The Bible tells us to renew our minds daily. Romans 12:2 says, "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." (NIV). A renewed mind enables us to live according to God's truths, rather than in the warped and twisted unreality of our unregenerate minds. His truth literally transforms how we perceive ourselves, others, and the world.
If I don't spend time with God daily and allow Him to fill my head with His thoughts, then what I believe and think becomes subject to the whims of my biochemistry, the other aspects of my flesh, and the devil. What's more, my unresolved wounds become a filter through which I translate (and misinterpret) the words and actions of others.
Case in point- about six weeks ago, while at some hot springs in Costa Rica with friends, I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in my bathing suit, while walking past a mirror.
Whoa! Dismay filled me at the realization that the slender supermodel figure that Lyme disease had blessed me with (go figure that disease can make you look like a model) was gone.
Although some of the weight gain might have been good for me, it was nonetheless a shock to see myself nearly twenty pounds heavier than what I was less than two years ago. I don't make it a habit to study myself in a bathing suit, so the realization that I was well on my way to becoming a chunky monkey (apparently) threw a wrench in my otherwise happy day.
As I stopped before the mirror again, I wondered, Am I just not used to seeing myself as a normal-sized person?
I felt the voice of Truth nudging my conscience. Come on, Connie, let's be objective about this... It went. But the unregenerate mind would have none of it. Insecurity was the order of the day.
So I approached a male friend who happened to be with me at the hot springs, and asked him the dreaded question that no man hopes a woman will ever ask him.
"Am I fat?"
I picked on him because I knew he would tell me the truth. But as I asked the question, I sensed his discomfort as he shifted in his seat next to me. We were plopped down on a bench beneath a beautiful waterfall.
"No, but...you've put on some weight." Was the candid reply.
Alarm bells went off in my mind as my heart picked up speed. "Well, am I pudgy?"
My poor friend. He didn't stand a chance at winning this game. As he squirmed in his seat, silent, I could have imagined what he was thinking- Should he gamble his friendship with his silly, vain friend, in the interest of telling her the truth?
No woman should ever ask a man the fat question. Ever.
But I did. Again. "Well, am I pudgy?"
He looked down. "Um, well, sure, a little."
We all know what the translation is for this, right?
I'm a cow!
Thus ensued a tirade in which I began to bemoan my clumps of cellulite and emerging Buddha belly. How unfair it was that I had put on so much weight, because I subsisted on salads and salmon and exercised- so how dare God allow this to happen to me? And what if my rolls were just getting on a roll? What if this was just the beginning?
Somewhere in the middle of my pity party, my friend looked at me quizzically and said, "What's pudgy mean?"
I stopped the tirade in its tracks. "WHAT?" I said to him, miffed. "You just told me I'm pudgy and you don't even know what it means?"
As I continued to flip out next to my friend beneath the waterfall, he muttered something about needing a drink.
Poor thing. I should have shown him to the nearest bar. Or at least taken my insecurities elsewhere.
"Look, you're not fat, OK? You've put on some weight, but you look good." He finally said.
But my unregenerate mind refused to swallow the truth. Not after he had told me that I was pudgy! (Never mind that he didn't really know what it meant). In that moment, all I could focus on was the fact that I had gained twenty pounds.
Never mind that by most people's standards, I am now an average weight. Never mind that my value and worth shouldn't be in my physical beauty, anyway. I had grown accustomed to the admiration of others. I was used to turning heads and seeing myself skinny as a rail. I didn't like having a real woman's body. Never mind that people still tell me that I am beautiful.
I might have received my friend's words through the lens of truth had I asked God to tell me His truth after looking in the mirror. Or maybe I wouldn't have even asked my friend the fat question. But because I did, I put us both through unnecessary grief. Besides, even if I had been overweight, what would have been the point of asking my friend the fat question? Why did I want to ruin our trip to the hot springs?
Yes, I would still rather be ten pounds lighter. But I'm not twenty-five years old anymore. Besides, in hindsight, I realized that the real question that I was asking-what most women are asking- when they approach a man (especially a close friend, boyfriend or spouse) with the fat question, is, Am I lovable just as I am?
And if the question were posed to God, the answer would be an emphatic, enthusiastic Yes! - Whether we are 120 or 240 pounds.
