Original Design: Set Free to be Who God Created

Copyright © 2016 by Denise Buss

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at the address below.

P.O. Box 2113, Maple Grove, MN 55311

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www.CloverFieldsPublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Heidi Sheard

Cover and interior design: Purpose Design

Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked MES are taken from The Message. Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Publishers Cataloging In Publication

Buss, Denise.

Original Design: set free to be who God created / Denise Buss.—1st ed.

p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-9903583-7-4 (softcover)

ISBN 978-0-9903583-3-6 (IE)

1. Christianity. 2. Freedom in Christ. 3. Spiritual authority. 4. Deliverance. I. Title.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015908842

I dedicate this book to my heavenly Father,

my Savior Jesus, and the Holy Spirit who

guides me into all truth.

And to all those who are poor in spirit,

brokenhearted, captive, blind, and oppressed.

I WOULD LIKE TO GIVE SPECIAL THANKS to Ed Caton. If not for his obedience to God and his devoted friendship I would have a very different story to tell. He has helped me spiritually, emotionally, and financially, and I am forever grateful. You are my most cherished friend.

Hannah Mae, I thank you for the many times you sacrificed our time together so I could be obedient to God. You are truly my precious gift from above.

I want to thank my mom for believing in me even when she doesn’t understand my decisions. I appreciate your love, kindness, and generosity to Hannah and me.

Thank you, Kristi and Dick Strassburg, for your endearing friendship, prayers, and financial help.

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Foreword

Introduction

1  The Crisis

2  Set up for Destruction

3  Validation

4  God’s Invitation

5  The Subtle Pulling Away

6  The Wake-up Call

7  Who is My Father?

8  Authority in Christ

9  Killing the Old Man

10  Fear Not

11  Butter Melts

12  Leaving the Station

13  The Great Physician

14  Casting Crowns

15  New Territory

A  Steps to Salvation

B  Baptism in the Holy Spirit

C  Authority and Power of God

MORE AND MORE PEOPLE are being hit with depression, fear, and anxiety. Mind-altering drugs and sleeping pills have become regular items in many medicine cabinets. People are searching for the peace that eludes them. Denise Buss was no exception. She became paralyzed by fear and anxiety and couldn’t see a way out. As Denise’s story unfolds in the pages of this book, you will find encouragement that you are not alone. And even more importantly, you will see that there is a way out of the oppression that torments you or someone you love.

When Denise cried out to God for help, her heavenly Father sent someone to bring about God’s plan for her life. Her courage and obedience to God broke the demonic hold that Satan had on her. Denise’s most important realization was that it wasn’t just one incident that put her in this pit of agony, but layers and layers of wrong thinking and abuse. Therefore, it was going to take not just a renewal of her mind, but also deliverance and inner healing. Forgiving wrongs that had been done to her was an important step to her spiritual freedom. Because Denise was willing to make the effort and be persistent, her life was transformed into His Original Design—the glorious creation God had always intended it to be. You may not have a friend like she did to walk you out of your imprisonment, but we all have the precious Holy Spirit, the Helper, to guide us into freedom.

Original Design is a treasure chest of personal stories, valuable examples, and the most relevant Scriptures. If you are seeking the peace and happiness that our Father intended for us to enjoy, Denise’s experience, as told in this book, will give you a boldness to put on the Armor of God and fight against the enemy who works to destroy us all.

—Peggy Joyce Ruth, author of Tormented, Eight Years and Back, Trust the Lord and You will not be Disappointed, and several books for various ages titled, Psalm 91: God’s Shield of Protection.

WE ARE HURTING, BROKEN PEOPLE—whether our wounds are visible to us or not. Having been bruised by life in one way or another, we need the Great Physician to heal us—body and soul. This requires dealing with matters of the heart; personal, painful matters that if left unattended will cost us in our relationships with others and more importantly with God.

