B O R N O F F I R E M E D I A
Bright Shining Light
R E V E R E N D G R E Y
G r a s p t h e J e w e l t h a t s h i n e s
F r o m t h e A s h e s o f D e c e i p t
Everything the Grey One did, everything I found, went into the ‘Cellar of
Secrets’, padlocked with an unspoken agreement of silence.
Forwarded by Lyndon Bowring ~ Chairman Care ~
Elaine describes her deep sorrow at how pornography steadily stole the man she loved and allowed the sinister alter ego 'Mr Grey' to take over.
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I was weak in the struggle against my own demons. I wanted to sleep; I didn’t
want to wake up. Hear me! I wanted to sleep ~
I didn’t want to die.
Elaine's husband writes ~ Since being exposed the shame guilt and engulfing darkness has been a torment to live with...
Their daughter added ~ As i continued to read the book found i was increasingly angry with my mother. Angry at her for her silence... I found myself saying in a rather raised voice,
THEN LEAVE MOTHER!!!!
A B O U T
Elaine. C. Johnston
Elaine Johnston is first and foremost a Christian and a mother who places her faith and family as her first priority and they’re the core of all she loves protects and values.
She views her now adult children as her greatest success, not because she was in anyway a perfect mother. They suffered her many failings faults and flaws and in spite of them they are extremely kind generous responsible people who are successfully attaining high levels of achievement, qualification and competencies as they work and raise their own children.
Elaine is creative and enjoys designing her own bespoke pieces of work. Her creativity is also seen in her writing.
She is a dreamer and a visionary with a limitless imagination for originality and production.
B L O G
I would like to take an opportunity to converse following the release of Reverend Grey.
From the outset I was prepared for the many varied reactions and responses, thoughts and feelings from family, friends and others whom I don't know.
I appreciate and accept everyone's entitlement to react, approve or disapprove, according to how they are affected and influenced by Reverend Grey, regardless of having read it or not.
Each persons opinion and conjecture is theirs to hold from where, who or whatever source it is based on ~ I 100% respect that.
However I would like to acknowledge personally the responses that I have been made aware of and I am sure their are plenty more to come. I accept and welcome them all.
Briefly, I need to confirm there have been many, mainly private, encouraging and positive responses and comments for which I am deeply grateful.
There has also been opportunities to listen to the troubled and broken ones who are suffering as I was.
I am profoundly humbled that wives have felt safe and confident in my discretion, to speak to me.
Also in a few sensitive words, and for the love, concern and appreciation I have for my fellow men. If 42% of Christian men in the U.K. admitted in a private poll to having an addiction to porn, in any group of 10 Christian men, potentially, at least 4 are addicted.
For this reason I can totally understand why men will want to keep this subject silent and buried, as my husband did, because at the moment there is nowhere for them to go.
It is my purpose and hope that Reverend Grey will provide such a place.
Be very very thankful if pornography has not entered your families peripheral sight.
One truth ~ Many perspectives.
A number of people can stand beneath the sun on a cloudless day.
Truth: The sun is shining, there will be shadows.
To one their shadow falls straight ahead, to others the shadow falls to the right or left or half way between.
To others there is no shadow in their view because they cannot see it. It's there behind them.
For them to see their shadow they will need to change their perspective. They will need to move, to realign themselves to another reality.
Life casts many shadows in our field of vision, meaning we can become focused only on how and what we see or perceive something to be.
Reverend Grey has cast some shadows that I would like to address with love and warmth to my friends.
"It's too soon, she should have waited until they're both sorted"
Valid point. I may have advised another person the same way. I talked this through to a couple of friends also with my husband and family, offering my reason for releasing the book whilst still in the aftermath of exposure.
Many autobiographies have been written about painful and life altering catastrophes years after the event, when the pain had subsided.
Many subjects and situations would require the wisdom of this without question.