Living according to the unregenerate mind causes us to mistranslate others' words and actions- just as I did my friend's when I posed the "fat" question to him- and believe lies about ourselves and how God and others see us. And I have found that the only way to rise above the tactics of the enemy and the flesh is by asking God for His mind when my flesh wants to throw a twisted thoughts party.
All I can say is, thank God for the grace and love of my good friend, who forgave me for the fat question. And for Jesus, who has called me- and all of us- His beautiful, fearfully and wonderfully made, sons and daughters. May His opinion be the only one that counts, when we are tempted to lose the truth in the translation of our unregenerate minds.
My Walk With God...
Monday, April 23, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Knowing The Power of His Death and Resurrection...
It's been a rough week. But I guess this was a rough week for Jesus, too, 2012 years ago. To put it mildly.
Night terrors, sleep apnea, and relentless insomnia are making a soup of my brain and body. My chest aches, and I push myself to prepare another cup of coffee, in the hopes that I might manage three hours of writing today. I'm weeks behind on my work deadlines.
But I guess that's beside the point. On this sacred day, instead of awakening and bowing my head in reverence and gratitude to my Savior, for giving up His life for me on a Cross 2012 years ago, I emerged from bed with curses on my lips, foul language and accusations against my God. The enemy took advantage of my sleep deprivation to cast me into a litany of lies and melodramatic pleas to God to heal me or take me out of this world.
What demon has taken over my mind today, on this Good Friday? What part of me doesn't understand what Jesus purchased for me at Calvary, and the power that He has given me to overcome?
Opposing thoughts rage in my biochemically-imbalanced brain. It seems God has allowed an army of ten thousand demons to come against me, but where is He as their arrows fly fast and furious towards me? In my delusion, I accuse Him of just standing by and watching, as the arrows penetrate my heart. He waits for me to do something that I decide I cannot do, because the battle against my flesh is too strong.
"Take my thoughts captive, God?" I rail at Him. "You try that when you haven't slept for the better part of five months!" In self-righteousness I build a case against my Lord- as if that should convince Him to pull back Satan's army. As if my begging will move Him to shift a little pinky in my favor.
Yet, in exalting the flesh against the power of His Spirit, and by accusing Him of withholding His love and healing from me, I'm like the mockers who spit on Him when He died 2012 years ago on a Cross at Calvary. But instead of clamoring, "Save yourself, if you are the King of the Jews!" my angry words are, "Jesus, heal me, if you love me so much!" Even as, with tears rolling down His face, and his body hanging limply on a Cross, He softly replies, "I am."
And so it is. I turn up my nose at the lashing of His body, and I spit on the nails in His hands. I turn my back on His anguish and the tears that roll down His face. I shrug my shoulders in indifference, as He cries out to the Father, "Why have you forsaken me?" Figuratively, I do all of this when I treat His sacrifice as if it purchased nothing for me but a free ticket into Eternity.
He has all power to heal me now. But He has also given me all power to be healed by the Holy Spirit, who dwells within me because of His death and resurrection.
He who lives within me was not free. The gift of the Spirit came at the expense of a body and soul that were torn asunder by the world's sin. He came to live in me, and in all who would believe in Jesus' sacrifice. Without His death on the Cross, I-we, would have no power to overcome the devil and the flesh.
It cost me nothing to receive the power of Immanuel- or, "God within me(us)," but it cost God everything. It cost Jesus His life. And yet I exalt the devil and His work above that of my Savior when I curse and accuse.
I mock His sacrifice when I accuse Him of not helping me. He helped me 2012 years ago when He died and was resurrected on the third day. I mock Him when I beg Him to heal me, because that healing was already given, way back when...
I feel His tears today as I shed my own, as He longs for me to understand, for my sake and others, what it cost Him to give me the power to be set free and to have life Eternal with Him.
But, like so many others, I am deceived into thinking that what is real is what I feel, and experience. I am reticent to believe that He within me can overcome a mind and body that have been sickened by a thousand and one sleepless nights; that He whom I cannot see isn't greater than the effects of this world upon my body; that though I am outnumbered in my battle against the flesh, I only need One of Him to overcome the multitudes that rage against me.
The depression remains. But He who remains in me admonishes me to overcome. Because one day I will truly get it- and when I do, no shadow of disease or insomnia will be able to stand within six million miles of me.