This is not a story about a tragic childhood. It’s not just another book on transformation. This book shows that there are spiritual consequences to the common events and choices in our lives. You’ll see how Satan used my life experiences to distort my beliefs about God and myself. Satan’s ultimate plan was to destroy me, but if he couldn’t succeed, then at least he would prevent me from becoming who God created me to be and doing what God intended me to do. The power of God is bigger than any scheme of the devil!

Original Design is primarily derived from nearly eighty prayer sessions with my pastor friend, Ed, spanning over a period of three years. Ed and I quickly realized that the Holy Spirit was actively speaking and working during these intense prayer times, so we recorded each session to preserve the accuracy of His great work.

Initially, prayer meetings were held because the devil was jeopardizing my life in a specific way. I usually came to God in great distress; filled with fear or despair, and desperate to hear from Him. God not only used our prayer sessions to rescue me from the attacks of the enemy, but He also revealed secrets and unburied lies hidden deep in my heart. Once God exposed and removed them, He replaced them with His truths. As time went on, I changed from a helpless girl cowering in the corner to a mighty soldier in God’s army; from seeing myself as a worthless, unwanted burden to a favored daughter of the King. As the Holy Spirit intimately embraced my heart and mind, I was set free from the works of Satan and my wounds were healed.

Each prayer time had at least one gift of the Spirit in operation. The gifts of the Holy Spirit are listed in 1 Corinthians 12:7-11. "But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the profit of all: for to one is given the word of wisdom through the Spirit, to another the word of knowledge through the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healings by the same Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another discerning of spirits, to another different kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. But one and the same Spirit works all these things, distributing to each one individually as He wills."

The subject of tongues is found many places in the New Testament and the Apostle Paul spent the better portion of forty verses in 1 Corinthians 14 discussing the topic of tongues, including interpretation, and also prophecy. Paul said when we pray in tongues we do not speak to men, but to God and we edify ourselves in the process (1 Cor. 14:2-4). Paul wanted all the believers in the Corinthian church to speak with tongues (1 Cor. 14:5), so we can assume he desired this for all believers everywhere.

I believe the gift of tongues listed in 1 Corinthians 12:10 is different from the tongues Paul often talked about—the tongues we receive when we are baptized in the Holy Spirit. The former can be given to a believer by the Holy Spirit anytime He wants. Since it’s given as the Holy Spirit wills, a person may only be able to speak in tongues once and never again. In contrast, when a believer is baptized in the Holy Spirit, the ability to speak in tongues is indefinite (see appendix C). This is the type of tongues that Ed and I have, and it was used to some degree in almost all of our prayer sessions. We prayed in tongues to strengthen our spirits and this helped us to be more tuned in to the Holy Spirit within us.

Most of the time interpretation wasn’t needed. First Corinthians 14:2 says, For he who speaks in a tongue does not speak to men but to God, for no one understands him; however, in the spirit he speaks mysteries. Tongues, when used in our personal prayer time, does not need to be understood by us or anyone else to be effective. Even so, God gave Ed the gift of interpreting my tongues on a few special occasions.

Most of the information I received from God came through Ed in the form of words of knowledge. This knowledge originated in God, and Ed was but a conduit for these supernatural, God-imparted words. Without these God-given disclosures, Ed could not have helped me. These insights not only gave us strategies during spiritual warfare, but also unlocked the secrets and mysteries of my past so they could no longer be hindrances to my deliverance and healing. Often times having information wasn’t enough. In those situations, God gave Ed a word of wisdom so we could apply the knowledge He’d given us.

A few times, Ed also received the gift of prophecy. This gift entails receiving a message from God and having an anointed utterance to communicate it. Prophecy usually involves foretelling future events, but it can sometimes simply refer to declaring God’s will. It is always done under revelation or inspiration from the Holy Spirit.