I genuinely wanted to write from the centre and source of our all consuming suffering, I felt it was important to our specific experience to convey the consequences of
secret sins and the sequence of events that followed in real time,
rather than in an historic account.
Realising it would make it tough for the readers who know us well and possibly cause opportunities for offence to be taken.
Which I honestly do not revel in.
My objective was to create the biggest, noisiest and bloodiest impact in my effort to warn against and ward off temptations to the sinister practice of
sexual internet indiscretions.
Plus. When will I be sorted? If ever on this earth?
"She's cashing in on her pain"
This was a hard one to swallow... Gulp! It's down and out through the system now.
Cynical and sceptical perspectives are not beyond anyone of us and I accept I positioned myself for such.
I cannot prove to, or convince anyone of my hearts motivations ~ it is futile to try should this be anyone's perspective.
I counted it crucial to my relationship with God, my husband and family, to continually examine my motives throughout the process. I could not live with peace and joy in my heart if in my conscience if it was about 'cashing in'?
"If I was a member of her church I would feel angry with her"
"I trusted her, she shouldn't have remained silent"
I understand, I am sorry for the contribution I made to deceive.
This was quite offensive, but I'm not offended.
Not only could this comment have offended me, but also all who have contributed to Reverend Grey, by insinuating they have all endorsed gossip.
I know that they all searched their hearts and asked me questions and the publishers submitted an early manuscript to friends and colleagues who they trusted for their opinion.
The biblical definitions of gossip are:
Slander~ spinning lies to cause damage. Or adding one's own 'spin' to a truth to alter its emphasis.
Rumour~ passing on information that is not confirmed as true.
Backbiting~ words that speak spitefully against a person who is not present to defend themselves.
Not~Really~Joking Jokes~ When joking is undermining and harmful to the character of another.
Planting seeds~ words spoken in such a way that provokes negative assumptions about a persons character.
Whispered Innuendo~ subtle insinuations that intend to mislead.
Got~All~This~Wrong Gossip~ admitting it's untrue but spread it anyway as some part of it may be true.
In my defence ~ None of the above can be found in Reverend Grey.
Should someone view Reverend Grey from the perspective of gossip, you will more than likely justify it in the ~
'Dishing The Dirt' definition. Though I have not detailed any dirt, I have for a specific purpose written clearly the areas and circumstances of where our difficulties where and where my husbands sins lay. All with my husbands complete consent following him reading the full unedited manuscript and the final proof as he also does not want another marriage to suffer from the same sins as ours have.
"What legacy will this leave for your future generations"
The legacy is assigned due to the exposure of my husbands lifestyle and my silence.
Families pass all the good and bad history from generation to generation. Some members of a family may choose to keep the bad stuff to themselves, while others will pass it on.
Questions will be asked due to sudden changes in the photograph album or someone disappears from history, why relationships changed on social media.
It would be impossible to protect our future Great and Great Great Grandchildren from the reasons of our demise.
We can all relate to a name that is mentioned from the past, and what nature of legacy they left behind.
It was of primary importance for me to turn my personal legacy around by writing Reverend Grey.
To speak out about what is a very difficult subject, that may have made me unpopular with some.
By tipping silence on its head and voicing the horrors of secret internet addictions ~
That are prolific in today's culture.
Silence does not make them disappear.
Silence feeds, stimulates and increases these addictions.
My husband has the choice to do the same in his own way, I believe he will one day.
My hope is that Reverend Grey penetrates the core of individuals sexual internet addictions, in so doing will save marriages and families, save careers,
callings and missions.
Save a father, a mother, a husband, a wife, daughter, brother or child.
Perhaps not in my lifetime... Even so...
This hope will be my legacy.
