“SHOCK ABSORBERS
Veterans scream in their dreams, reliving nightmares so that we can sleep peacefully”
― Kamil Ali, Profound Vers-A-Tales
Hollywood uses the "shock" treatment in movies to sell them. Preacher's use it to sell their message. We like to shock our friends with good news. I use this method on others sometimes, but I don't like it when it is used on me. I hate surprises. Too many ugly shocks can do that to you. Happy shocks are okay, but ugly shocks can even ruin happy shocks.
I went to a Good Friday church service last night at the church I went to in the beginning of this whole "Okay Jesus, get my attention or I quit" movement I started 5 years ago. In fact it was the Good Friday service at this church 5 years ago that I was first shook up by Jesus and our relationship finally started. Now I was there again with my daughter at her first Good Friday service. It was a normal service. They gave each of the pastors a few verses of those moments on the cross. I guess if you only have a verse or two you can shock the congregation with your little part and the whole thing can be a shock after shock of what really happened to Jesus on that cross. Shocks wear off. It was good, but not shockingly good until the end. They brought us to that moment, that final moment when Jesus says Father, I give up my spirit to You and the lights went out. There was a drum roll on the kettle drums. The sound of thunder in the back of the auditorium. The drumming got louder. The Holy Spirit was there. I pray He did to everyone there whatever He was doing in me. I was there. I was at the cross when the earth trembled. I could feel it. The shock treatment worked.
If you look back over your life there are shock moments. Often they begin with words, words like, I am leaving, grandma is dead, your best friend has been in a bad car accident or you are pregnant. They can be something seen with the eyes like an accident, violence, or death. It can happen to you. You could be in an accident, a fist belonging to someone you trust could land on your face, you open your back door to see a stranger standing there, or your spouse kissing a stranger. The thing these all have in common is that they are life changing. Even if it's observed and not about you the shock can haunt your dreams and affect the way you live.
My best friend was in a car accident when I was around 20 years old. She was on life support for 3 days before they unplugged her and she died, but I will never forget those days, that moment when I heard. I can somewhat imagine what the disciples went through. Not John, because I didn't go to be by her side. I was more like Peter, I stayed away. It's kind of funny to think about that because the Lord told me once, that I was like Peter. The shock of what Jesus went through and now the shock of His death. I remember my friends family telling me it was probably better that I did not see her, because she did not look like herself. She was unrecognizable. It was better I remember her as she was when she was alive, walking around and being herself.
Peter, John and the others did not know what would happen in three days. I knew they were going to unplug my friend, but would she live or die? As the devil dulls our senses, we wait ...
“There are persons who, when they cease to shock us, cease to interest us.”
― F.H. Bradley
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Nunya!! Business
“We received it by asking. This means that even very gifted people are not necessarily mature Christians. They may not even have good character. Therefore, the gifts of the Spirit do not validate our walk with God.”
― Kris Vallotton, Basic Training for the Prophetic Ministry
About five years ago I went through an intense time of learning. I was learning to hear the Lord and learning about my whole life, the why's, the how's and the where was Jesus answers. The Lord used the pastor in my life to teach me to hear Him. He would speak to me and the pastor would confirm with scripture or facts about him or sometimes say, "That doesn't sound like Jesus." I learned to hear His voice, what to share, what not to share, when to speak about it and when to pray about it.
I will never forget one lesson that took me by surprise. I asked a question, nothing too personal, just a question about the pastor. After all the Lord had used him many times to teach me, but this time He said "No". In fact I asked the question and His answer was quite clear, "That is none of your business." Instantly I knew it was true, it was none of my business. This was more learning. Many times since then, I have been in conversation with the Lord and had Him say, it's not your business. In fact, there have been times He has told me to pray for someone, but gives me no info on how to pray. Thank Him for tongues!!
I have gotten some words lately from people and they have been wrong. I have asked the Lord repeatedly, "Am I just not looking at myself or my situation clearly?" Finally, I asked, "What am I missing here?" One of these people is usually right on and not quick to speak, yet this time I felt she was wrong. I have asked several times for Him to show me truth. Well it came in one sentence. People who ask God about others private information are usually gossips. I started looking at the people around me. The Lord showed me one HUGE clue. When you are going through something, there will be people who ask, "How can I pray for you?" This comes from a place of love. This gives me a chance to request specific prayer, without sharing more than I want to share. Please pray I hear confirmation, I wait on the Lord, I have courage to do as He asks, etc. without details.
Then there are those who tell you about their conversation with God about you and what He is doing in your life. Really? You're wrong. That is not at all what He is showing me or the two people I have asked to pray through this with me. I learned a while back, that many things are not my business and that's okay. The deeper I go with Him the more I pray in tongues for people and keep my own dysfunctional words out of it.
There is the person who runs with what they think God told them and turn everything to align with that lie, but my question is: If God is against gossip and we repeatedly ask Him about other people's business and His response is not what we want to hear, Nunya business, then who are we hearing? If we are not open to hear the Lord say "No" then all we will hear is "Yes" and if the Lord isn't saying "Yes" who is? Many times in my life, I have asked the Lord what I thought was a yes or no question and He answers with something totally different and even sometimes a question of His own. If I am not open to whatever He wants to say, then I am only open to what I want to hear.
Since the stroke, 4 1/2 months ago, I have dealt with a lot of this kind of communication. I think it's called going off half cocked. It makes me angry, it hurts my feelings and it isolates me. The issues of the stroke I deal with the most are fatigue, my stomach does not tell me when I am hungry, my bladder does not tell me when it is full, my right arm feels like it is in a bucket of ice at all times, muscle aches, my night vision is much worse, my hearing has changed as sometimes everything blends together and equally frustrating as the fatigue is my inability to retain information I read. If you tell me I will remember but if I read it, it goes into a black hole somewhere. I used to read a lot and I started a book the beginning of the year that should have taken me two days, but all this time later, I am half way and can't tell you what the story is about. So with all these lovely changes to my life, the more tired I am, the worse these things are. I choke on my own spit, the right side of my face goes numb, I can't speak well, my muscles ache constantly and I am trying desperately to build up my stamina. I have had two people, say things to me lately about not getting enough physical activity. Really? One was a doctor who was focused on one particular issue, unaware of the stroke. The other was a friend who I haven't really spent much time with at all. Unaware of what I do daily, yet speaking about what I should do is just like getting a word from the enemy about what God is doing in my life.
Ann Lamott says “You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” When God agrees with us on what somebody needs to do, there is a good chance it is not God at all. We build formulas for healing, for ministering, for teaching, but with formulas, there is no need for Jesus. We get these ideas in our heads that we know what somebody needs, but how can we? We don't know it all. We have to be listening to Jesus at all times and be willing to hear what He wants to say, not what we want to hear.
The other morning, after talking about this for a few days with the Lord, I woke up grabbed a pen and started writing the words He was giving me to speak to others:
I could tell you the whole story, every little detail, but you can't possibly know the whole story. Why? Because there are actually times in history that affect the story, affect who the characters are, but if I don't realize those times are part of the story, then I won't tell them as part of the story and you can't possibly know the whole story. This applies to every story, no matter who owns the story. The only one who knows the whole entire story is Jesus and He holds on to moments that affect the story and keeps them close to Him. Mysteries? To know those moments may be to know Him, because there is really only one story... His story and we may only have a paragraph in a very big story. Maybe only a verse? Some may only be a word in His story. Is this why it is so difficult to believe that we are important and loved by Him, because in His huge story, we are but a word.
Scripture clearly says not to claim your words are His words. Only His words, should be called His words. With all the people who speak without first hearing, the people who finish sentences incorrectly, the people who hear others words, but then say "That's not what they really meant", it's hard to say who is truly listening to the Lord and only repeating, saying what he wants said. Yes, we all get it wrong at times, but we must spend twice as much time listening than we do talking. Would you want to be misquoted??
“Pastors and leaders must recognize, and then relinquish, any methods of control and manipulation they exercise. They must cease to gossip against fellow pastors and other believers, to talk disrespectfully about other ministries, or to reveal personal tidbits shared in confidence with them. Pastors who have privileged information, are sometimes the worst offenders of gossip. They must refrain from talebearing, before the wineskin tears.”
― John Paul Jackson, Unmasking the Jezebel Spirit
― Kris Vallotton, Basic Training for the Prophetic Ministry
About five years ago I went through an intense time of learning. I was learning to hear the Lord and learning about my whole life, the why's, the how's and the where was Jesus answers. The Lord used the pastor in my life to teach me to hear Him. He would speak to me and the pastor would confirm with scripture or facts about him or sometimes say, "That doesn't sound like Jesus." I learned to hear His voice, what to share, what not to share, when to speak about it and when to pray about it.
I will never forget one lesson that took me by surprise. I asked a question, nothing too personal, just a question about the pastor. After all the Lord had used him many times to teach me, but this time He said "No". In fact I asked the question and His answer was quite clear, "That is none of your business." Instantly I knew it was true, it was none of my business. This was more learning. Many times since then, I have been in conversation with the Lord and had Him say, it's not your business. In fact, there have been times He has told me to pray for someone, but gives me no info on how to pray. Thank Him for tongues!!
I have gotten some words lately from people and they have been wrong. I have asked the Lord repeatedly, "Am I just not looking at myself or my situation clearly?" Finally, I asked, "What am I missing here?" One of these people is usually right on and not quick to speak, yet this time I felt she was wrong. I have asked several times for Him to show me truth. Well it came in one sentence. People who ask God about others private information are usually gossips. I started looking at the people around me. The Lord showed me one HUGE clue. When you are going through something, there will be people who ask, "How can I pray for you?" This comes from a place of love. This gives me a chance to request specific prayer, without sharing more than I want to share. Please pray I hear confirmation, I wait on the Lord, I have courage to do as He asks, etc. without details.
Then there are those who tell you about their conversation with God about you and what He is doing in your life. Really? You're wrong. That is not at all what He is showing me or the two people I have asked to pray through this with me. I learned a while back, that many things are not my business and that's okay. The deeper I go with Him the more I pray in tongues for people and keep my own dysfunctional words out of it.
There is the person who runs with what they think God told them and turn everything to align with that lie, but my question is: If God is against gossip and we repeatedly ask Him about other people's business and His response is not what we want to hear, Nunya business, then who are we hearing? If we are not open to hear the Lord say "No" then all we will hear is "Yes" and if the Lord isn't saying "Yes" who is? Many times in my life, I have asked the Lord what I thought was a yes or no question and He answers with something totally different and even sometimes a question of His own. If I am not open to whatever He wants to say, then I am only open to what I want to hear.