Forgive me, Jesus, for what I don't understand. Forgive me for standing among the crowds that forsook you, spit on you, and mocked you. Forgive me for my irreverence and lack of gratitude. I will never know how much it cost You, to take my sins upon You, on that Cross. I will never know, this side of Heaven, the immense and amazing price you paid for me, so that I might have life, here and in the Hereafter. But yes, I know...you don't condemn me for my cursing and accusations. If you did, then Your work would have been for naught.
Thank You, Jesus, for your great mercy and love towards me. Thank You, for dying for all of humanity, 2012 years ago, that we might be freed from all manner of sickness, soul wounds and the power of sin. Teach us that You gave up Your life, not only so that we might live with you in Eternity, but so that we might bring Heaven to Earth today, and every day. May we know that Your authority has been given to us because of Your work on the Cross, and that we all have power to destroy the works of the devil, to set captives free, and to open the eyes of the blind...
Open my eyes, Lord, that I may see, and be healed. Open my heart, that I would daily hold sacred your sacrifice, and not take for granted all that was given to me, 2012 years ago...and today. Amen.
Night terrors, sleep apnea, and relentless insomnia are making a soup of my brain and body. My chest aches, and I push myself to prepare another cup of coffee, in the hopes that I might manage three hours of writing today. I'm weeks behind on my work deadlines.
But I guess that's beside the point. On this sacred day, instead of awakening and bowing my head in reverence and gratitude to my Savior, for giving up His life for me on a Cross 2012 years ago, I emerged from bed with curses on my lips, foul language and accusations against my God. The enemy took advantage of my sleep deprivation to cast me into a litany of lies and melodramatic pleas to God to heal me or take me out of this world.
What demon has taken over my mind today, on this Good Friday? What part of me doesn't understand what Jesus purchased for me at Calvary, and the power that He has given me to overcome?
Opposing thoughts rage in my biochemically-imbalanced brain. It seems God has allowed an army of ten thousand demons to come against me, but where is He as their arrows fly fast and furious towards me? In my delusion, I accuse Him of just standing by and watching, as the arrows penetrate my heart. He waits for me to do something that I decide I cannot do, because the battle against my flesh is too strong.
"Take my thoughts captive, God?" I rail at Him. "You try that when you haven't slept for the better part of five months!" In self-righteousness I build a case against my Lord- as if that should convince Him to pull back Satan's army. As if my begging will move Him to shift a little pinky in my favor.
Yet, in exalting the flesh against the power of His Spirit, and by accusing Him of withholding His love and healing from me, I'm like the mockers who spit on Him when He died 2012 years ago on a Cross at Calvary. But instead of clamoring, "Save yourself, if you are the King of the Jews!" my angry words are, "Jesus, heal me, if you love me so much!" Even as, with tears rolling down His face, and his body hanging limply on a Cross, He softly replies, "I am."
And so it is. I turn up my nose at the lashing of His body, and I spit on the nails in His hands. I turn my back on His anguish and the tears that roll down His face. I shrug my shoulders in indifference, as He cries out to the Father, "Why have you forsaken me?" Figuratively, I do all of this when I treat His sacrifice as if it purchased nothing for me but a free ticket into Eternity.
He has all power to heal me now. But He has also given me all power to be healed by the Holy Spirit, who dwells within me because of His death and resurrection.
He who lives within me was not free. The gift of the Spirit came at the expense of a body and soul that were torn asunder by the world's sin. He came to live in me, and in all who would believe in Jesus' sacrifice. Without His death on the Cross, I-we, would have no power to overcome the devil and the flesh.
It cost me nothing to receive the power of Immanuel- or, "God within me(us)," but it cost God everything. It cost Jesus His life. And yet I exalt the devil and His work above that of my Savior when I curse and accuse.
I mock His sacrifice when I accuse Him of not helping me. He helped me 2012 years ago when He died and was resurrected on the third day. I mock Him when I beg Him to heal me, because that healing was already given, way back when...
I feel His tears today as I shed my own, as He longs for me to understand, for my sake and others, what it cost Him to give me the power to be set free and to have life Eternal with Him.
