The space of pain, trauma, torture, and living death was my daily meal. No one to see me. No one to rescue me. No one to hear my screams or my cries.
Death was all around me — seeded in me by thousands, seeping sepsis from rituals that tried to unmake me.
Gashes. Blood. Fluids. Then silence.
You were chosen, they said. But I heard Jesus whisper, I chose you before the foundation of the world.
I watched sacrifice after sacrifice, even as a child myself — babies ripped from my womb, blood drank, bodies consumed. They thought they could take power. They did not know that Greater is He in me than he that is in the world.
My babies' deaths were not in vain.
Tied. Raped. Locked in a cage — I asked my Heavenly Father for an exit strategy. My hope was in Him. My mind reached toward freedom.
No chains could hold me. Death could not own what God had already saved.
If you ever tell, they said, your body will never be found.
But I told. And my God came through — just as He always does.
Dozens of surgeries behind me now. I am free.
I died daily — except I didn't die. Now I die to self and let Jesus live fully in me.
Washed by the blood of Jesus. Made new.
He is the best.
Lynz Piper-Loomis
February 26, 2026
