and just expected God to put His stamp of approval on it, just as the state and church did. We never consulted with the inventor and ORDAINER of marriage. We were doing our own thing our own way. The church and state blessed us, and sent us on our way.

Neither Michael or I were facing the truth about ourselves. We watched soap opera’s and night sit-coms to avoid our life’s problems. We lived life deceiving and being deceived. Looking back, I knew something was wrong, but I had no idea what it felt like to live in honest, open relationships. We didn’t see how wrong it was to live life without a relationship with the one who created us, the one who has the blueprint to help us fulfill the master plan of our life. I was unfamiliar with the still small voice of God’s Holy Spirit. I ignored what I knew to be right by joining myself and submitting to a man of deceit. I obeyed my senses and lust, and selfish desires, and I reaped it in the relationship I chose. God was not mocked, what I sowed is what I reaped. It took years for me to see my ways were not God’s ways, I was sowing to my flesh, and reaping corruption. I know now I have to sow to the Spirit, to reap LIFE in Jesus.

Two months into my marriage, I became pregnant with our first daughter. Two weeks before my due date I had a dream Michael had killed someone. In horror I woke up so distressed I went into labor. He had come home late from work with his pants wet. He was drunk. I remembered as I folded clothes and watched the evening news, that a story came on about a girl being raped and murdered close by. It never dawned on me that was why he had come home with wet pants. I remember feeling afraid that someone in our neighborhood was murdered. Little did I know I was living with the murderer. I knew he was mean and lied, and drank too much. I called myself married, but felt so alone. I vowed “until death do we part,” but I couldn’t attach to him because of his dark, secret life. I had never really had anyone to attach to before, that loneliness that always haunted me was still ever present. I had my own compulsive problems, my own destructive comforts.

There were things I turned to because I didn’t know the peace and comfort of God, mainly overeating. I joined Over-eaters Anonymous. I remember coming face to face with my bad attitudes about God, and I blurted out a prayer. “God, if you’re real, please show me.” The next few months I started having a perception of evil. I could sense the darkness around me as never before.

I visited a neighborhood church. Many of the women were involved in Alcoholics Anonymous. I began thinking Michael might be an alcoholic. He was always lying, drinking, and he had a definite dark force around him. I ended up leaving him to help him face his problem. Two weeks later, he came to talk to me. He confessed his drinking problem along with criminal offenses he was responsible for. He told me about the infidelities he had committed. Late into the night, he told me he had done things God could not forgive him for. I said “well what did you do, kill someone”? In his silence and failure to respond, he was sending me a loud message. 

Yes, he had killed someone. I quietly left the room. My body was shaking and trembling. For the first time in my life I sensed a good whiff of hell. I was seeing the reality of heaven and hell, right before my eyes. I knew then, God was real, the devil was real, there was evil and good and I knew which side of the fence I wanted to be on. I walked and jogged around the neighborhood until the sun came up and I came upon the little church I had been attending. The priests were having an early morning meeting. They saw the horror on my face and sat me down to talk. I told them Michael had confessed to murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, brutal beatings, rape, and a whole string of crimes. I thought I was going to have a heart attack right there. I was three months pregnant and I started having a miscarriage.

We called Michael and had him come over to the church. He evasively confessed his sins. They told him he was an alcoholic, and he should stop drinking. They told him to go and sin no more, his sins were forgiven. Through the years, even though we spoke with many priests, pastors, and counselors, none of them ever suggested he turn himself in, or repent to those he had harmed. 

We began to faithfully attend AA. We learned about Michael’s disease. The truth is his disease was because he was holding the love of sin in his heart, and was demonized. He was given over to demonic spirits by his own will and lustful desires. We prayed regularly, but Ps.66:18 says when you hold the love of sin in your heart, God won’t hear you when you pray! I don’t think our prayers were going very far. We had surrounded ourselves with people who made many excuses for our sins, because they wanted excuses for their own sins. We got involved with self-improvement Christian programs. I talked to Priest after Priest, person after person. I knew we were really missing something, and things weren’t right. The still small voice of God wasn’t letting me be content in my false peace.