Since the stroke, 4 1/2 months ago, I have dealt with a lot of this kind of communication. I think it's called going off half cocked. It makes me angry, it hurts my feelings and it isolates me. The issues of the stroke I deal with the most are fatigue, my stomach does not tell me when I am hungry, my bladder does not tell me when it is full, my right arm feels like it is in a bucket of ice at all times, muscle aches, my night vision is much worse, my hearing has changed as sometimes everything blends together and equally frustrating as the fatigue is my inability to retain information I read. If you tell me I will remember but if I read it, it goes into a black hole somewhere. I used to read a lot and I started a book the beginning of the year that should have taken me two days, but all this time later, I am half way and can't tell you what the story is about. So with all these lovely changes to my life, the more tired I am, the worse these things are. I choke on my own spit, the right side of my face goes numb, I can't speak well, my muscles ache constantly and I am trying desperately to build up my stamina. I have had two people, say things to me lately about not getting enough physical activity. Really? One was a doctor who was focused on one particular issue, unaware of the stroke. The other was a friend who I haven't really spent much time with at all. Unaware of what I do daily, yet speaking about what I should do is just like getting a word from the enemy about what God is doing in my life.
Ann Lamott says “You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” When God agrees with us on what somebody needs to do, there is a good chance it is not God at all. We build formulas for healing, for ministering, for teaching, but with formulas, there is no need for Jesus. We get these ideas in our heads that we know what somebody needs, but how can we? We don't know it all. We have to be listening to Jesus at all times and be willing to hear what He wants to say, not what we want to hear.
The other morning, after talking about this for a few days with the Lord, I woke up grabbed a pen and started writing the words He was giving me to speak to others:
I could tell you the whole story, every little detail, but you can't possibly know the whole story. Why? Because there are actually times in history that affect the story, affect who the characters are, but if I don't realize those times are part of the story, then I won't tell them as part of the story and you can't possibly know the whole story. This applies to every story, no matter who owns the story. The only one who knows the whole entire story is Jesus and He holds on to moments that affect the story and keeps them close to Him. Mysteries? To know those moments may be to know Him, because there is really only one story... His story and we may only have a paragraph in a very big story. Maybe only a verse? Some may only be a word in His story. Is this why it is so difficult to believe that we are important and loved by Him, because in His huge story, we are but a word.
Scripture clearly says not to claim your words are His words. Only His words, should be called His words. With all the people who speak without first hearing, the people who finish sentences incorrectly, the people who hear others words, but then say "That's not what they really meant", it's hard to say who is truly listening to the Lord and only repeating, saying what he wants said. Yes, we all get it wrong at times, but we must spend twice as much time listening than we do talking. Would you want to be misquoted??
“Pastors and leaders must recognize, and then relinquish, any methods of control and manipulation they exercise. They must cease to gossip against fellow pastors and other believers, to talk disrespectfully about other ministries, or to reveal personal tidbits shared in confidence with them. Pastors who have privileged information, are sometimes the worst offenders of gossip. They must refrain from talebearing, before the wineskin tears.”
― John Paul Jackson, Unmasking the Jezebel Spirit
Hate Wrapped in Love is still Hate!
“A company of wolves, is better than a company of wolves in sheep's clothing.”
― Anthony Liccione
The Lord speaks to me in parables. When I ask Him to explain something to me, He often times tells me a story in pictures. I believe He does this because a picture is truly worth a thousand words. This morning I asked Him about things that I know are wrong, because He has told me they are wrong, but I still don't fully understand why they are wrong. Sometimes I can argue with myself using scripture and that's when I have to say, explain this to me Lord. If this is really you, then I have to know what I speak for You is true.
A little girl of about 7 years old walks into a butcher shop firmly clutching the hand of her grandfather. His Swedish accent is heavy as He asks for roast beef for tonight's dinner. The little girl loves it when her grandfather makes dinner for the family. She doesn't know why it tastes different than anyone else's cooking, but He said it is the love He puts in it.
As they leave the butcher shop and walk along the store fronts, she tries to read every word in every store window. She stops abruptly when she reads "The best beef in town". Her grandfather quickly picks up on her concern, "It's okay baby girl. That is a lie. We have the best beef in town right here." He holds the package out for her to see.
"Why do they lie about there beef, Grandfather?"
"To make money. It is not real. It is a pill that you eat and it tastes like beef."
"A pill?"
"Yes. Many overweight people like it because it tastes like beef, but there is no calories."
"I don't understand."
"It's a lie. That is what you need to know. Don't ever settle for the counterfeits, Baby Girl."
They continued into the street market where people were selling vegetables, small tools and many other things. The little girl waited patiently while her grandfather purchased potatoes and green beans. As they made their way through the many stands, the little girl saw another sign and read it aloud for her Grandfather, "The best vegetables in the country."
He looked at her for several seconds as He thought about what to do. Finally He led her to the stand and asked the ghost of a woman there if they could see the best potatoes in the country. With pale, bony hands she held up a small pill.
"Do you see, Baby Girl?"
"Yes Grandfather, that is not a potato."
Knowing she was not making a sale, the ghostly woman suggested, "You can slip it into a teaspoon of real potatoes if you want and you still get the great taste, yet only the calories of a teaspoon of potatoes."
A young man came behind the woman and with much more energy began his sales pitch. "These new and improved vegetable pills now give energy. They increase focus and decrease need for sleep. After just a few weeks of ... " his voice faded as Grandfather quickly led the little girl away.
Grandfather stopped at a stand with several flavors of ice cream. He instructed the little girl to pick a flavor for her cone and then they found a picnic table in the shade and sat down to enjoy their ice cream together.
"Grandfather, how do they fit beef and potatoes and beans and stuff in those little pills?"
Bothered that his granddaughter was obsessed with the fake food, he knew he was going to have to explain it all. "Baby girl, what do you think would happen if all you ate were those pills for the rest of your life?"
"I don't know."
"There is no calories, no nutritional value, and a counterfeit taste. Those pills are basically poison. If you eat them you will die a slow death. It might feel good at first having energy and the ability to focus, but as you keep eating them instead of real God made food you will eventually be unable to focus, unable to think, and eventually you will shrivel up and die."
"But what if you ate them with real food. We could even put them in our ice cream."
"They are still poison. Poison is poison, no matter how much you eat. If it is not real it is false. If it does not give life, it gives death. Jesus made food, vegetables, fruit, and fish to feed our bodies. Those pills are the lies of Satan, false food, empty promises. Even if we stuff them in the real thing they are still from the enemy."
The Lord gave me many examples of this. Yoga is idolatry even when it's practiced with Christian music. Dirty Dancing, even when done in a joking manner. Slander/gossip wrapped in a prayer request. Lies, wrapped in good intentions. The change has been so gradual we can't see it. Jeremiah 19 talks about burning their children in a sacrifice to Baal. Now we call it abortion and many unborn children are injected with saline that burns their lungs and scorches their skin, causing them to die. They are sacrificed so women are not burdened with a pregnancy.
Jesus said, Go and sin no more. He wouldn't say that if it were not possible. But so many continue to do what they want and wrap it in their own version of what grace is. How many men and women alike do not consider themselves adulterers yet they are constantly committing adultery with their eyes. If you speak against gambling, drinking, belittling, sexual jokes, etc, then comes the accusations of being religious or having a spirit of religion on you or judging. There is a time coming soon and I believe for some it has already begun when we will have every area of our lives lit up in front of us and a choice to make. Are we going to see the poison and throw it out? Are we going to focus on truth? Or are we going to keep believing what we want to believe and continue to hear what we want God to say to us? It's time to step up and be spiritual adults.
“There is no way to counterfeit courage; we either have it or we do not”
― T.F. Hodge, From Within I Rise: Spiritual Triumph Over Death and Conscious Encounters with "The Divine Presence"
― Anthony Liccione
The Lord speaks to me in parables. When I ask Him to explain something to me, He often times tells me a story in pictures. I believe He does this because a picture is truly worth a thousand words. This morning I asked Him about things that I know are wrong, because He has told me they are wrong, but I still don't fully understand why they are wrong. Sometimes I can argue with myself using scripture and that's when I have to say, explain this to me Lord. If this is really you, then I have to know what I speak for You is true.
A little girl of about 7 years old walks into a butcher shop firmly clutching the hand of her grandfather. His Swedish accent is heavy as He asks for roast beef for tonight's dinner. The little girl loves it when her grandfather makes dinner for the family. She doesn't know why it tastes different than anyone else's cooking, but He said it is the love He puts in it.
As they leave the butcher shop and walk along the store fronts, she tries to read every word in every store window. She stops abruptly when she reads "The best beef in town". Her grandfather quickly picks up on her concern, "It's okay baby girl. That is a lie. We have the best beef in town right here." He holds the package out for her to see.
"Why do they lie about there beef, Grandfather?"
"To make money. It is not real. It is a pill that you eat and it tastes like beef."
"A pill?"
"Yes. Many overweight people like it because it tastes like beef, but there is no calories."
"I don't understand."
"It's a lie. That is what you need to know. Don't ever settle for the counterfeits, Baby Girl."
They continued into the street market where people were selling vegetables, small tools and many other things. The little girl waited patiently while her grandfather purchased potatoes and green beans. As they made their way through the many stands, the little girl saw another sign and read it aloud for her Grandfather, "The best vegetables in the country."
He looked at her for several seconds as He thought about what to do. Finally He led her to the stand and asked the ghost of a woman there if they could see the best potatoes in the country. With pale, bony hands she held up a small pill.
"Do you see, Baby Girl?"
"Yes Grandfather, that is not a potato."
Knowing she was not making a sale, the ghostly woman suggested, "You can slip it into a teaspoon of real potatoes if you want and you still get the great taste, yet only the calories of a teaspoon of potatoes."
A young man came behind the woman and with much more energy began his sales pitch. "These new and improved vegetable pills now give energy. They increase focus and decrease need for sleep. After just a few weeks of ... " his voice faded as Grandfather quickly led the little girl away.
Grandfather stopped at a stand with several flavors of ice cream. He instructed the little girl to pick a flavor for her cone and then they found a picnic table in the shade and sat down to enjoy their ice cream together.
"Grandfather, how do they fit beef and potatoes and beans and stuff in those little pills?"
Bothered that his granddaughter was obsessed with the fake food, he knew he was going to have to explain it all. "Baby girl, what do you think would happen if all you ate were those pills for the rest of your life?"
"I don't know."
"There is no calories, no nutritional value, and a counterfeit taste. Those pills are basically poison. If you eat them you will die a slow death. It might feel good at first having energy and the ability to focus, but as you keep eating them instead of real God made food you will eventually be unable to focus, unable to think, and eventually you will shrivel up and die."
"But what if you ate them with real food. We could even put them in our ice cream."