There were instances when both Ed and I were given the gift of discerning spirits. This gift gives insight into the supernatural realm and can be helpful in a few different ways. There were occasions when the Holy Spirit gave Ed the ability to discern my heart, thoughts, or feelings. Other times, when either of us received this gift, we were able to perceive evil spirits in or on people, on objects, or in the environment around us.

Acts 2:17 says, And it shall come to pass in the last days, says God, that I will pour out of My Spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions, your old men shall dream dreams. Both Ed and I had visions during our prayer time and we each had several God-given dreams. Many times we didn’t know what the dreams meant until God gave Ed a word of knowledge to explain them.

The gifts of the Holy Spirit are our supernatural God manifesting Himself through His people. They ought to be a regular occurrence throughout our walk with God and should not be viewed as unusual or only for those crazy charismatics. I ask you to keep an open heart and mind as I share my story with you. Let the Holy Spirit bear witness with your spirit that His gifts are available to help set you free!

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy.

—-John 10:10

IT’S MY FINAL NIGHT in the second-floor guest room of my parents’ apartment complex. My death is imminent. While my four-year-old daughter sleeps just a few feet away, I’m in hand-to-hand combat with the devil himself.

I had recently started taking sleeping pills so I could function in my job. I was afraid to take the medication when I was alone with my daughter, so in the evenings we went to my parents’ apartment to sleep. This was my only option for relief to my situation. I didn’t want anyone to know how much I was struggling, and I knew my parents wouldn’t ask questions. After sleeping there a couple of nights, the manager informed my mom that their policy forbids overnight guests. Since management had this rule, they kept rooms available on the second floor for visitors to use on a short-term basis. My mother offered to rent us one for a few nights, and I accepted. The guest room was simple, just one room with a double bed and a bathroom. I didn’t sleep any better here, but I did have a sense of security with my parents in the building in case I needed them for support.

It’s now our third night in the guest room and the devil escalates his attack. As I pace the floor between the bed and the bathroom, he spews words of death and destruction at me. He pounds my mind with thoughts that God has not forgiven me for neglecting Him and has turned His back on me.

I believe Satan’s lies that I’m rejected, and I’m horrified at the thought of a future without God. I’m filled with terror as the Evil One torments me with visions of Hell. I see myself crying in agony, gnashing my teeth. Worms eating away at my flesh. It’s a picture of everlasting darkness and suffering for all eternity—with no hope of escape.

In an attempt to fight the growing darkness and fear, I quote prayers from a scripture confession book. As I speak the prayers, my heart pounds and the knot in my stomach tightens so much so that I can barely walk. I do my best to cling to God’s Word; professing that I’m inseparable from God’s love and that with God, I can stand against Satan.

The devil is not deterred by my feeble attempt to resist him and his lies. I cannot see him, but I sense him walking alongside of me laughing. I can almost feel his breath on my face as he ridicules, You don’t even believe what you’re saying. Besides, prayer won’t help. God has already cast you out. It’s too late for you.

The clock on the bedside table reads 1:00 a.m. Exhausted, I lie down in bed, hoping to get some rest. As soon as I pull the blanket up to my chin, I’m overwhelmed with an impulse to run out the door and fling myself over the balcony. The fall to the foyer floor would surely kill me, I thought.

I look at my daughter sleeping peacefully and imagine her reaction when she sees my body splattered on the tile in a pool of blood. This powerful impulse toward suicide is not mine. Who in their right mind would think such thoughts! Still, the voices urging me to kill myself are undeniably strong. All I can do is cry out to God for strength and beg Him to have mercy on me.

By the grace of God, I make it through the night. When my daughter awakens, I help her get dressed and take her downstairs to have breakfast with my parents. Without a word, I return to our room and sit on the edge of the bed. The accusations continue with a vengeance.

With my narrow escape from suicide the night before, I realize I can no longer fight the devil on my own. I am mentally and physically exhausted from weeks of high anxiety affecting my ability to eat and sleep properly, and I’m spiritually weak with no defenses. I’ve done all I know to do. It’s not enough. Something has to change.