I rode the bus downtown to the library one day with our nine-month-old baby. I looked through old papers, scanned micro film for hours, and could find nothing. Somehow, I thought if I could come up with any specific information about certain crimes, I could go to the authorities. What about the mother of the woman he murdered? It seemed only right that he should tell her he was sorry and had a drinking problem, a disease like AA. was telling us he had. I know now calling his sin a disease was a sorry excuse for his lack of love for Jesus. He loved to commit crimes, and loved to think about committing crimes. That’s what no one was willing to be honest about. Looking back now, years after the fact, it shocks me to think of all the professionals we consulted, and that no one ever suggested to him he could get relief for his guilty conscience if he would turn himself in....."if you confess and forsake your sin, you will find mercy!"

We psychoanalyzed our past. We went to all kinds of therapy and counseling. We were hypnotized, we visualized Jesus, meditated, went through all our past memories pretending and acting out things that didn’t really happen. I read many books, and believed he would be all right if he didn’t drink. We blamed father, mother, sister, brother, the catholic church, the nuns, childhood events, anything to shift responsibility towards someone else. We accused others and excused ourselves, and of course “the devil made me do it” seemed like the best of excuses. I searched and psychoanalyzed him for years to find answers for why men lust and rape. (They lust and rape because that’s what they want to do!) My oldest sister gave me a book called “Inside The Criminal Mind.” That was when the dark things really began coming into the light. Jesus said it’s my FOOD to do the will of Him who sent me. I started seeing it was Michael’s food to commit and think about committing crimes.

We attended church, counseling, and AA. regularly. All was looking well on the outside, but deep within, there was a big disturbance in the force. We had two more children over the next few years. I was awakened by a loud banging at the door one night, our third child was just a few months old. Michael had a late night job at a convenience store, and I assumed he had just gotten home. I heard him yell at me, “bring me a towel,” from the livingroom. At the door was a young woman who lived across the street. She said she had been raped by a Hispanic man. We called 911, and when the police arrived, she proceeded to tell the account of her attack. I remember feeling numb inside as I sensed the still small voice of God telling me something was wrong. I couldn’t go back to sleep. That morning I went to see one of the priests who had counseled us. I told him I couldn’t live with Michael, because every time I heard of a rape, I feared it was him. I came away from my session with the priest’s words ringing in my ears, “Why can’t you forgive, forget, and move on with things in your life?” I just assumed all was my fault and I was being paranoid over nothing.

We even started getting secular counseling (they could, and should have turned him in), and Michael always had a way of shedding a bad light on me to get the heat off himself. As the days went on I felt in my heart Michael had raped the women across the street. I even went to help her move out of her house and ask her more questions, to see if I could put my suspicions to rest. He was such a good criminal, and did such sneaky things to discredit the crime scene towards looking to him as the criminal, things like wearing size 14 boots, when he really wore size 12. The girl he raped said the rapist didn’t speak English, so I thought I was just unable to cope with the past. The clergy recommended biofeedback, transcendental meditation and hypnosis to help me deal with my fear and stress. We also had a fire in our home shortly after that, so I put the incident on the “back burner.”

Another home, another baby later, another disturbing incident happened to shake the false peace we lived in. Michael’s business partner came over one morning and announced his next door neighbor had been raped. I had noticed Michael lusting after her before. (He had a really sneaky way of moving his eyes around without moving his head). Some women fail to see the messages they give men by the way they dress. Men justify acting like dogs when women dress seductively, not that they are justified. Anyway, deep in my heart, I wondered if Michael had done it. After asking him a few questions, he turned the light on his partner. He told me what a bad problem with lust the guy had, and how he was trying to help him by sharing his testimony with him. I swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. He always knew what to say.

To be continued...please click here for Part Three

Special Note:  If you would like to go to the ministry website of sister Ceci, click here:  http://jumpforjesus.net/