"They are still poison. Poison is poison, no matter how much you eat. If it is not real it is false. If it does not give life, it gives death. Jesus made food, vegetables, fruit, and fish to feed our bodies. Those pills are the lies of Satan, false food, empty promises. Even if we stuff them in the real thing they are still from the enemy."
The Lord gave me many examples of this. Yoga is idolatry even when it's practiced with Christian music. Dirty Dancing, even when done in a joking manner. Slander/gossip wrapped in a prayer request. Lies, wrapped in good intentions. The change has been so gradual we can't see it. Jeremiah 19 talks about burning their children in a sacrifice to Baal. Now we call it abortion and many unborn children are injected with saline that burns their lungs and scorches their skin, causing them to die. They are sacrificed so women are not burdened with a pregnancy.
Jesus said, Go and sin no more. He wouldn't say that if it were not possible. But so many continue to do what they want and wrap it in their own version of what grace is. How many men and women alike do not consider themselves adulterers yet they are constantly committing adultery with their eyes. If you speak against gambling, drinking, belittling, sexual jokes, etc, then comes the accusations of being religious or having a spirit of religion on you or judging. There is a time coming soon and I believe for some it has already begun when we will have every area of our lives lit up in front of us and a choice to make. Are we going to see the poison and throw it out? Are we going to focus on truth? Or are we going to keep believing what we want to believe and continue to hear what we want God to say to us? It's time to step up and be spiritual adults.
“There is no way to counterfeit courage; we either have it or we do not”
― T.F. Hodge, From Within I Rise: Spiritual Triumph Over Death and Conscious Encounters with "The Divine Presence"
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Answers to Unprayed Prayers.
“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
― Albert Einstein
I may have told this story before, but today it is huge in my head!! It's about answers to unprayed prayers. It's about those times when Jesus totally sets you up. For instance, praying in tongues is an amazing gift from God that we can all have. I don't even know what I am saying, but the tears are rolling and I know He is looking into places of my heart I did not know existed. I heard a story about a man and his mentor. The man said he was okay with not being married. He was available for whatever God had for him. He was happy with his freedom to be available. But, one day his mentor was listening to him on his knees praying in tongues to God when suddenly the mentor received the interpretation of the tongues he was praying. He was crying out to God for a wife and a family he didn't even know he wanted. There are places in our heart we have blocked off and forgotten. When the mentor shared the interpretation with the man, it only took months before he was married and had a child on the way. It's so good when He answers prayers that we didn't know we prayed.
My story happened years ago while I lived in Texas. I answered phones, so I had a lot of free time. That was my only responsibility and I was second in line to answer, so it was very slow at times. They didn't care what I did between calls as long as I answered right away when the phone rang. I bought a notebook and a pen and I started writing a story. I still have it around here somewhere, but I never did anything with it. Actually it wasn't about the story as it was an answer to an unprayed prayer. The story was about a rape. A woman was raped, while her male friend was tied to a chair in the next room. I wrote the story from his perspective, sharing his feelings, though I wondered how I knew his feelings. As I wrote, chapter by chapter I would turn the story over to one of the owners of the company and good friend of mine and he would read it that night and return it the next day at work so I could continue writing. Some day's he would become impatient if he didn't see me spending as much time writing as he thought I should.
There was a part in the story where the male friend was so frustrated and angry he beat a tree with a stick, until his hands were bloodied. My friend who was reading the story asked how I knew how this man felt. I didn't know, though years later I put it together that it was from being molested at the same time as much younger girls. Being the oldest and protective brought out those feelings a man would have who was unable to protect, not wanting to believe he was also a victim.
One day my friend asked me to go for dinner. I thought nothing of it, because we did it often. As we ate he began to tell me his story. It was many years earlier when he was working in another state. He took his wife and new baby with him, not wanting to be away from them that long. He went to work one morning only to receive a call to get back to the motel. His wife had been raped by knifepoint. I will never forget the look on his face or the tears in his eyes. I had no idea when I started the story, that God was using me. My friend told me he packed up his family and drove home and they never spoke of it. I instantly knew the damage of not talking about it and how that eats away at your worth and replaces it with shame. The miracle was that he knew it had probably been the reason they were no longer married. I told him what that feels like when nobody wants to hear about it, or talk about it. He made a dinner date with her to say he was sorry for not talking.
I was not following God at the time. In fact I was about as far from God as I could be. But I prayed while they were at dinner. The next morning at work his face said it all. They had talked. They had apologized for the silence. They forgave. They cried together. They are remarried today. Who knew? It blows my mind that Jesus planned that all out and used me without any of us knowing what He was up to.
As far as I know my friend and his ex-wife were not praying about that situation exactly. I doubt either was praying they would get back together. But God knew what needed to be healed and He made it happen without prayer. Yesterday I did ministry with a friend and there was a song she plays often and I always forget to ask who the band is. I remembered yesterday and she said, United Pursuit. WHAT? What an awesome name for a band who sings about Jesus. I love being United with Him in His Pursuit!!
If you are seeking after God, you may be sure of this: God is seeking you much more. He is the Lover, and you are His beloved. He has promised himself to you. - John of the Cross
― Albert Einstein
I may have told this story before, but today it is huge in my head!! It's about answers to unprayed prayers. It's about those times when Jesus totally sets you up. For instance, praying in tongues is an amazing gift from God that we can all have. I don't even know what I am saying, but the tears are rolling and I know He is looking into places of my heart I did not know existed. I heard a story about a man and his mentor. The man said he was okay with not being married. He was available for whatever God had for him. He was happy with his freedom to be available. But, one day his mentor was listening to him on his knees praying in tongues to God when suddenly the mentor received the interpretation of the tongues he was praying. He was crying out to God for a wife and a family he didn't even know he wanted. There are places in our heart we have blocked off and forgotten. When the mentor shared the interpretation with the man, it only took months before he was married and had a child on the way. It's so good when He answers prayers that we didn't know we prayed.
My story happened years ago while I lived in Texas. I answered phones, so I had a lot of free time. That was my only responsibility and I was second in line to answer, so it was very slow at times. They didn't care what I did between calls as long as I answered right away when the phone rang. I bought a notebook and a pen and I started writing a story. I still have it around here somewhere, but I never did anything with it. Actually it wasn't about the story as it was an answer to an unprayed prayer. The story was about a rape. A woman was raped, while her male friend was tied to a chair in the next room. I wrote the story from his perspective, sharing his feelings, though I wondered how I knew his feelings. As I wrote, chapter by chapter I would turn the story over to one of the owners of the company and good friend of mine and he would read it that night and return it the next day at work so I could continue writing. Some day's he would become impatient if he didn't see me spending as much time writing as he thought I should.
There was a part in the story where the male friend was so frustrated and angry he beat a tree with a stick, until his hands were bloodied. My friend who was reading the story asked how I knew how this man felt. I didn't know, though years later I put it together that it was from being molested at the same time as much younger girls. Being the oldest and protective brought out those feelings a man would have who was unable to protect, not wanting to believe he was also a victim.
One day my friend asked me to go for dinner. I thought nothing of it, because we did it often. As we ate he began to tell me his story. It was many years earlier when he was working in another state. He took his wife and new baby with him, not wanting to be away from them that long. He went to work one morning only to receive a call to get back to the motel. His wife had been raped by knifepoint. I will never forget the look on his face or the tears in his eyes. I had no idea when I started the story, that God was using me. My friend told me he packed up his family and drove home and they never spoke of it. I instantly knew the damage of not talking about it and how that eats away at your worth and replaces it with shame. The miracle was that he knew it had probably been the reason they were no longer married. I told him what that feels like when nobody wants to hear about it, or talk about it. He made a dinner date with her to say he was sorry for not talking.
I was not following God at the time. In fact I was about as far from God as I could be. But I prayed while they were at dinner. The next morning at work his face said it all. They had talked. They had apologized for the silence. They forgave. They cried together. They are remarried today. Who knew? It blows my mind that Jesus planned that all out and used me without any of us knowing what He was up to.
As far as I know my friend and his ex-wife were not praying about that situation exactly. I doubt either was praying they would get back together. But God knew what needed to be healed and He made it happen without prayer. Yesterday I did ministry with a friend and there was a song she plays often and I always forget to ask who the band is. I remembered yesterday and she said, United Pursuit. WHAT? What an awesome name for a band who sings about Jesus. I love being United with Him in His Pursuit!!
If you are seeking after God, you may be sure of this: God is seeking you much more. He is the Lover, and you are His beloved. He has promised himself to you. - John of the Cross
Sunday, March 6, 2016
Is the Son in Your Eyes?
“I want neither a terrorist spirituality that keeps me in a perpetual state of fright about being in right relationship with my heavenly Father nor a sappy spirituality that portrays God as such a benign teddy bear that there is no aberrant behavior or desire of mine that he will not condone. I want a relationship with the Abba of Jesus, who is infinitely compassionate with my brokenness and at the same time an awesome, incomprehensible, and unwieldy Mystery. ”
― Brennan Manning
A new mother, with a baby who refuses to sleep at night and a small child who leaves at first light for Disneyland, have opposite views of the same sunrise. It doesn't change the sunrise. It is what it is. A shelf can look totally different to a short person, than it does to a tall. Even kindness can look different to two homeless people. One may want a new set of clothes while the other says, "Am I not good enough for you?" There are so many things that play into how we see things. One child may see a parent as loving and a sibling sees that same parent as expecting too much. Maybe they are both right. Have you ever had a friend who another of your friends hated? AND they were correct in what they saw that caused them to hate, but they refused to see the brokenness or good that you saw?
I was following a facebook conversation on a page I do not agree with at all. One lady said, "Take your Bible and shove it." I froze. I could only stare at those words and wonder "All right, what kind of Christian hurt this woman and how deeply? Will she ever come out of it?" I'm sorry Lady for my brothers and sisters and their bad behavior. I pray for all those people on those pages, that they would find the One who loves them Most. They are looking for Him, they just don't know it and their vision has been messed up (probably) by those who say they have found Him.
Scripture should be the truth we all agree on, but two can read the same verse and hear two different things. As with Job, people want to find a reason they like as to why God allowed the enemy to do the things he did to Job. He was prideful or he wasn't making his kids obey, etc. What if the reason that God allowed the enemy to do those things to Job was because He knew Job would come out of it with his faith intact and a better person for it. What if the results weren't about Job, but for the enemy alone to see? What if the story in the bible for us to read thousands of years later would cause us comfort? What if we never know the reason. I have heard it said and I believe He loves us all, but He does not treat us all the same. I didn't treat my kids the same. One may need more discipline. One may need more hugs. One may need more forgiveness, direction, laughs, or spankings.
