A Façade Becomes a Symphony

Copyright © 2014 by DeAnn Torregano.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Scriptures included were taken from the King James Version of the Holy Bible.

Definitions used were taken from the Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary 10th Edition.

The poem included in chapter 4 titled Dream Deferred was written by novelist and playwright James Mercer Langston Hughes.

The song included in chapter 8 titled Trust in Jesus was written by author DeAnn Torregano.

The poem included in the final chapter titled Our Deepest Fear was written by author and lecturer Marianne Williamson.

**Some names have been changed to protect identity **

Rev. date: 03/13/2014

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CONTENTS

About The Author

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Foreword

Introduction

Chapter One A Point of Beginning

Chapter Two Life in the Warden’s House

Chapter Three Baby Boy (Like Father, Like Son)

Chapter Four Scramble, Ramble, and Gamble

Chapter Five Box it up, but can you forget it?

Chapter Six Transformation in the One-Horse Town

Chapter Seven God’s Next Move

Chapter Eight Mama, I Hear the Sound of the Symphony

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DeAnn Torregano was born in San Francisco, California, and grew up on the Silicon Valley peninsula in the city of East Palo Alto. She was employed by Stanford University Hospital in the Department of Human Resources Management until an unfortunate car accident ended her lengthy years of employment. She relocated to Jacksonville, Texas, in 1993 to start a new life which also yielded a totally new and unexpected vocational experience. She earned her bachelor of arts in divinity with honors in information technology and business administration in 1995 and was also conferred with a certificate of ordination as an independent minister from the International Theological University in Pasadena, California. She willingly accepted her call as an associate minister in 1997 with the New Birth Church of the Living God PGT in Jacksonville, Texas, and was licensed and ordained within that denomination in 1999 by the presiding bishop and the council of elders where she remained in faithful service for approximately fifteen years. In 2005, she then completed the required studies and examinations to earn a certification in pastoral counseling from the Crossroads Theological Seminary in Tupelo, Mississippi, and in that same year, earned a master of arts in divinity with honors in spiritual support counseling and church administration from ITU. After graduation, she was selected to enter into the Professional Path Doctoral Program to begin work on her doctor of divinity degree. Her well-rounded educational base in divinity, her anointing from God, and a quest for further knowledge in the field of full gospel ministry led her to be inducted into the Prophetic Order of Mar Elijah (POME) in East Elmhurst, New York, as a Prophetess in February of 2007. As a student in the School of the Prophets in her new level of Neophyte in the Elite 300 Company of Prophets, she was presented with a lifetime of continued education in the study of the prophetic spiritual realm. After her return from New York, in June of this same year she received a vision which would permit her to be released from the comfort zone of the church pulpit as she had come to know it. Favor was granted to her in the form of a three-year sabbatical which would permit her the time to complete her educational pursuits, relocate to a new state where she could cultivate the mandate of her own personal ministry venture the D.A.T. Angel of Light Ministries, whose acronym stands for Dedicated, Anointed, Truth which she received a vision for in 2003. After completing the required two years as a neophyte in the Prophetic Order of Mar Elijah (POME) in 2009, she was elevated to the next level as an Initiate receiving her prophet’s robe with a red rope belt which identifies the honor designation of a Temple Guard. She has now completed her first published book A Façade Becomes a Symphony which will serve as her approved dissertation for her doctor of divinity degree from the International Theological University. DeAnn now resides in Atlanta, Georgia, and continues to write in preparation for her next book, as well as exploring unity and community building in the field of ministry.

DEDICATION

In loving memory of my mother Ella Mae Burse, a woman of godly wisdom who was always in view of the big picture. She lived her life before me as an example of true sacrifice, continually displaying that one could move forward regardless of the opposition. Her firm belief was,

An obstacle is nothing more than an opportunity waiting to happen.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you to God for granting me the courage to revisit the painful halls of the past as he continued to lead me to the healing balm of Gilead with every turn of my pen.

Thank you to Bishop Dr. James Leonard Berry who gave me a hand in discovering that children of the King will rise and soar with the spirit of excellence in due season.

Thank you to Glyn Michael Gant for providing the introduction on how to ignite words with a color splash of variety.

Thank you to a very special group of people who truly demonstrated their belief in this project by their continuous prayers, words of encouragement, and monetary donations. For without you, this book would not have been a manifested reality.

FOREWORD

DeAnn has taken the very painful, torturous, and imprisoning events of her life and blended them with what she has experienced through her diligence in reading and understanding God’s word and its clear teachings. She has created a beautiful symphony of high notes which can be reached when you turn your life over to God’s plan… and not your own.