The past two years had been a rough season with the demands of work and family life and I had been neglecting my time with God. I was employed as a nurse practitioner, caring for people with liver disease. I enjoyed the job itself, but in addition to an eight-hour work day, I spent two hours in the car commuting. On the way home each day, I picked up my daughter and then rushed to make dinner and salvage what was left of the evening. Most nights and weekends were spent at gymnastics or soccer and trying to manage life as a single mom. During this period of time, my relationship with God became lukewarm at best.

I was estranged from God until recently, when He opened my eyes to my half-heartedness and showed me the painful truth that I was no longer sensitive to the Holy Spirit. I cried out to Him for forgiveness and asked Him back into my life. As I read the Bible, it came alive to me again and brought life and encouragement to my soul. Though I was tired, I started praying in the evenings and God blessed me with renewed energy, joy, and devotion to Him.

This fresh allegiance enraged Satan. He began to engage me in a series of mental skirmishes to thwart my renewed commitment to God. He scattered seeds of doubt about God’s love for me and my salvation. After a few weeks, Satan’s lies became like weeds tangled in my heart, and anxiety and sleeplessness flourished. Now struggling in this guest room, where can I turn for help?

I decide to call my pastor friend Ed and tell him I am in a crisis. He offers to meet me at my house at noon to pray. I phone my sister and tell her I’m having some emotional problems and that I need her to come get my daughter Hannah and care for her until I can work through my issues. She’s confused by this, but knows by the sound of my voice not to ask questions.

I go downstairs to my parents’ apartment to tell my mom that Dawn is coming to pick up Hannah. Thankfully, my parents had the sense not to say much. They just let me say my goodbye to my daughter. I lean down and whisper, I love you.

I love you too, Hannah says, just as she always did. Her bottom lip quivers and her arms stretch toward me for a hug. She knows something’s wrong with her mama. Surely she must realize that I might never come back for her. I wrap my arms around my precious girl and reassure her, Auntie Dawn will take good care of you. And I will see you soon. I leave in tears.

It is my darkest hour. I’m no longer capable of caring for my daughter, or even for myself. I don’t know if I’m going to live or die, be sentenced to Heaven or Hell. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to function well enough to be a mom again.

No weapon formed against you shall prosper, and every tongue which rises against you in judgment You shall condemn.

—Isaiah 54:17

I GREW UP IN A HOME where God was acknowledged, but not obeyed or invited into our daily lives. Without God’s guidance, my parents couldn’t help but follow Satan’s leadings, and he used them to spawn a distorted self-image in me. This was the foundation on which Satan built his plan of destruction for my life.

My dad was the youngest of six children and the son of an alcoholic who physically and verbally abused his mother. After serving in the Navy during World War II, he felt compelled to move back in with his parents to protect his mother from his father’s abuse. He stayed there until the age of twenty-six when she died. He had two failed marriages before he met my mother. She became his third wife and the only one with whom he had children.

My dad rarely talked to me or looked at me. He certainly never showed me any affection. I wasn’t allowed to sit on his lap or give him hugs and kisses. He frequently degraded me and called me names such as dumb and stupid. He criticized me for the Bs on my report cards, once scolding me so much that I ran into my bedroom and hid in the closet and cried.

One night when I was seven, as I lay in bed, I looked down the hall into the bathroom and saw him shaving. When he noticed me watching him, he shot me a look of disgust and slammed the door. I felt worthless.

Dad continued to reject me throughout my childhood, seeing me as nothing more than a bothersome obligation. I often heard him complain to my mom that his children cost him too much money. My mom tried to explain my dad’s behavior by telling us that he never wanted children. Her painful words only sealed the message in my heart; I was an unwanted burden.

Despite my dad’s disapproval, I tried hard to please him. I did my best to be quiet, do my chores, and get good grades. In spite