Almost two years ago, the Lord told me to give away everything. I did. Even though many said that God would never ask someone to do that, I did what He asked. I have a car and a bed and no income. I come from a town where looks and money are very important and say a lot about who you are. I have played the role where I get my hair and nails done every other week. To be honest, this was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I have learned so much. Money, things, mean nothing to me. Even things I used to enjoy don't please my eye like they used to. Some may take their spouse out to an expensive dinner occasionally as a way to say I love you, but what that meal may have done for me in the past, a burger and a meal with a homeless person or buying a burger for a broken person who needs a listening ear, does now. That is much more satisfying to me than the same meat costing much more because of the chef and the fancy table cloth. I was actually angry with God for expecting so much from me, while others around me were blessed, but now I am so thankful for all I have learned. Money, things, no longer impress me and I actually feel sorry for the fool who brags on his financial achievements while his neighbor is hungry. He is missing out on the healing that comes with ministering to another. God has taken care of me. I am always fed. I have fuel to go where He sends me. I need nothing and my "flesh wants" are dying off while my "heart wants" for others are growing.
We all get it in our heads that others need to see the true God that lives in our belief system, but that same God who never changes, may never be the same to any two of us. This can be because of my call. It could be because of the circumstances around you. It might be about someone else and not have a thing to do with us. We have to see the true biblical God for who He is, but understand that our relationship may be a little different than our sibs.
“We might be wise to follow the insight of the enraptured heart rather than the more cautious reasoning of the theological mind.”
― A.W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy
― Brennan Manning
A new mother, with a baby who refuses to sleep at night and a small child who leaves at first light for Disneyland, have opposite views of the same sunrise. It doesn't change the sunrise. It is what it is. A shelf can look totally different to a short person, than it does to a tall. Even kindness can look different to two homeless people. One may want a new set of clothes while the other says, "Am I not good enough for you?" There are so many things that play into how we see things. One child may see a parent as loving and a sibling sees that same parent as expecting too much. Maybe they are both right. Have you ever had a friend who another of your friends hated? AND they were correct in what they saw that caused them to hate, but they refused to see the brokenness or good that you saw?
I was following a facebook conversation on a page I do not agree with at all. One lady said, "Take your Bible and shove it." I froze. I could only stare at those words and wonder "All right, what kind of Christian hurt this woman and how deeply? Will she ever come out of it?" I'm sorry Lady for my brothers and sisters and their bad behavior. I pray for all those people on those pages, that they would find the One who loves them Most. They are looking for Him, they just don't know it and their vision has been messed up (probably) by those who say they have found Him.
Scripture should be the truth we all agree on, but two can read the same verse and hear two different things. As with Job, people want to find a reason they like as to why God allowed the enemy to do the things he did to Job. He was prideful or he wasn't making his kids obey, etc. What if the reason that God allowed the enemy to do those things to Job was because He knew Job would come out of it with his faith intact and a better person for it. What if the results weren't about Job, but for the enemy alone to see? What if the story in the bible for us to read thousands of years later would cause us comfort? What if we never know the reason. I have heard it said and I believe He loves us all, but He does not treat us all the same. I didn't treat my kids the same. One may need more discipline. One may need more hugs. One may need more forgiveness, direction, laughs, or spankings.
Almost two years ago, the Lord told me to give away everything. I did. Even though many said that God would never ask someone to do that, I did what He asked. I have a car and a bed and no income. I come from a town where looks and money are very important and say a lot about who you are. I have played the role where I get my hair and nails done every other week. To be honest, this was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I have learned so much. Money, things, mean nothing to me. Even things I used to enjoy don't please my eye like they used to. Some may take their spouse out to an expensive dinner occasionally as a way to say I love you, but what that meal may have done for me in the past, a burger and a meal with a homeless person or buying a burger for a broken person who needs a listening ear, does now. That is much more satisfying to me than the same meat costing much more because of the chef and the fancy table cloth. I was actually angry with God for expecting so much from me, while others around me were blessed, but now I am so thankful for all I have learned. Money, things, no longer impress me and I actually feel sorry for the fool who brags on his financial achievements while his neighbor is hungry. He is missing out on the healing that comes with ministering to another. God has taken care of me. I am always fed. I have fuel to go where He sends me. I need nothing and my "flesh wants" are dying off while my "heart wants" for others are growing.
We all get it in our heads that others need to see the true God that lives in our belief system, but that same God who never changes, may never be the same to any two of us. This can be because of my call. It could be because of the circumstances around you. It might be about someone else and not have a thing to do with us. We have to see the true biblical God for who He is, but understand that our relationship may be a little different than our sibs.
“We might be wise to follow the insight of the enraptured heart rather than the more cautious reasoning of the theological mind.”
― A.W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
Can You Say Perspective?
“Your perspective on life comes from the cage you were held captive in.”
― Shannon L. Alder
I have realized that our plans don't mean diddley next to God's. On February first I posted about my plan to write out the story of my stroke and work through some serious stuff. I should have known better. God had His own plan. First of all that evening, I became a grandma again. That throws your plans onto the back burner really fast. Then on Valentine's day, I couldn't catch my breath. I was dizzy and having chest pains. As usual through my life, I minimized it, but there came a moment, it just wasn't working for me. I was with a friend who took me to another friends and three of them prayed. Needless to say I ended up looking down the barrel of a cardiologists stethoscope on Heart Day! Woo Hoo!!
In my professional minimizing opinion I truly believed I would be fed some meds and sent home, but they moved me in for a couple days to take a better look. I guess the positive is: I do have a heart. It's just not working right. Ha. I didn't do any ministering this time. I didn't call my kids in. I barely called anyone. I spent a lot of time thinking and asking questions. I was in a unit in the hospital they call the Something Decision Unit. The junk drawer. Something/someone is too valuable to throw away, but there is really no right place to put it/them. And the value can vary from person to person's perspective.
I haven't really shared all the health info with many people, because I have no idea what it means. I have not met with all the doctors yet to tell me if I should get my affairs in order or if this is something most people have? Once you tell people, many have to share their opinion and it comes from their own field of experience, be that knowing someone with a similar condition or fear of abandonment. One person could look at this and freak and the next could say "no big deal". The thing that hit me about this: What ever it means to me, I will project onto others. This is dangerous and a very important reason that gossip is a killer. All I can do is tell the truth as I know it. This is what is wrong and I have yet to find out if this is serious or not. When we see people through our own field of experience we distort truth. There is my truth, your truth and THE Truth. God's truth!
Lately the Lord has been highlighting the many needy people in my life. I attract them like flies on ... and I have no tolerance for it. As I could with my health condition, people project their broken opinions of others. Depending how many bars are still on your prison cell, your view of reality is skewed that much. As healing happens, freedom comes and the bars are removed, the picture becomes clearer. Someone who is insecure can see a bold person as abusive. They can see a person who says no to them as a hater. Then when they talk about that person or victim of perspective, they project on to others their view, instead of God's truth, because until they are healed, they can't see God's truth.
The biggest need (in my opinion) in the Kingdom of God is for believer's to be healed and know their identity in Him. One of my character defects is a lack of patience for the person who says they have been a believer for many years, yet they are still causing chaos and drama over their own insecurity. There comes a time when you do what is right, no matter how it makes you feel. Feelings are not a good representation of truth and too many people are living by their feelings.
I think it had something to do with looking the spirit of death in it's dark eyes. If you have trouble prioritizing things in your life, stare into the dark eyes of death for a good ten minutes. Your whole life, belief system and list of priorities can change. It causes you to truly live more ... on purpose. I am going to choose holding my new baby granddaughter in my arms or picking up my 5 year old grandson from school over high school drama with middle aged insecure people. I only have so much energy each day and so much time to use it before it runs out. I am not going to waste a bit of it.
I am not sure why God is highlighting this, though it is probably because I was once all about me. I had an old friend get mad at me while I was in the hospital because I didn't call her right away. I did call her the day I found out I had a stroke. She mentioned it more than once that I did not call her immediately. Sorry, I was busy having a stroke and taking care of myself. Have I heard from her since? Has she called to see if I am okay? Not once. I had others say things like "My great aunt Suzy had 4 strokes" or "You need to ... " or when I was totally exhausted, fatigued, people I met for the first time, talked for 2 hours while I nodded my head and tried to stay awake. Me, me me. Then there are those who want to be part of the trauma so they can turn it into their drama. People who have barely made it past acquaintance, like to tell how their good friend is on their death bed so that they can get the "I'm so sorry you are going through this".
The point of all of this is not to run down broken people, but to remind us that others opinions are as broken as they are. When we hear a negative about someone, go to God. Ask Him what you are to do with that information. Throw it away, pray or call the person on their broken perspective? So many abused people make up their own reality and sometimes we have to ask, is that what really happened or is that what happened in your head? I am no longer catering to the imagination of those who are broken.
“Because introverts are typically good listeners and, at least, have the appearance of calmness, we are attractive to emotionally needy people. Introverts, gratified that other people are initiating with them, can easily get caught in these exhausting and unsatisfying relationships.”
― Adam S. McHugh
― Shannon L. Alder
I have realized that our plans don't mean diddley next to God's. On February first I posted about my plan to write out the story of my stroke and work through some serious stuff. I should have known better. God had His own plan. First of all that evening, I became a grandma again. That throws your plans onto the back burner really fast. Then on Valentine's day, I couldn't catch my breath. I was dizzy and having chest pains. As usual through my life, I minimized it, but there came a moment, it just wasn't working for me. I was with a friend who took me to another friends and three of them prayed. Needless to say I ended up looking down the barrel of a cardiologists stethoscope on Heart Day! Woo Hoo!!
In my professional minimizing opinion I truly believed I would be fed some meds and sent home, but they moved me in for a couple days to take a better look. I guess the positive is: I do have a heart. It's just not working right. Ha. I didn't do any ministering this time. I didn't call my kids in. I barely called anyone. I spent a lot of time thinking and asking questions. I was in a unit in the hospital they call the Something Decision Unit. The junk drawer. Something/someone is too valuable to throw away, but there is really no right place to put it/them. And the value can vary from person to person's perspective.
I haven't really shared all the health info with many people, because I have no idea what it means. I have not met with all the doctors yet to tell me if I should get my affairs in order or if this is something most people have? Once you tell people, many have to share their opinion and it comes from their own field of experience, be that knowing someone with a similar condition or fear of abandonment. One person could look at this and freak and the next could say "no big deal". The thing that hit me about this: What ever it means to me, I will project onto others. This is dangerous and a very important reason that gossip is a killer. All I can do is tell the truth as I know it. This is what is wrong and I have yet to find out if this is serious or not. When we see people through our own field of experience we distort truth. There is my truth, your truth and THE Truth. God's truth!