She has embodied the vast array of total life experience from the biblical book of Ecclesiastes, chapter 3. She has personally illustrated how all of those moments in time were a part of her very difficult and challenging childhood, her painful teenage years, and then on into the early stages of her brutal adult life. She has also clearly displayed how these experiences have been a form of strength building and continue to now be a joyous part of her new life in Christ… as she continues to plant, to heal, to build up, to dance, to embrace, to sow, to speak, to love.

DeAnn is a walking, talking miracle of God’s love and caring. There is no other explanation for how God is now using her challenging experiences through this book to share that miracle of a new life healing and transformation with others. No matter where you have been or where you are, this book will lift you up to where God wants you to be. It is that powerful!

Donald Ray Thomas

Friend, Former Supervisor, and Prayer Warrior

INTRODUCTION

First and foremost I give all credence to God who truly deserves the glory for this miraculous work. For I realize that I could not have written any of these words with a good pencil on any given day without him.

Many times in life, we suppress our thoughts so deeply within the recesses of our minds in our feeble attempt to forget that they were ever present. Until such a time as the pain and agony of remembrance rears its ugly head. Pain hurts all of us, whether it is physical or emotional. Yet, pain can lead one to the bridge of healing for those who really desire to be released from its grasp, much like that of a sour note on a piano in need of tuning.

We all know that when a symphony orchestra is in proper pitch, it will grant a melodious sound. The conductor taps his baton giving the lead, and the musicians lift their instruments and come alive with perfect harmony. Much like an orchestra, we as God’s creations being governed by his perfect will can live an abundant and harmonious life upon the earth.

As I thought about this unique and very creative example, a high level of excitement leaped within me. Though it had crossed my mind on a couple of occasions in my youth, I had never seriously envisioned myself as a writer of any sort, at least not for anyone else of importance to read. I began keeping a journal since the beginning of 1997 and enjoy writing my childlike letters to God each day as if he wasn’t there. It has since become a very positive and creatively common practice in my life.

On the morning of March 8, 2003, as I was writing in my journal, I heard the Holy Spirit speak to me saying, You have often encouraged others as they started out on their great quest to write a book. You have typed and edited many of their scrambled notes and partial manuscripts. But once they began to realize the discipline required to bring a manuscript into final book form, they soon gave up their endeavor. Now, why not use this gift to help a world of hurting people? You do have a victorious story to tell.

As I began to think of the possibility, it was strange, yet exciting. I am blessed to now share these words with you, in addition to finding a new freedom of expression through the channel of writing. My desire is that someone will know that through God’s grace and mercy, you too can totally recover from the pain, agony, and deep guilt of a gloomy past.

Yet, how does one begin to tell others about secrets that have been so well hidden? Being held together tightly for so long that the adhesive agent in super glue would have dried out by now. The happy window dressings of smiles and laughter that I hid behind in the public’s view which were disguised as originals while the real truth went undetected for many years. The elements about my life that many could never have imagined though they had been around me all the time. A close-knit barrage of neighbors, relatives, and friends, yet they were none the wiser for missing it all.

That is how a facade is born. That is how it lasts for so long. The right mixture of pretense, protocol, and time—these are the major ingredients needed to keep it alive. Alive, that is, until you encounter a force greater than yourself who shows you differently. Then it finally dawns on you that there is another person in this universe who has the recorded master key to your true identity, dreams, goals, and aspirations, as well as your many faults and frivolous failures.

This is the one person who has led you to safety during all the trying times in your life when you were steadfast on doing things your own way. And even while you continued to try and remain totally oblivious to his presence or really not desiring to know him, he was there. His presence is what it takes to expose you to your real self, while healing and delivering you all at the same time. This person is GOD!

The wonderful thing about God is that unlike common man, he will always forgive and forget. He will cast your sins, iniquities, and transgressions into the sea of forgetfulness, never to remember them again. I have since learned that man only loves because of, but God loves in spite of. He is the true repairer of the breach of life while further broadening your horizon to understanding how A Facade Becomes A Symphony.

Let us now begin the journey…

CHAPTER ONE

A Point of Beginning

Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow.

For what is your life? It is even a vapor,

that appeareth for a little time, then vanisheth away.

