Bipsy: Battlecry

$13.10 $15.98
Product Type: CD
Artist: Bipsy

Artist: Bipsy
Title: Battlecry

Introduction by Teresa Taylor, Bipsy's producer and friend: In March of 2009, Bipsy was brutally murdered by her fiancée. We all mourn the loss of this amazing gift from God. Thankfully, we had just finished mastering her CD and she was very happy with the result. Her family and I decided to go ahead and release this CD. Her music will live on forever. Thank you for taking a listen and supporting her memory. Here is our BattleCry: O Death, Where Is Thy Sting? "Prophesy over these bones: 'Dry bones, listen to the Message of God!'" So I prophesied, just as he commanded me. The breath entered them and they came alive! They stood up on their feet, a huge army. The following is Bipsy's testimony: My father was an Armenian from Iran and I am the youngest of four children. We lived in North Carolina and had a very strict upbringing--we weren't allowed to associate with other children or do anything outside of home and basic school. My mother was also never allowed to leave the house or even get her drivers license. My father was very abusive mentally and physically, and boasted to my mother that he cheated on her and there was nothing she could do about it. He threatened her with death if she were to ever try to leave. He claimed to be a Christian and made us read the Bible and pray. So naturally, I grew up with a very twisted perception of God. Since we couldn't do other things or have friends, we all read a lot of books and lacked social skills. I was beat up and teased mercilessly in school by children who went to church and claimed to be Christians. So at the age of nine, I started reading books on anything spiritual aside from Christianity to find another way. I was seeing 'ghosts' so I thought I had ESP and read many books about that. I became fascinated with the hippie era--the music, the rebellion, the feminist movement and started wearing my moms old hippie clothes. This got me teased and beat up even more. At the age of 11, I hated waking up in the morning to go to school. I was depressed and i constantly fantasized about running away.  I begged my father for piano lessons, but he wouldn't budge. I begged him to let me join the youth community theater, but he would again hear nothing of it. I loved art and wanted so badly to travel and live life. My sister wanted to join the school choir and my father said no and could give her no good reason why. He said the uniform cost too much but she said shed make her own. He still said no, so our mom spent the 4 dollars on the fabric behind his back. When my sister came home from school, our dad had spread the fabric out on her floor. He had cut the word 'NO' into it in huge letters. As she broke down crying, he laughed and smiled. I began to fear that we would never be free from our father. I'd cry myself to sleep at night if I even slept at all.  I read a book about how you could use more than 10 percent of your brain to levitate objects, so I tried that. I read a lot of Freud and Mesmer. Then I started reading books about self-hypnosis and palm reading. I found that self-hypnosis was an escape from a hated reality for me and I felt it brought me into some sort of spiritual realm. The more I got into these things, the more the children (and even the teachers) teased and humiliated me. I remember waking up laughing, having had dreams of taking a gun and murdering all the children and teachers who tormented me.  At the age of 12, we escaped my father by a miracle. It took my mother 2 nightmarish years to gain full custody of us. Once they separated, I pretty much went wild. I could suddenly go out and do whatever i wanted. I began experimenting with drugs and drinking heavily and smoking. It wasn't long before I was coerced into losing my virginity. I felt so empty and hurt and worthless and I didn't know why. What I had learned from my father pretty much was that a woman's entire purpose in life was to be a sex object to please men. And all the nasty guys I hung around seemed to feel the same way. I guess, when I look back, I always wanted power. Being pushed down and trodden over my whole life made me want to have some kind of control. I wanted revenge.  I got into witchcraft--it began with spell-books. I would try to do the spells and then be disappointed that they didn't work. I became frustrated, and as a 12-year-old little girl, I prayed to Satan for demons to fill me so that I could have power. After this time, I became very tormented, more so than before. I thought I was going insane. When I would get drunk or take drugs, it would only be worse. My 'friends' had to restrain me a couple times because I would become so uncontrollable and violent. They said I would scream things like, 'God hates me!' and 'I'm going to hell!!' Yet when I was sober, I was a self-supposed intellectual who didn't believe in foolish things like hell and the devil. Interesting that the devil, whom I had prayed to, now caused me to think that I didn't believe in his existence. One time when I was freaking out, they shut me into a room and I saw flames leaping everywhere and heard a voice telling me to 'kill the Christians, kill all the Christians!' I attempted suicide for the first time after my first boyfriend dumped me. I drank a whole fifth of vodka and took an entire bottle of Tylenol. I didn't even get sick. I laid there all night waiting to die and then cursing God for not letting me die!  My brother and sister became friends with a Christian girl from their school named Nikki, and she invited us to her church. We went and I met Nikki. She was the epitome of the kind of girl that usually teased me--pretty, popular, good grades, nice family. Instead of being repulsed by my appearance like other 'church people' had always been, she was very kind and said she liked how I dressed so uniquely. I'll never forget this: she told me once, 'i like how you're bold about your opinions, God's really going to use that one day for Him.' I laughed at the time, but what a concept! Instead of condemning me for the obvious, she gave me hope for my future. Needless to say, I started watching her like a hawk to see if she was a fake, but she seemed to be equally loving to everyone, and her devotion to God seemed sincere. One time I was taken advantage of by an older guy and was crying the next day about it at her church. I didn't know of anyone I could tell, so I told her. She grabbed my hands and prayed for me and tears came to her eyes and I was completely shocked that she really cared about me so much. It was moving, but I felt that her prayers would do no good since I was an enemy of her God. (I believe it is because of Nikki that my family is saved today. Wherever you are, thank you!) Isaac started to change. He had been downcast and very quiet for the past few years. He never looked people in the eye, hardly ever looked up and he mumbled so much when he talked, no one could understand him. He hated when people were loud and never did anything to draw attention to himself. In church one day, he came up to the alter and started praying with a group in the front. Suddenly, he started shaking ever so slightly; I could tell he was trying to fight it since he was not a showy person, but he finally gave in. He raised up his hands to heaven and seemed to be so filled with joy!! If my brother could respond this way, I knew he wasn't faking. The next day, he was coming downstairs with a crate of CDs. We were both music freaks and liked a lot of the same stuff. I said, 'Where are you going with those?' 'I'm going to go throw them away!' 'WHAT?! Are you crazy? Why?' 'It's not pleasing to God that I listen to this music so I'm getting rid of it.' Wow, I thought. I hated fake people and I honestly appreciated when people stood up for what they believed. I may have acted like he was nuts at the time, but deep inside, I admired this. I admired Nikki too. Even though I teased her, it was half-hearted--I wanted what she had, a purpose for living.  I

1.1 Hatikvah
1.2 Restoration
1.3 Feast of Tabernacles
1.4 The High Priest and His Bride
1.5 Battlecry
1.6 Beautiful
1.7 The March of the Angry Dishes
1.8 Washerwoman
1.9 River of Blood
1.10 Ancient Dance
1.11 One Hundred Nineteen
1.12 Whirlwind

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