Lately the Lord has been highlighting the many needy people in my life. I attract them like flies on ... and I have no tolerance for it. As I could with my health condition, people project their broken opinions of others. Depending how many bars are still on your prison cell, your view of reality is skewed that much. As healing happens, freedom comes and the bars are removed, the picture becomes clearer. Someone who is insecure can see a bold person as abusive. They can see a person who says no to them as a hater. Then when they talk about that person or victim of perspective, they project on to others their view, instead of God's truth, because until they are healed, they can't see God's truth.
The biggest need (in my opinion) in the Kingdom of God is for believer's to be healed and know their identity in Him. One of my character defects is a lack of patience for the person who says they have been a believer for many years, yet they are still causing chaos and drama over their own insecurity. There comes a time when you do what is right, no matter how it makes you feel. Feelings are not a good representation of truth and too many people are living by their feelings.
I think it had something to do with looking the spirit of death in it's dark eyes. If you have trouble prioritizing things in your life, stare into the dark eyes of death for a good ten minutes. Your whole life, belief system and list of priorities can change. It causes you to truly live more ... on purpose. I am going to choose holding my new baby granddaughter in my arms or picking up my 5 year old grandson from school over high school drama with middle aged insecure people. I only have so much energy each day and so much time to use it before it runs out. I am not going to waste a bit of it.
I am not sure why God is highlighting this, though it is probably because I was once all about me. I had an old friend get mad at me while I was in the hospital because I didn't call her right away. I did call her the day I found out I had a stroke. She mentioned it more than once that I did not call her immediately. Sorry, I was busy having a stroke and taking care of myself. Have I heard from her since? Has she called to see if I am okay? Not once. I had others say things like "My great aunt Suzy had 4 strokes" or "You need to ... " or when I was totally exhausted, fatigued, people I met for the first time, talked for 2 hours while I nodded my head and tried to stay awake. Me, me me. Then there are those who want to be part of the trauma so they can turn it into their drama. People who have barely made it past acquaintance, like to tell how their good friend is on their death bed so that they can get the "I'm so sorry you are going through this".
The point of all of this is not to run down broken people, but to remind us that others opinions are as broken as they are. When we hear a negative about someone, go to God. Ask Him what you are to do with that information. Throw it away, pray or call the person on their broken perspective? So many abused people make up their own reality and sometimes we have to ask, is that what really happened or is that what happened in your head? I am no longer catering to the imagination of those who are broken.
“Because introverts are typically good listeners and, at least, have the appearance of calmness, we are attractive to emotionally needy people. Introverts, gratified that other people are initiating with them, can easily get caught in these exhausting and unsatisfying relationships.”
― Adam S. McHugh
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
This is worship?
Galatians 6:7 (NASB)
7 Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, this he will also reap.
Yesterday I heard a story of a man who mocked a man of God who was prophesying and paid with his life. When I hear stories like this, I always check myself. I do not want to mock God, knowingly or unknowingly. I thought about it. I prayed about. I spilled my thoughts to God and I listened for His words. To be honest, I am sad and I am angry.
A couple years ago when I was first chasing after Jesus, I watched a local church on line. One thing that bothered me every time I tuned into that service was the people getting up to get coffee, use the rest room, and/or whatever else they were doing. I thought it was a total disrespect to the pastor. Over time I have accepted that this is the church, but this morning I have a whole new anger. If we read what the church in Acts looks like and compare it to the church today, I have questions. Where is the verse that says, get the biggest building you can find? I can't find a verse on making the Church comfortable or providing coffee, but these aren't even the issues God wants to talk about this morning. No, this morning He wants to talk about our worship. I have been in a place of worship where his presence is so strong that people are changed just being in the room, so I know what it can be. But when a church allows 17 minutes for what they call worship and there are people getting coffee, talking and texting the word mockery comes to mind.
I can understand a person who does not know God or has not yet realized the greatness of His presence, moving around during worship, but shouldn't the Lord be invited in such a way that people realize what worship is. I think the church is really missing it in the area of explaining worship, communion, and God, among other things. Maybe the Church doesn't really know what it is to be in His presence. We claim to know this awesome being, the Creator of every thing that exists, who gave us our very breath and we say we gather to worship Him, but is that what we are really doing? When the staff member is in the back of the room, whispering, "I knew they would love this song?" Is it really about God? Is the Holy Spirit really leading the worship team? If He is, He should get the glory for what happens there. He should get the credit for the song that moved people closer to Him.
If we are truly following God, what we have to lose should never enter our mind. What people think should not ever be a concern greater than our concern over what God thinks. The same God that we are inviting into the church building so that we can spend 12 minutes worshipping Him, told Moses to take off his shoes, he was on Holy ground. Do we have to audibly hear His voice to realize we are in His presence? We invited Him. Do any of us understand who we are talking about? As much intimate, amazing, time as I have spent conversing with Jesus, the Holy Spirit and God, I would probably still wet myself if He spoke to me audibly. Why? Does that break down some barrier between us. Great is the faith of those who do not see and I have to believe hearing goes right along with that. To continue to have faith when we believe we have heard God and realize we didn't or didn't hear Him correctly, I admit is tough, but who do we think we are believing in? Have we become so callous, desensitized, or distant from the God we read about in the bible that we don't fall on our faces when we feel His presence in the room, even after we invited Him?
There is a man I have been watching for the last three years. I value his words above many other leaders. Why? Because he falls on his face during worship. He admits when he may have heard God wrong. The awe of being in God's presence is all over this man. He recently said that he has been in ministry for several years and the longer he is doing this the less he knows. I love that about him. He is not a know it all and is in total awe of the one who does know it all. This is the kind of leader, this is a leader, so many people respect.
It's not surprising that we would be so disrespectful of God that we would invite Him into our church building so that we could worship Him and then be distracted by a million other things. How many times have we invited another person for coffee or dinner and then spent the whole time talking on our phone or answering text messages. We are a disrespectful society. Who do you think is behind that instant craving for a cup of coffee during the allotted time for worship? Our spouse? Our flesh? The enemy? Just being limited in the amount of time we worship is not God.
We talk about unity, but where have we seen the greatest unity, the deepest love for others? I can tell you where I have seen it: at a church with unlimited worship. Worship can go on for an hour or more. Worship led by the Holy Spirit lasts longer than the message given by the pastor who heard it from the holy Spirit. The hugs and talk after a service like that is so different than the small shallow talk I have seen at other churches. People pray for each other, talk about their deep issues and linger longer, wanting to stay in the atmosphere that was created by inviting God and allowing Him to lead. Honestly, maybe I shouldn't be so hard on the worship time coffee drinker. He isn't actually walking away from God's presence if God isn't there.
1 Peter 1:15-16New American Standard Bible (NASB)
15 but [a]like the Holy One who called you, [b]be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; 16 because it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.”
7 Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, this he will also reap.
Yesterday I heard a story of a man who mocked a man of God who was prophesying and paid with his life. When I hear stories like this, I always check myself. I do not want to mock God, knowingly or unknowingly. I thought about it. I prayed about. I spilled my thoughts to God and I listened for His words. To be honest, I am sad and I am angry.
A couple years ago when I was first chasing after Jesus, I watched a local church on line. One thing that bothered me every time I tuned into that service was the people getting up to get coffee, use the rest room, and/or whatever else they were doing. I thought it was a total disrespect to the pastor. Over time I have accepted that this is the church, but this morning I have a whole new anger. If we read what the church in Acts looks like and compare it to the church today, I have questions. Where is the verse that says, get the biggest building you can find? I can't find a verse on making the Church comfortable or providing coffee, but these aren't even the issues God wants to talk about this morning. No, this morning He wants to talk about our worship. I have been in a place of worship where his presence is so strong that people are changed just being in the room, so I know what it can be. But when a church allows 17 minutes for what they call worship and there are people getting coffee, talking and texting the word mockery comes to mind.
I can understand a person who does not know God or has not yet realized the greatness of His presence, moving around during worship, but shouldn't the Lord be invited in such a way that people realize what worship is. I think the church is really missing it in the area of explaining worship, communion, and God, among other things. Maybe the Church doesn't really know what it is to be in His presence. We claim to know this awesome being, the Creator of every thing that exists, who gave us our very breath and we say we gather to worship Him, but is that what we are really doing? When the staff member is in the back of the room, whispering, "I knew they would love this song?" Is it really about God? Is the Holy Spirit really leading the worship team? If He is, He should get the glory for what happens there. He should get the credit for the song that moved people closer to Him.
If we are truly following God, what we have to lose should never enter our mind. What people think should not ever be a concern greater than our concern over what God thinks. The same God that we are inviting into the church building so that we can spend 12 minutes worshipping Him, told Moses to take off his shoes, he was on Holy ground. Do we have to audibly hear His voice to realize we are in His presence? We invited Him. Do any of us understand who we are talking about? As much intimate, amazing, time as I have spent conversing with Jesus, the Holy Spirit and God, I would probably still wet myself if He spoke to me audibly. Why? Does that break down some barrier between us. Great is the faith of those who do not see and I have to believe hearing goes right along with that. To continue to have faith when we believe we have heard God and realize we didn't or didn't hear Him correctly, I admit is tough, but who do we think we are believing in? Have we become so callous, desensitized, or distant from the God we read about in the bible that we don't fall on our faces when we feel His presence in the room, even after we invited Him?
There is a man I have been watching for the last three years. I value his words above many other leaders. Why? Because he falls on his face during worship. He admits when he may have heard God wrong. The awe of being in God's presence is all over this man. He recently said that he has been in ministry for several years and the longer he is doing this the less he knows. I love that about him. He is not a know it all and is in total awe of the one who does know it all. This is the kind of leader, this is a leader, so many people respect.
It's not surprising that we would be so disrespectful of God that we would invite Him into our church building so that we could worship Him and then be distracted by a million other things. How many times have we invited another person for coffee or dinner and then spent the whole time talking on our phone or answering text messages. We are a disrespectful society. Who do you think is behind that instant craving for a cup of coffee during the allotted time for worship? Our spouse? Our flesh? The enemy? Just being limited in the amount of time we worship is not God.
We talk about unity, but where have we seen the greatest unity, the deepest love for others? I can tell you where I have seen it: at a church with unlimited worship. Worship can go on for an hour or more. Worship led by the Holy Spirit lasts longer than the message given by the pastor who heard it from the holy Spirit. The hugs and talk after a service like that is so different than the small shallow talk I have seen at other churches. People pray for each other, talk about their deep issues and linger longer, wanting to stay in the atmosphere that was created by inviting God and allowing Him to lead. Honestly, maybe I shouldn't be so hard on the worship time coffee drinker. He isn't actually walking away from God's presence if God isn't there.
