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    Not A Survivor
    Not A Survivor
    Not A Survivor
    Ebook73 pages1 hour

    Not A Survivor

    By Margo Englehart

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Not A Survivor by Margo Englehart

    __________________________________

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCovenant Books, Inc.
    Release dateAug 5, 2021
    ISBN9781636305561
    Not A Survivor

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      Book preview

      Not A Survivor - Margo Englehart

      cover.jpg

      Not A Survivor

      Margo Englehart

      ISBN 978-1-63630-555-4 (Paperback)

      ISBN 978-1-63630-556-1 (Digital)

      Copyright © 2021 Margo Englehart

      All rights reserved

      First Edition

      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. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

      Covenant Books, Inc.

      11661 Hwy 707

      Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

      www.covenantbooks.com

      Table of Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 1

      Salvation Story

      I’ve been on the mountaintop. I’ve been in the valley. I’ve been in a deep pit. I’ve been in battle. I’ve been on a cliff. I’ve been in the darkness, and I’ve been in the light. I’ve soared among clouds. I’ve been mired in the mud. I’ve sung in the heavens among the stars. I’ve been buried alive. I’ve built a fortress, and I’ve seen it fall. I’ve been taught by angels. I’ve been defeated, and I’ve been victorious. I have received healing, and I have resisted healing. I’ve been an inspiration, and I’ve been a stumbling block. I have stood in the gap for others. Others have stood in the gap for me. I’ve been judged, and I have judged. More than anything else, I have always been loved. I have not always known that I have always been loved.

      This is a tale of the spiritual journey of a born-again Christian. It is not a generic tale like any other tale. Every Christian’s tale is unique; and yet like every other, for God, the common denominator is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Only God can take a lost soul and transform him or her to a victorious overcomer. When anyone says that they are a born-again Christian, no heads turn, no ears perk up, and the opportunity to hear a life-and-death struggle is almost always lost. Behind every child of God is an adventure worth knowing about. We encourage others with our testimonies, and we participate in defeating the devil with our testimonies.

      I would like to share with you a Satan-defeating testimony of God. The road to making a decision to give God my heart was difficult and designed by the devil to take me to destruction. Things started out pretty normal. I was born in Wheeling, West Virginia, and when I was two years old, my mother and I joined my dad in Japan where he was stationed with the US Air Force. My sister Georgia was born in Japan. From Japan, we moved to Spokane, Washington, where my brother Jeff was born. We then moved to Loring Air Force Base, Maine. My sister Carolyn was born while we were stationed in Maine, except that my mom had her in Wheeling, West Virginia. My dad resigned from the US Air Force when I was in the fifth grade, and we returned to Wheeling, West Virginia, where my brother Scott was born. So you have probably figured out that I am the oldest of five children. All seven of us lived with my grandmother (Dad’s mom) in her three-bedroom house. Eight people in a three-bedroom house? My uncle built a huge room and dormer in the attic which made a big difference. It is here that the road takes a sharp turn.

      When I was twelve, my dad raped me in the car down a dirt road in the woods, and I was a victim of incest for the next ten years until I graduated from college at the age of twenty-two. I spent the rest of my years at home trying to avoid being in the house at the same time as my dad. I remember praying to God to stop my dad from coming into my room or on some occasions to kill him. But God did not stop him or kill him, and I had to make a decision: either God did not exist or did not love me, or even worse, I was too bad for a holy untouchable God to bother with. All three were lies, but I decided to believe the last one—that I was bad. I received the shame that the devil sent my way. I was on my own. I became very hard on the inside, very aloof on the outside, and determined not to need anyone or anything. I became very good at showing the world a mask of Miss Perfect Person with total control and composure at all times. No matter how much my dad tormented me or teased me or stalked me at night, he could not make me cry. Talk about self-control and emotional lockdown!

      What clouded the picture even more was that my family, all seven of us, went to church every Sunday where we sat in the front pew. We participated fully in all church activities and gave the appearance of a good Christian family. My dad was the custodian at the church, a Boy Scout leader, and commanded the respect of our community. He was always ready and willing to help anyone if he had the means to do so. I even had to deal with the unpleasant conversations with my friends telling me that they wished they had a dad like mine. What made it so difficult is that he was a very smart man and everyone, even me, admired that.

      I went to college in Tennessee to get away from my dad, and it was there that I found what I thought was truth in the occult. There was power in the universe that could be tapped, and I wanted to tap in. It was all a matter of mind control—control was something I related to. The people who had it made were those with strong, well-disciplined minds; and I considered mine to be quite strong. The occult was something that appealed to me because there were no emotions to deal with, no judgments of right and wrong. What I did not count on was my own fear.

      I was afraid of everything. I was afraid of the dark, afraid of failure, afraid of losing control of my

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