“Remember He is the artist and you are only the picture. You can't see it. So quietly submit to be painted---i.e., keep fulfilling all the obvious duties of your station (you really know quite well enough what they are!), asking forgiveness for each failure and then leaving it alone.You are in the right way. Walk---don't keep on looking at it.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume lll: Narnia, Cambridge, and Joy 1950-1963
I really need for the Church to be different than the world, if I am ever going to learn to trust. It is so easy for me to see that the enemy is working against me. God has put me on a project - getting my story done. That's why I am writing here, because I can't write there. The enemy is beating me up for telling my story in the first place. I can't count how many times I wanted it back.
The attacks from telling my story didn't even come from the direction I expected. I was ducking behind a huge rock that stood between me and those who I assumed would attack, but no shots were fired... from that direction anyway. The most damaging shot hit me in the back, one right through the heart and then an other to the back of the head. There were other cuts and bruises, but nothing major.
My past was used against me when a woman in the church assumed I introduced her husband to a friend of mine. Apparently when I told my story, she left the building before I got to the part where I changed. I didn't fix them up and I didn't support their affair. My heart was for this woman's children. Who told me this? The pastor and he said I needed to fix it. ME? I don't even know this woman. How did this become my responsibility? So, my head is healed, but the scar is still there to remind me what can happen when you allow people into your business.
The wound to the heart is beyond explanation. I have never been so honest with anyone and yet this man chooses to believe I am a liar. Three years are totally erased. They meant nothing, because now I see he only wanted to conquer my obstacle course to be the hero, the number one, the pat myself on the back for a job well done guy. Though because I would not agree with him on every little thing, I am listening to the devil. Hmm. I find it humorous that the one person who stands behind me in exposing those who abused me, is the one who wants to approve of what I say about him in my story. I guess we both need to trust God.
Every time I try to work on it, all these memories come flooding back to me and I want to move away from here. As I argue with God, I bring up my kids. What will they go through, because really, they are all that matters. My kids and grandkids are really the only ones I can't live without. Then God said, "What if I ask you to give them up for me?" Really? Well, of course, because out of your will is not where I ever want to be. The Lord told me my kids salvation should come second to Him. WHAT?
I know God has my kids, but when you have treated them badly for their whole lives and you finally start building a healthy and meaningful relationship and then God says, "Take 'em to the hill and sacrifice" it's a little unsettling to say the least. Some days I come to God like a small child... pitching a huge fit. Why do I have to obey, sacrifice, walk away, forgive, etc. etc. and others get to lie, steal and hurt people? Especially those who claim to be Christians, pastors, friends of Christ. My dad always made us pick up the toys at our friends house even if none of the other kids were made to help. AND do it without grumbling. Argh!
I can see the positive in finishing my story and sharing it, but I know there will be some haters. I now realize those haters might be people I call friend at this time in my life. Nothing matters but Jesus. Nothing matters, but Jesus. Absolutely nothing matters to me, but being in His will and obeying Him... even if it hurts like hell.
“But God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn't come through.”
― Francis Chan, Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God
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