1 Peter 1:15-16New American Standard Bible (NASB)
15 but [a]like the Holy One who called you, [b]be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; 16 because it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.”
It is about me, at least for now.
“Powerful people are not affected or infected by their environment. They refuse to be victims of others.”
― Danny Silk, Keep Your Love On: Connection Communication And Boundaries
I had been in the hospital for two nights with my kids by my side at all times. I had more friends, who are really my family now, come to visit me and pray for me and my kids. We prayed trauma off my kids and the friends who had supported me along the road the day of the stroke. But then I caught on to something going on, something being whispered between my girls. I finally asked. Apparently my mother and step-dad were sitting in a waiting room in the hospital. The first thing that hit me was, they had never even crossed my mind. It had never even dawned on me to call them? Why? Several reasons. She is not a comfort to me, in fact she is the opposite, unneeded stress. My life is not her business. I couldn't fake it and refused to fake it. I did find the positive in that my girls got comfort from some of the things my step-dad advised them on. But when someone pushes their nose into your business when they are not welcome, eventually you don't share anything with them. A mother should not read the diary of a daughter in her late twenties. Yes, she has done things like that my whole life. She noses into what she wants to know, but yet, when asked why she stayed friends with a man who raped me repeatedly, her response is that it was too uncomfortable to end the relationship. My comfort has never been a concern. My whole life has never been about my comfort. Even Christmas, after I had kids we were all still forced to give my mother the Christmas she never had. I forgave her, but I do not have to accept her in my life, especially without her changing her behavior.
It was in this moment of realizing that she was in that hospital that I had to force myself to stay calm for my kids and for my own health. It reminded me of years ago in treatment, when I was asked to describe my relationship with my parents. I don't remember what I said about my dad, but I do remember how I described my mother. Imagine a bus full of young children out of control and heading for a cliff. Somehow I figure out how to get my pick up between the bus and the cliff and the children are all saved, yet I am now in a full body cast. Mother would come to the hospital furious, "I do not have time for this." Who cares the kids were saved. Who cares all my bones are broken? Her schedule is much more important. Now is the time I don't have to put her first. I'm sure she will be on the phone calling those who will listen and telling them how badly she has it, that her daughter had a stroke or to those close enough how badly I treated her. I decided in that moment to forgive her one more time and forget her. I have to focus on me. The reason I include this in my story is because I have talked with so many abused women who feel the same way. There are many abused men and women who can forgive the abuser, but to accept that a mother doesn't protect is much more difficult. Even the most ugly vicious animals protect their young.
One of the first days in the hospital my spiritual mom, my authority, prayed for me and looked me in the eyes and said, "You are not responsible to keep everyone happy. You take care of you." That became clearer every day. I had so many visitors and friends that I slept each night content to know that I was not alone. All those people I hoped meant it when they said they loved me, convinced me a little more that they really did. If nothing else came from the stroke, I found out I have true friends/family.
The two greatest commandments are to love God and to love your neighbor as you love yourself. I wonder if God put it that way so that those who put themselves above others would understand how they needed to love others. And those who put others above themselves understood how they need to love themselves. This was a time for me to love myself. This was not going to be easy. Loving yourself is saying what you need and saying what you don't want, no matter what others say or do. I needed peace. I needed peace and rest for me and my kids, especially my pregnant daughter. We prayed trauma off that baby almost every day.
There are miracle healings that happen in an instant and many times I have wondered why many healings don't happen that way. Yet as I walked through each day of healing from this stroke, He is teaching me so much about me and more importantly about Him. One thing I learned is when I put a broken persons wants before my own needs, it is pride. I am putting others opinions of me before God's opinion of me.
I realized through the stroke, how many needy people I had in my life. The more broken you are the more your thoughts revolve around you. Everyone's actions somehow are about you, directed at you, because of you ... at least in your own mind. As you get healing and the wounds of your heart are addressed, your thoughts and concerns become more about others, and yet, others do not rule your life. So many try to push us to think of others first, but when wounds are not addressed and pain is not healed it is impossible to think of anyone but yourself for any length of time. The saddest part of all of this is that your behavior reflects the age of the wound. The only way to grow, to move past the wound is to submit, invite Jesus to do whatever He knows has to be done to heal you, no matter the pain or discomfort. If you can't trust Him to do that, you will continue through life as a wounded child needing what you can't get from anyone but Him.
I have to put myself first. My health depended on it. I never feared not healing. I knew God was there, even though He seemed to be talking to me through others more than talking to me directly. That was okay. That moment when you think you might die, things become very clear. It hit me the second day in the hospital, after the MRI, but before the stroke diagnosis. What if I die? I grabbed a friend and made him promise he would bring in the pastor, the one who had one time kept me alive, yet now we could not seem to speak to each other without fighting. I had to clean up my side of the street with him. That was it? That was the only thing that crossed my mind. My kids know they are my world. My grandkids are the only competition they have. I tell my friends how I feel about them, so they know. Those who are still stuck in the "Me" stage will only bring drama and forget me in no time, because they only see themselves. I have no regrets. I have lived my life as a broken person, trying to please everyone so they will love me and I no longer choose to do that. No person will control my actions unless they are under 5 years old and I am getting paid by the hour to be with them.
The rest of my life is about Jesus and me. To be healthy and to have healthy relationships is my priority. I will no longer play drama games. I will no longer put others before God.
“Because introverts are typically good listeners and, at least, have the appearance of calmness, we are attractive to emotionally needy people. Introverts, gratified that other people are initiating with them, can easily get caught in these exhausting and unsatisfying relationships.”
― Adam S. McHugh
― Danny Silk, Keep Your Love On: Connection Communication And Boundaries
I had been in the hospital for two nights with my kids by my side at all times. I had more friends, who are really my family now, come to visit me and pray for me and my kids. We prayed trauma off my kids and the friends who had supported me along the road the day of the stroke. But then I caught on to something going on, something being whispered between my girls. I finally asked. Apparently my mother and step-dad were sitting in a waiting room in the hospital. The first thing that hit me was, they had never even crossed my mind. It had never even dawned on me to call them? Why? Several reasons. She is not a comfort to me, in fact she is the opposite, unneeded stress. My life is not her business. I couldn't fake it and refused to fake it. I did find the positive in that my girls got comfort from some of the things my step-dad advised them on. But when someone pushes their nose into your business when they are not welcome, eventually you don't share anything with them. A mother should not read the diary of a daughter in her late twenties. Yes, she has done things like that my whole life. She noses into what she wants to know, but yet, when asked why she stayed friends with a man who raped me repeatedly, her response is that it was too uncomfortable to end the relationship. My comfort has never been a concern. My whole life has never been about my comfort. Even Christmas, after I had kids we were all still forced to give my mother the Christmas she never had. I forgave her, but I do not have to accept her in my life, especially without her changing her behavior.
It was in this moment of realizing that she was in that hospital that I had to force myself to stay calm for my kids and for my own health. It reminded me of years ago in treatment, when I was asked to describe my relationship with my parents. I don't remember what I said about my dad, but I do remember how I described my mother. Imagine a bus full of young children out of control and heading for a cliff. Somehow I figure out how to get my pick up between the bus and the cliff and the children are all saved, yet I am now in a full body cast. Mother would come to the hospital furious, "I do not have time for this." Who cares the kids were saved. Who cares all my bones are broken? Her schedule is much more important. Now is the time I don't have to put her first. I'm sure she will be on the phone calling those who will listen and telling them how badly she has it, that her daughter had a stroke or to those close enough how badly I treated her. I decided in that moment to forgive her one more time and forget her. I have to focus on me. The reason I include this in my story is because I have talked with so many abused women who feel the same way. There are many abused men and women who can forgive the abuser, but to accept that a mother doesn't protect is much more difficult. Even the most ugly vicious animals protect their young.
One of the first days in the hospital my spiritual mom, my authority, prayed for me and looked me in the eyes and said, "You are not responsible to keep everyone happy. You take care of you." That became clearer every day. I had so many visitors and friends that I slept each night content to know that I was not alone. All those people I hoped meant it when they said they loved me, convinced me a little more that they really did. If nothing else came from the stroke, I found out I have true friends/family.
The two greatest commandments are to love God and to love your neighbor as you love yourself. I wonder if God put it that way so that those who put themselves above others would understand how they needed to love others. And those who put others above themselves understood how they need to love themselves. This was a time for me to love myself. This was not going to be easy. Loving yourself is saying what you need and saying what you don't want, no matter what others say or do. I needed peace. I needed peace and rest for me and my kids, especially my pregnant daughter. We prayed trauma off that baby almost every day.
There are miracle healings that happen in an instant and many times I have wondered why many healings don't happen that way. Yet as I walked through each day of healing from this stroke, He is teaching me so much about me and more importantly about Him. One thing I learned is when I put a broken persons wants before my own needs, it is pride. I am putting others opinions of me before God's opinion of me.
I realized through the stroke, how many needy people I had in my life. The more broken you are the more your thoughts revolve around you. Everyone's actions somehow are about you, directed at you, because of you ... at least in your own mind. As you get healing and the wounds of your heart are addressed, your thoughts and concerns become more about others, and yet, others do not rule your life. So many try to push us to think of others first, but when wounds are not addressed and pain is not healed it is impossible to think of anyone but yourself for any length of time. The saddest part of all of this is that your behavior reflects the age of the wound. The only way to grow, to move past the wound is to submit, invite Jesus to do whatever He knows has to be done to heal you, no matter the pain or discomfort. If you can't trust Him to do that, you will continue through life as a wounded child needing what you can't get from anyone but Him.
I have to put myself first. My health depended on it. I never feared not healing. I knew God was there, even though He seemed to be talking to me through others more than talking to me directly. That was okay. That moment when you think you might die, things become very clear. It hit me the second day in the hospital, after the MRI, but before the stroke diagnosis. What if I die? I grabbed a friend and made him promise he would bring in the pastor, the one who had one time kept me alive, yet now we could not seem to speak to each other without fighting. I had to clean up my side of the street with him. That was it? That was the only thing that crossed my mind. My kids know they are my world. My grandkids are the only competition they have. I tell my friends how I feel about them, so they know. Those who are still stuck in the "Me" stage will only bring drama and forget me in no time, because they only see themselves. I have no regrets. I have lived my life as a broken person, trying to please everyone so they will love me and I no longer choose to do that. No person will control my actions unless they are under 5 years old and I am getting paid by the hour to be with them.
The rest of my life is about Jesus and me. To be healthy and to have healthy relationships is my priority. I will no longer play drama games. I will no longer put others before God.
“Because introverts are typically good listeners and, at least, have the appearance of calmness, we are attractive to emotionally needy people. Introverts, gratified that other people are initiating with them, can easily get caught in these exhausting and unsatisfying relationships.”