With love, your friend,
The un~common Sense
what? how can it be
that we see
with the sight
what's not in the light?
or a scent that does not smell
a photo not on show
words that cannot tell
a taste that we don't swallow
what cannot be touched we feel
yet this uncommon sense ~
make them real.
the company one keeps
a deposit they bestow
In the space around them speaks.
its influence to sow
like the sting of a nettle
that masquerade as a petal.
or weed on cue
to hijack the evening hue
The scent of a rose now lost
as offence becomes the host
and poised to post
It’s A Foggy Night
A dark and misty night
the road no lamp to light
i know where i should be
but the way i cannot see
I recall a foggy evening when I was a small child, I have a very distinctive memory of this particular night.
We were out as a family, my parents, my eldest sister and my grandparents. We couldn't get home because the fog was dense and it was impossible to see see the road in front of us.
My nan could drive (not many nan's drove in the 1960's) so my dad had an idea that would get his family safely home.
He would walk in front of the car, with the palms of his hands facing backwards. With the headlights on, my nan could clearly see my dads hands as he led us home. She drove behind him and followed him closely and slowly as he walked ahead.
There was no negotiation with my dad which way we went home. There were numerous routes, but the choice was his to take and our only hope of getting home was to follow his hands.
If we had not followed my fathers hands we would have got hopelessly lost, until the fog cleared.
All our eyes were fixed on my fathers hands.
We couldn't see the road ahead, though the route was a familiar one, we couldn't tell where we were. All the regular landmarks were invisible to our senses. We couldn't see any possible dangers or potential risks. Neither was there any conversation between my father and his mother. She simply had no choice ~
but to trust his hands to get us home.
There were others on the road, facing the same challenges and avoiding similar hazards, but we couldn't see them, we couldn't help them and they couldn't help us. we were alone in our bubble of temporary blindness, with only the palms of my fathers hands to lead us safely home.
I remember very well, we were not at all worried, or frightened.
We trusted our guide to take us home.
He loved us, we were his family, his wife, children and parents. He would do nothing to cause us harm or alarm, we were confident in his ability and assured by his knowledge.
Life is still misty ~ on the brink of dawn, and i don't know whats ahead.
One thing is certain...
Daylight always arrives ~ on time ~ the sun will rise again ~
the expectation is bright.
What is getting me through the fog?
The palms of my heavenly Fathers hands...
Even there Your hand will lead me and Your right hand will hold me ~ Psalm 139:10
Tick Tock Goes The Clock
for Big Ben you do not wait ~ early? no negotiate
you are never out of date ~ or ever even late
struck dumb is not your chime
you ~ 'TIME'
won't silence for a dime
~ it's only what's TRUE that you recall
it has to be admitted
you will not be outwitted
no-one gets a step ahead
many try to stand you still
and for a little while 'TIME'
~ they believed you paid their bill
we need you as you will
for all those things that only you ~
~ can tell...
for one of a number of questions i face
'TIME' is a friend I do not have to chase
you are my crust
as you replace my broken trust
for GOLD DUST
thank you ~ that you are mine ~
the gift of 'TIME'
Missing my Wingman!
We had a fabulous holiday, all together, our entire family, children and grandchildren. All except the one who was the Reverend. With him being completely lost in the Grey One's identity, he was missed, but he couldn't join us.
Easter is one of the main events in the Christian calendar. It was my husbands favourite celebration, remembering the finished work of Jesus. Again he is missed.
Too awkward... What could we have talked to him about...? Where would he have slept...? Were a few of the comments the children made when we talked about his absence. I wouldn't be alone anymore in wondering who he was texting, or what he was looking at on the Internet. Who he was thinking about in his silence or why he has taken a selfie with only himself in the frame. When the Grey One was a secret that only he and I knew of, I kept those fears and suspicions to myself to protect him. I protected him because I love him, I protected the children because they love him.
He would have loved being with us, playing with his grandchildren. Building castles and digging holes in the sand. Playing beach cricket and swimming in the sea. Many were the nooks and crannies for a game of hide and seek in the huge farm house he paid for, for us all to enjoy together. I could hear him in my head chuckling in his high pitched laugh that would bring tears to his eyes as he got one over on one of his little off spring, who would never give up in their search for Papa.