—James 4:14

To begin this chapter and to continue forward with the construction of this story, it was necessary for me to first pray for divine guidance, and next to consult periodically with two of my favorite friends: the King James Version of the Holy Bible and the Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary. This was done to satisfy my need for acquiring a clear and concise understanding of the scriptures that I would use throughout the entire book and the definition of certain words which would make it a bit easier to explain various aspects of each chapter. This is what I discovered. So much happens to a person in this short span of time, the gift presented to us that we call life. LIFE: The quality that distinguishes a vital and functional being from a dead body. The period or span of time from birth to death.

It is difficult to explain one’s life to others in one paragraph, one chapter, or even in one completed book. We go through volumes of transitions in this lifetime; and each second, minute, hour, day, week, month, and year are precious to these various volumes that we create. We should be careful not to waste any of our allotted time, for once it is used up whether appropriately or inappropriately, it cannot be replaced. Our time spent here upon this earth and what we do with it is the legacy that we leave behind that keeps the memory of our existence alive and well with those that remain long after we have departed from this physical earthly plain. We each have a grave responsibility to do our level best to leave such a legacy that bears honor to our creator.

TRUST: Assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something. One in which confidence is placed.

Realizing at this point that if you are ever going to live, move, and have your being in this life, you must be able to trust someone implicitly. We all need someone to believe in, rely on, and confide in. Yet, who is truly worthy of that much confidence? Though human beings are often well-meaning creatures with good intentions, they have many limitations in this physical realm when they are attempting to assist others in their own strength. They have a tendency to fall short at various times and on many occasions. They can also be found to be a tad bit unreliable when you really need them in an urgent crisis situation. Likewise, many times your own rambling thoughts and directives could possibly lead you on a serious path of distraction or even destruction, which is not a correct path for you to be on. So who else is there to trust in?

Though scientists, atheists, agnostics, and the like have argued this point for many centuries, it is evident that the best alternative that one could incur would then be to come face-to-face with the decision to believe in God as the chief architect of all life. Believing with all certainty that he only designs good and perfect plans, as well as lavishing on us creative gifts for our use if we will just receive, apply, and care for them properly as we stay on his perfect life path.

But in order to receive these gifts, one must rid themselves of any and all negative thoughts of not being worthy of good things in this life or the one to come. One must be able to accept this thought while coming into the realization that you are not your mistakes. Nor can you pretend to do this alone. The illusion that many of us may be faced with are sacrificial lies that we have formulated in the comfort of denial that will no longer serve us well. One must understand equally as well that there is no shame in suffering, but there is also no healing in the silence of self-torment either. It is here at the surreal crossroads of the soul-search where dawning truth meets the anguish of overwhelming resistance. Yet, you can choose to finally wake up, change your mind, and let go of what no longer works for you at any given time. Or you can choose to continue traveling on the familiar path of comfort and in ownership of your losses and your poor choices. Or you could choose to become empowered by intense knowledge through virtue of gratitude.

If you dare to search for the truth, you will find it in the Holy Bible within its first chapter, which is the book of beginnings. You will see in Genesis 1:26 that we were all created in his image and likeness, which entitles us to everything that he promised, not to mention in a great avalanche of abundance if we will just walk in the light of obedience, faith, and love.

I would soon learn that releasing the past can bring healing when you least expect it, and with the passing of time, you will be able to safely revisit your past, stand firm in the present, while waiting to take your next quantum leap into your glorious future.

As I sat by my bedroom window daydreaming, my childhood address of 78 Navy Road, Apartment 38, Section C in the Hunters Point Projects came to mind. Our old telephone number of VA-66247 rang a bell of familiarity. The prefix VA was short for Valencia. During this era, word prefixes were attached to the later five digits of a telephone number identifying a particular section or district of the city in which you lived.

Whether your prefix was Valencia or Atwater, San Francisco always appeared to be a very magical place to me. Whether you lived in the neighboring districts of the Bay View, Hunters Point, Burma Heights, Lake View, Geneva and Mission or the even in the upper crust districts of the luxurious Avenues or Knob Hill, they were all clearly and distinctively different for the people who lived within their boundaries.

Do you not find it strange that we have not utilized word prefixes for a telephone number in years? And when did this transition take place? We have instead been transformed to the use of numerical digits which appear to be expressionless and void of any meaning as in times past. Today, almost everything is in numerical sequence with very little significance, or is there? Doesn’t it now make you wonder if there is any validity to the study of numerology? We now live in the twenty-first century which many would classify as the age of advanced knowledge and technology. As many of us who are computer literate become more informed each day by continuing to speed along on the super information highway of the World Wide Web, we are progressing forward into a sphere of influence in revelation and recommendation. Yet, certain portions of our past will always be stored somewhere in the foreground segment of our mind for instant recall if ever required.