― Adam S. McHugh
Monday, February 1, 2016
Death Comes in all Shapes and Sizes
Mercy is God's refusal to join us in the identity sin would give us. - Tom Sterbens
My friend "B" was told he would have 7 weeks of treatment for his cancer. I asked the Lord where He wanted me in this picture. Totally available. Take care of him. So, I told "B" I would be there to drive him every day. Mondays were Chemo day. Hours of sitting in a room with several stations where people at various stages of their battle with death would spend the day reading, people watching, knitting, or the lucky ones, visiting with a friend or family member. I would text station numbers to friends for prayer for those who grabbed my heart and forced me to do something, anything I could do to help. I am so fascinated by the humans fight to live. I could sit in a cancer center all day and watch the process. It's the same reason I love to watch prison, war, slavery, etc movies. Of course in this real life situation, I can't help but fall apart on the drive home.
Monday through Friday for 1/2 hour "B" faces radiation. He has a special mask they built for him, that covers his face. Because the weight falls off of him daily, they have to manufacture a new one periodically. Usually on these days I wait in the car, read scripture and pray. "B" came back to the car one day with pictures of him on this suspended type table, wearing his mask with machinery from a horror movie all around him. I never was one for sci-fy, and this was too close.
My time with "B" every morning will always be special. We even talked about how we didn't need to talk. We could ride in silence and find comfort in each others presence. But as I watched him get thinner, and his anger turn to tears, the wall I had always kept up was beginning to fail me. I was realizing I had to face my own fear.
Five weeks into treatment and two weeks to go, we celebrated the best we could with a hot mocha at our favorite coffee stop, but what joy we had dug up quickly faded when he looked at me with tears and said, "I can't taste this at all. I can't enjoy it." We both knew that was probably our last coffee stop until... or maybe ever. "B" was accepting that his taste buds were gone for good. I refused. God is bigger than taste buds. I had taken "B" to the Healing Rooms for prayer and I believe he will be completely restored. He said the sinners prayer and I remind Jesus almost daily.
It was Halloween. A friend and I felt led to go out and pray. The Lord had us take some food, some quarters, warm socks and money. It was a Saturday so we went wherever He sent us. Mostly it was to churches and we would bless them. We would pull up in the parking lot and ask the Holy Spirit to touch the prayer team, the worship team, the pulpit and the congregation. We didn't battle, we only blessed. We read scripture the Lord gave us and watched for anything He wanted to show us. At one church we watched a man dressed as a shepherd walk in with a woman dressed as a witch. We felt the Lord was showing us something about that church and spent a little more time praying there. At the end of the night we met a man named Dave on the street. Dave had stage four cancer and was homeless. We fed him, gave him dry socks, quarters, and a little cash. Mostly, we prayed for him. He had issues with his mother and he cried hard. It was difficult to leave him. We felt good about our day and evening and headed home.
the next day, November first, a Sunday, I went for a walk with a friend I live with. We walked about a mile down our gravel road and turned around. After visiting for a short time, I jumped in the car to run errands. On that gravel road, on my way out, a branch had fallen across the road in the time it took me to get in my car and leave the house. It was just big enough that I had to stop and move it, instead of drive over it. I text my friend, exaggerating "We could have been crushed". He said, "But we weren't thank you Jesus." I continued toward town trying to decide which order I would make the four stops I needed to make. I had been trying for several months to stop smoking. I would go days and weeks without and then anger would usually drive me to the store. I had bought a pack in the days before and on this Sunday afternoon on my way to town I lit one up. I know God. I am supposed to stop, but You have to help me. He was about to.
As I was approaching a narrow bridge, something didn't feel right. For some reason I glanced down at the clock and it was 4:44. At one time that meant to me Hell afterlife. I began to pray and actually put out the cigarette I had barely lit. My first thought was spiritual attack, but then an invisible wave blew over me from left to right and I found it difficult to sit up. I knew I had to get the car off the road. The ditches were deep and I was not feeling in control. I parked across the end of a driveway, unsure if I was even off the road. Because I had text my friend I knew he was near his phone and I called him, not sure I would be conscience for long. I can't even explain the feeling of dizziness. It took everything I had to sit up. My body kept twisting to the left. As my friend answered, I knew I had minimal time to talk so I told him exactly where I was and to come now. I then called another friend and told her, "Pray "G", pray." was all I could say. I put the phone on speaker and dropped it. I rolled down both windows because it was so hot in my car and the sweat was running down my face and back. I finally shut off the engine so I could take my feet off the pedals. Then the vomiting started. I opened my door as little as possible, afraid I would fall out onto the roadway and as I vomited a severe pain behind my ear almost crippled me. I could hear two of my friends, who I would later realize were three, praying as my phone lay on the passenger seat. I started screaming for God over and over. I felt nothing, I heard nothing, I saw nothing, so I started screaming for Jesus, but He didn't answer either. Then my friend called and said he had been held up and it would be 5 more minutes. I calmly told him, "I won't live that long" and switched back to the prayer team.
I knew that I was going to die. I knew I was on my own. My prayer warriors were asking where I was, what's going on, can I come there, but I couldn't communicate anything. I saw a tow truck come out of a driveway right before the bridge and it was the closest thing to an emergency vehicle that was available and I went to wave my arms, but they wouldn't move. In fact, no part of my body was cooperating at that time. I had somehow twisted in my seat and as my body faced the door, my face was pressed against the back of the seat. Why was nobody stopping? Why was the homeowner not coming out to see why I was blocking his driveway? Why was I not hearing God's voice? If ever there was a moment where an audible word from God was appropriate, I sure felt like that was it.
God speaks to me differently than others, I have been told. As I sat there, I thought about the deer that hit me on this road. Months later at the same point in the road, a possum ran into the side of my car and only weeks before this day, I had a head on collision with a white wolf. Old Highway 99, He leaves the 99 to find the one. What does all this mean? I woke to hear my friends voice. There was another man there too. I would find out I had parked across the driveway of a retired paramedic. He was walking my friend through things to do. It was difficult to stay awake once I knew the ambulance was on it's way. I didn't want to stay in the valley. I wanted to go to the hospital 20 minutes away in the next county, but that was not an option. They decided I had vertigo, gave me a shot and within a mile I was out.
I woke in a room in the ER. I was in and out, noticing different things each time. I had two friends there, one praying over me constantly and the other, I could hear her voice but never saw her. My daughters were both there, one armed with a bible. I was in a total state of confusion as to what was going on. It was actually after 2 am when I could talk a little and every one had left but my oldest daughter. Apparently they were going with the EMT's diagnosis of vertigo, but I felt it was more than that.
All day Monday people were in and out. My girls were there constantly and I knew it was difficult for them with the grandkids and schedules. I had friends come in and pray, doctors, nurses, etc. The word was this is vertigo and you will go home soon. It didn't feel right. One of the physical therapists pulled my daughter aside and insisted that she insist on an MRI. My daughters and my friends were fighting the battle for me. I, in all my dysfunction, was busy reassuring everyone that everything would be fine. It was after 5 before they took me for the MRI and the night went quickly. The next morning they talked about whether they would discharge me that afternoon or the next morning. Something wasn't right and my kids were not happy. They were recording the doctor every time he updated.
My youngest was in the room with me when the doctor came in that Tuesday afternoon. She was 7 months pregnant and not comfortable at all. He sat in a chair and said, "We have to talk'" Just then my mom (spiritual mother) walked in and quickly backed out, but I stopped her. No, come in. I need you to hear this. I wasn't sure why, but I think it was about keeping my feet on the ground. She came in and sat next to my daughter.
Then the doctor said it, BAM. You have had a stroke. What a relief. I knew there was more and now we knew and knew what to do. Just then I saw my daughters face completely red and covered with tears. It's okay. We have an answer and now we know. I thank God Mom was there to comfort and pray for my little girl. She was distraught and I was relieved. I was relieved until later. Um God? Have I done something? It was a brief moment of panic. Has He left me. 444 on the clock. Death afterlife? Have I done something? The only person I knew who had a stroke was my grandpa and he had several and died when I was 6. I felt I stood at a fork in the road. I decided I was not going to complain. I was going to walk through this like a real believer should with confidence and faith. I would minister every chance I got. Yes, that is what I will do.
Each friend I called choked up. What in the hell is the matter with these so called believers??? Have they no faith? I need SOMEBODY to have some faith here!! God's not talking and His back up is weeping. This isn't like the testimonies I have heard. This is not kingdom walking. This is earthly crawling. Am I going to have to hold these people together? Sing to me Jesus. And He gives me this song!
My friend "B" was told he would have 7 weeks of treatment for his cancer. I asked the Lord where He wanted me in this picture. Totally available. Take care of him. So, I told "B" I would be there to drive him every day. Mondays were Chemo day. Hours of sitting in a room with several stations where people at various stages of their battle with death would spend the day reading, people watching, knitting, or the lucky ones, visiting with a friend or family member. I would text station numbers to friends for prayer for those who grabbed my heart and forced me to do something, anything I could do to help. I am so fascinated by the humans fight to live. I could sit in a cancer center all day and watch the process. It's the same reason I love to watch prison, war, slavery, etc movies. Of course in this real life situation, I can't help but fall apart on the drive home.
Monday through Friday for 1/2 hour "B" faces radiation. He has a special mask they built for him, that covers his face. Because the weight falls off of him daily, they have to manufacture a new one periodically. Usually on these days I wait in the car, read scripture and pray. "B" came back to the car one day with pictures of him on this suspended type table, wearing his mask with machinery from a horror movie all around him. I never was one for sci-fy, and this was too close.
My time with "B" every morning will always be special. We even talked about how we didn't need to talk. We could ride in silence and find comfort in each others presence. But as I watched him get thinner, and his anger turn to tears, the wall I had always kept up was beginning to fail me. I was realizing I had to face my own fear.
Five weeks into treatment and two weeks to go, we celebrated the best we could with a hot mocha at our favorite coffee stop, but what joy we had dug up quickly faded when he looked at me with tears and said, "I can't taste this at all. I can't enjoy it." We both knew that was probably our last coffee stop until... or maybe ever. "B" was accepting that his taste buds were gone for good. I refused. God is bigger than taste buds. I had taken "B" to the Healing Rooms for prayer and I believe he will be completely restored. He said the sinners prayer and I remind Jesus almost daily.