He was my trusted wingman when all the family were together, we were chief mama and papa. We led the convoy, organised the food and other arrangements. Our hands continually reaching for the purse to treat the little ones to ice cream and the bigger ones to bigger treats.
This time, I feel somewhat redundant of my long running role without my wingman. It's ok, I am adjusting to a different position in our family dynamic. I have very capable sons and daughters.
Though at the moment I feel like I am salt on the table without pepper and bread without butter, a knife without a fork. Trying to eat and drink with my right hand because the left hand is missing. Most times he was the right hand, I was the left, but where family was concerned, he was my left hand. He would not stop until all the tasks were completed. Much fun and laughter would be enjoyed as even the chores became an opportunity for fun and games with the children.
It was his choice to trade us in. Even though it wasn't what he intended. He took a big risk and he lost. He's not used to losing. He has always been the winner, always landed on his feet. He may not have landed yet, still hoping to land sure footed I am sure. All our affection and fondness is still here for him when he is ready. There is no more 'Cake and eat it' - he cannot have us and promiscuity, pornography etc any longer. He knows what he needs to do. Then our unconditional love and forgiveness is his.
I should be relieved and free of the Grey Ones betrayals but I miss the lovely one, the other one who is the love of my life.
Be thankful for those who love you!
Be thankful for their loyalty!
Be thankful for the joys!
Make the most of the moment it's our choice...
I miss when he holds me tight
hugs in the middle of the night
making up after a fight
when he says "It will be alright"
when he tells me i am beautiful
that my skin is so soft
the ping on my phone
A text to say "on my way home"
the sound of his key in the door
the love of my life walking mud on the floor
the leap inside at the sound of his voice
his company of familiar noise
the smile in his eyes as he sees my face
the silly big wave
that makes me giggle
as the man in the middle
feels out of place
he makes a good cup of tea
a unique brand
my right hand
Let praises rise from the inside of me
May You delight in the inside of me
Come fill my life from the inside of me
Set me on fire from the inside of me
Fill my life till all they see is You, Lord
Fill my heart till all they see is You, Lord
Glorify Your name
All I want Is for You to be glorified
For You to be lifted high
For most of the time we have a closed sign on the door to the inside of us. We may make the doorway available to our nearest and dearest, as those who live with us will have more access than most.
But there is always that back room ~ with the private sign ~ that no one else sees the inside of ~
Except God of course ~ nothing is hidden from Him.
This time last year I was angry on the inside. This year I am healing on the inside.
I was grieving on the inside, the swell of grief would rise like a wave and roll from deep inside as the reality of my brokenness crashed over my moments.
The words from our mouths can often contradict what is on the inside of us in an attempt to window dress our lives.
Emotional reactions and knee jerk responses or even our silence is the voice that reveals the inside of us.
Listen for the silence ~ They are a revelation from the inside of us.
The whisper of our soul ~ Listen ~ and you will hear your soul speak.
Its that room we call the spare room, where all the stuff goes ~ the buried and ignored stuff.
Every time the door opens to put more stuff in, from our consience we hear the siren in a noisy whisper ~ sound from the room ~
Sort me out ~ Clean me ~ Order my chaos ~ Throw me away …
How long will we ignore the inside of us?
Sadly many die with it all still on the inside ~ their life was robbed of a guilt and shame free soul.
Both my husband and I could have been that person. Had he never been exposed we could have died with all that stuff, toxic and decayed on the inside of us.
I cannot tell you how wonderfully healing and freeing it has been to open the door to everyone, to put right all the wrongs, to forgive and one day i won’t need to remind myself to choose to forget the pain and damage.
For my husband, he has his greatest opportunity to live the remainder of his life free from the lurking silent howl of Skeletor, the demon of his past.
In its place in that room i want to use the space to advise, help and serve others to listen to the voice on the inside of them...