As I drifted in thought of my younger childhood days, I caught a glance in my mind’s eye of the Hunters Point II School that I once attended. It was an enormous single-story building structured to accommodate grades one through twelve. My best description of its architectural design would be that of a large circular green-and-beige building sitting on a hilltop, shaped much like three quarters of an apple pie with many windows and doors.

Undoubtedly, this definitely was a military design style and it could have been said that it easily resembled a junior pentagon of sorts. The Hunters Point Projects were initially built for military personnel and selected civilians who were employed by the San Francisco Naval Shipyard. Many of the children that I attended school with had parents and grandparents who were employed by and eventually did retire from the naval shipyard with a great benefits package after their many years of service.

The name of Mrs. Alice Ballard, our school principal at Hunters Point II, came to mind. She was a stern-faced, platinum-haired Caucasian woman who did not mind calling you into the office to put the tush paddle to your backside if ever the need did arise. This type of disciplinary action was administered during the late fifties and early sixties and was not only encouraged but permitted by parents with the attitude of gratefulness to school officials during a more morally conscious era which kept children totally in proper step.

School officials in those days were definitely in the business of teaching their students academics but also respect for their elders as well as their authority. This was a better place in time when children displayed gracious manners which were taught at home by their parents along with the proper use of the English language. And your best behavior was always mandatory when you were away from home. During this day in time, a child was known by his good family values and upbringing which brought his or her family name under the spyglass of review at all times. This was also during the era when your neighbors kept a watchful eye on you, spanking you on the spot for bad behavior, and told your parents about your infraction later, which usually meant that you would definitely receive another spanking when you arrived home. Parents believed that adults would not or did not lie on their children back then and accepted the corrections administered by a neighbor to their children at face value. Where did the family morals, principles, and standards go? The more things change, the worst the moral value system becomes as many people of today can witness and could truthfully declare. The description of the principal’s tush paddle was enough to make you not want to see it, much less have it administered to your backside. It was made from a piece of heavy oak wood with a curved shape about twelve inches in length and a black-ribbed rubber handle for the benefit of its user, which ensured a firm and nonslip grip.

Numerous holes were drilled into the wood, so when it came off of your rear end, it would sting from the suction created upon impact, or so I was told by those individuals who were consistently acquainted with it. Mrs. Ballard certainly believed in discipline and had more than enough energy for an elderly woman of her age to dish it out in good measure to naughty boys or girls sent to her office for corrective action.

I was never paddled during my years there, thank God! A detailed note to your parents would always accompany anyone who received corrective discipline followed up by an evening telephone call just in case the note lost its way home with you. The following morning, an appearance by one of your parents meeting with Mrs. Ballard was mandatory before you were permitted back into the classroom environment. If your parents did not show up or telephone her the next morning and you showed up to school alone, you spent your entire day in the detention corner of Mrs. Ballard’s office. At the close of the day, she would personally drive you home and meet with your parents face-to-face. This most certainly kept the number of corrective actions that had to be administered down to a very minimum level.

Totally afraid of receiving a more severe beating at home, I never misbehaved in school or anywhere else for that matter. It was easy to be good in school because I enjoyed school and strived to always be a model student. My good behavior was always verbally noted by several of my teachers and penned in the comments section of my report card during those years, which in turn seemed to create real problems for me with a few of my irritated classmates who seemed to have an obvious spirit of hate going on where I was concerned. They would always tease me during recess by calling me the teacher’s pet in addition to other select names such as whitey, piss colored, and half-breed. During my elementary school days, I was several shades too light in complexion to be thought of by many of my classmates as African American and a shade too dark to be considered Caucasian by the old southern bloodline chart that many used in former times. This always left me with a feeling of not fitting into any racial classification in the late fifties and sixties. My teachers were always extremely kind to me, and I knew that it was only due to the fact that I showed them the respect that they deserved, when some of the other students did not. Yet, I believe that their praise and concern for me may have gone a bit farther than what the natural eye could see. It was almost as if they could really sense my daily fear, anxiety, and pain.

Life at home with my mother was a joy. She was always pleasant, understanding, and full of love, though my father was totally a different scenario. I lived in fear most of my life of Mr. Willie Burse Jr. My fear of him could almost be compared to how Celie must have felt in the movie The Color Purple each time she saw M-i-s-t-e-r coming within close range of her. Any glimmer of confidence or