It was Halloween. A friend and I felt led to go out and pray. The Lord had us take some food, some quarters, warm socks and money. It was a Saturday so we went wherever He sent us. Mostly it was to churches and we would bless them. We would pull up in the parking lot and ask the Holy Spirit to touch the prayer team, the worship team, the pulpit and the congregation. We didn't battle, we only blessed. We read scripture the Lord gave us and watched for anything He wanted to show us. At one church we watched a man dressed as a shepherd walk in with a woman dressed as a witch. We felt the Lord was showing us something about that church and spent a little more time praying there. At the end of the night we met a man named Dave on the street. Dave had stage four cancer and was homeless. We fed him, gave him dry socks, quarters, and a little cash. Mostly, we prayed for him. He had issues with his mother and he cried hard. It was difficult to leave him. We felt good about our day and evening and headed home.
the next day, November first, a Sunday, I went for a walk with a friend I live with. We walked about a mile down our gravel road and turned around. After visiting for a short time, I jumped in the car to run errands. On that gravel road, on my way out, a branch had fallen across the road in the time it took me to get in my car and leave the house. It was just big enough that I had to stop and move it, instead of drive over it. I text my friend, exaggerating "We could have been crushed". He said, "But we weren't thank you Jesus." I continued toward town trying to decide which order I would make the four stops I needed to make. I had been trying for several months to stop smoking. I would go days and weeks without and then anger would usually drive me to the store. I had bought a pack in the days before and on this Sunday afternoon on my way to town I lit one up. I know God. I am supposed to stop, but You have to help me. He was about to.
As I was approaching a narrow bridge, something didn't feel right. For some reason I glanced down at the clock and it was 4:44. At one time that meant to me Hell afterlife. I began to pray and actually put out the cigarette I had barely lit. My first thought was spiritual attack, but then an invisible wave blew over me from left to right and I found it difficult to sit up. I knew I had to get the car off the road. The ditches were deep and I was not feeling in control. I parked across the end of a driveway, unsure if I was even off the road. Because I had text my friend I knew he was near his phone and I called him, not sure I would be conscience for long. I can't even explain the feeling of dizziness. It took everything I had to sit up. My body kept twisting to the left. As my friend answered, I knew I had minimal time to talk so I told him exactly where I was and to come now. I then called another friend and told her, "Pray "G", pray." was all I could say. I put the phone on speaker and dropped it. I rolled down both windows because it was so hot in my car and the sweat was running down my face and back. I finally shut off the engine so I could take my feet off the pedals. Then the vomiting started. I opened my door as little as possible, afraid I would fall out onto the roadway and as I vomited a severe pain behind my ear almost crippled me. I could hear two of my friends, who I would later realize were three, praying as my phone lay on the passenger seat. I started screaming for God over and over. I felt nothing, I heard nothing, I saw nothing, so I started screaming for Jesus, but He didn't answer either. Then my friend called and said he had been held up and it would be 5 more minutes. I calmly told him, "I won't live that long" and switched back to the prayer team.
I knew that I was going to die. I knew I was on my own. My prayer warriors were asking where I was, what's going on, can I come there, but I couldn't communicate anything. I saw a tow truck come out of a driveway right before the bridge and it was the closest thing to an emergency vehicle that was available and I went to wave my arms, but they wouldn't move. In fact, no part of my body was cooperating at that time. I had somehow twisted in my seat and as my body faced the door, my face was pressed against the back of the seat. Why was nobody stopping? Why was the homeowner not coming out to see why I was blocking his driveway? Why was I not hearing God's voice? If ever there was a moment where an audible word from God was appropriate, I sure felt like that was it.
God speaks to me differently than others, I have been told. As I sat there, I thought about the deer that hit me on this road. Months later at the same point in the road, a possum ran into the side of my car and only weeks before this day, I had a head on collision with a white wolf. Old Highway 99, He leaves the 99 to find the one. What does all this mean? I woke to hear my friends voice. There was another man there too. I would find out I had parked across the driveway of a retired paramedic. He was walking my friend through things to do. It was difficult to stay awake once I knew the ambulance was on it's way. I didn't want to stay in the valley. I wanted to go to the hospital 20 minutes away in the next county, but that was not an option. They decided I had vertigo, gave me a shot and within a mile I was out.
I woke in a room in the ER. I was in and out, noticing different things each time. I had two friends there, one praying over me constantly and the other, I could hear her voice but never saw her. My daughters were both there, one armed with a bible. I was in a total state of confusion as to what was going on. It was actually after 2 am when I could talk a little and every one had left but my oldest daughter. Apparently they were going with the EMT's diagnosis of vertigo, but I felt it was more than that.
All day Monday people were in and out. My girls were there constantly and I knew it was difficult for them with the grandkids and schedules. I had friends come in and pray, doctors, nurses, etc. The word was this is vertigo and you will go home soon. It didn't feel right. One of the physical therapists pulled my daughter aside and insisted that she insist on an MRI. My daughters and my friends were fighting the battle for me. I, in all my dysfunction, was busy reassuring everyone that everything would be fine. It was after 5 before they took me for the MRI and the night went quickly. The next morning they talked about whether they would discharge me that afternoon or the next morning. Something wasn't right and my kids were not happy. They were recording the doctor every time he updated.
My youngest was in the room with me when the doctor came in that Tuesday afternoon. She was 7 months pregnant and not comfortable at all. He sat in a chair and said, "We have to talk'" Just then my mom (spiritual mother) walked in and quickly backed out, but I stopped her. No, come in. I need you to hear this. I wasn't sure why, but I think it was about keeping my feet on the ground. She came in and sat next to my daughter.
Then the doctor said it, BAM. You have had a stroke. What a relief. I knew there was more and now we knew and knew what to do. Just then I saw my daughters face completely red and covered with tears. It's okay. We have an answer and now we know. I thank God Mom was there to comfort and pray for my little girl. She was distraught and I was relieved. I was relieved until later. Um God? Have I done something? It was a brief moment of panic. Has He left me. 444 on the clock. Death afterlife? Have I done something? The only person I knew who had a stroke was my grandpa and he had several and died when I was 6. I felt I stood at a fork in the road. I decided I was not going to complain. I was going to walk through this like a real believer should with confidence and faith. I would minister every chance I got. Yes, that is what I will do.
Each friend I called choked up. What in the hell is the matter with these so called believers??? Have they no faith? I need SOMEBODY to have some faith here!! God's not talking and His back up is weeping. This isn't like the testimonies I have heard. This is not kingdom walking. This is earthly crawling. Am I going to have to hold these people together? Sing to me Jesus. And He gives me this song!
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Back to the Beginning
Unforgiveness is making a god out of something or someone else, other than God. Unforgiveness effectively renders the cross of Christ of no effect and God's power in our life of no effect. When you make a god out of a transgression or a transgressor, it's idolatry. - Tom Sterbens
It has been exactly five months since I wrote here. My brain is so full, I can't sort my thoughts, so I asked Jesus, "Just give me a word to get me started?" "Delible" Honestly, I don't know if I have ever heard this word. Was that you God? I look it up and I laugh, "Capable of being deleted". That's God. Just write, it doesn't matter what, because any or all of it can be deleted.
In these last months there have been crazy times with Jesus, but two particular scenes come to mind because they have happened, the most often. One I am standing off to the side and behind Him. I am tugging at His sleeve, because I have questions. My brain is so full only He can sort this mess out. Hey, hey God, hello? then He turns around to see me there. He is wearing a huge, very patient smile, "Yes, Kayleen?" Then it happens, I can't form words with my mouth, or even in my head. Nothing comes out. All I can do is stare. He turns away and soon I am tugging at that sleeve again, no closer to forming a question, yet somehow finding at least some comfort in knowing that He continues to turn and inquire every time I tug.
The other scene is less about being overwhelmed and more about pain. In this scene He is huge and I am about eye level with his knee. He sits on that huge throne as I stand next to His bare foot, arms crossed and my back turned to Him. He has invited me to sit on His lap, but I have refused. This time the comfort comes in His bumping against me with his foot. Though I act like it doesn't affect me, it actually draws out a deeper desire to crawl up into that lap and disappear.
There have been many other moments, like screaming His name and when He didn't answer to God, I screamed Jesus. When I still didn't feel any relief I went back to screaming God. That story later, because right now I feel the need to balance this with the times He just sat next to me and the picture of me in the womb when Jesus moved in to become the amniotic sac around me. The day I looked in the mirror and said, I don't even recognize me in the mirror and He said, You don't recognize yourself in my eyes either." We have been to hell and back a few times over the last five months and I am about to break it down. Somehow I believe that through each of the next few writings I will find answers I have been searching for my whole life. I have looked everywhere, from bottles to men, from working to writing and the only time I felt like I was getting somewhere was the two times I went back to the womb. This fight started there in the womb, when only Satan and God knew I existed.
The pain inside informs us, it misinforms us of our worth. - Tom Sterbens
It has been exactly five months since I wrote here. My brain is so full, I can't sort my thoughts, so I asked Jesus, "Just give me a word to get me started?" "Delible" Honestly, I don't know if I have ever heard this word. Was that you God? I look it up and I laugh, "Capable of being deleted". That's God. Just write, it doesn't matter what, because any or all of it can be deleted.
In these last months there have been crazy times with Jesus, but two particular scenes come to mind because they have happened, the most often. One I am standing off to the side and behind Him. I am tugging at His sleeve, because I have questions. My brain is so full only He can sort this mess out. Hey, hey God, hello? then He turns around to see me there. He is wearing a huge, very patient smile, "Yes, Kayleen?" Then it happens, I can't form words with my mouth, or even in my head. Nothing comes out. All I can do is stare. He turns away and soon I am tugging at that sleeve again, no closer to forming a question, yet somehow finding at least some comfort in knowing that He continues to turn and inquire every time I tug.
The other scene is less about being overwhelmed and more about pain. In this scene He is huge and I am about eye level with his knee. He sits on that huge throne as I stand next to His bare foot, arms crossed and my back turned to Him. He has invited me to sit on His lap, but I have refused. This time the comfort comes in His bumping against me with his foot. Though I act like it doesn't affect me, it actually draws out a deeper desire to crawl up into that lap and disappear.
There have been many other moments, like screaming His name and when He didn't answer to God, I screamed Jesus. When I still didn't feel any relief I went back to screaming God. That story later, because right now I feel the need to balance this with the times He just sat next to me and the picture of me in the womb when Jesus moved in to become the amniotic sac around me. The day I looked in the mirror and said, I don't even recognize me in the mirror and He said, You don't recognize yourself in my eyes either." We have been to hell and back a few times over the last five months and I am about to break it down. Somehow I believe that through each of the next few writings I will find answers I have been searching for my whole life. I have looked everywhere, from bottles to men, from working to writing and the only time I felt like I was getting somewhere was the two times I went back to the womb. This fight started there in the womb, when only Satan and God knew I existed.
The pain inside informs us, it misinforms us of our worth. - Tom Sterbens
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