But, like so many others, I am deceived into thinking that what is real is what I feel, and experience. I am reticent to believe that He within me can overcome a mind and body that have been sickened by a thousand and one sleepless nights; that He whom I cannot see isn't greater than the effects of this world upon my body; that though I am outnumbered in my battle against the flesh, I only need One of Him to overcome the multitudes that rage against me.
The depression remains. But He who remains in me admonishes me to overcome. Because one day I will truly get it- and when I do, no shadow of disease or insomnia will be able to stand within six million miles of me.
Forgive me, Jesus, for what I don't understand. Forgive me for standing among the crowds that forsook you, spit on you, and mocked you. Forgive me for my irreverence and lack of gratitude. I will never know how much it cost You, to take my sins upon You, on that Cross. I will never know, this side of Heaven, the immense and amazing price you paid for me, so that I might have life, here and in the Hereafter. But yes, I know...you don't condemn me for my cursing and accusations. If you did, then Your work would have been for naught.
Thank You, Jesus, for your great mercy and love towards me. Thank You, for dying for all of humanity, 2012 years ago, that we might be freed from all manner of sickness, soul wounds and the power of sin. Teach us that You gave up Your life, not only so that we might live with you in Eternity, but so that we might bring Heaven to Earth today, and every day. May we know that Your authority has been given to us because of Your work on the Cross, and that we all have power to destroy the works of the devil, to set captives free, and to open the eyes of the blind...
Open my eyes, Lord, that I may see, and be healed. Open my heart, that I would daily hold sacred your sacrifice, and not take for granted all that was given to me, 2012 years ago...and today. Amen.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
The Way It Was Meant To Be
With the exception of two meetings, I spent the entirety of this past week in bed, trying to coax bananas and rice cakes into my stomach. I can't recall the last time I missed an entire week of work due to the flu, but amidst the depression and misery, I also experienced a paradoxical feeling of rest. I knew I could do nothing- because even an hour at the computer left me in a miserable stupor- so I relaxed in the sudden lack of obligations, happy to ignore the ever-present checklist of life's "to-do's."
I rarely give myself permission to ignore the checklist, because as long as I can sit upright, I assume there's work to be done, and if I don't do it, then my budget for even bananas and rice crackers will be gone. I don't care if I'm tired or my back hurts or my body decides to undergo a detoxification reaction; every day, I must work. And like every other single person in America who must not only bring home their bacon, but also cook it, too, I have a home to clean and groceries to buy, along with other obligations that leave me wondering when friends and fun will also get to be part of my existence.
Furhter complicating matters are my health challenges, which force me to ration my energy and life's activities, so managing all of the above sometimes thrusts me into survival mode, as I daily strategize how to do all of the "to do's" without massively stressing my body.
The strategizing has been a way of life for me. It's a product of reason and the system under which our society has been taught to operate. But it's also a product of the hardships I have faced growing up, and has been exacerbated by the financial difficulties that have resulted from not being able to work a full-time job for seven years. While the challenges have also caused me to depend more deeply upon God, knowing that He is providing for me is a battle whenever I stray from His presence. So at times, I push myself- to do what I'm not sure He expects me to do, but which I do, because common sense tells me people have to work if they want to eat.
God doesn't live within the confines of what we call common sense, but I'm not willing to bet I can rest on my laurels until my body feels like working, and still live in the beautiful condominium that God has provided for me.
But I'm digressing here. This past week, I gave myself permission to rest fully, when a thousand new work projects clamored for my attention. But I did so only because I had no other choice. And then I asked myself why I allowed myself to clear the "to do" list only because I was too sick to stomach anything but bananas and rice?
That ain't right.
Strategizing instead of surrendering in the Lord is one problem, but the other is that I sometimes don't have a healthy concept of what God expects of me. My workaholic tendencies leave me not knowing when I'm engaging in the addiction, and when I just need to push myself a little to put some bread on the table.
I don't work ten, or twelve, hours per day. I can't. My body decided a long time ago it wouldn't put up with that garbage anymore. When I worked for United Airlines, I sometimes put in 14-hour duty days, but when the marathon days started to become a regular occurrence, my body protested with symptoms, as if to say, "I'm not doing this anymore."
So now, I might write (my principal job) for only four to six hours a day, but those hours stretch across an entire day when I combine them with the other stuff on my "to do" list. And before I know it, the day is filled with obligations and there's little leftover for recreation or relationships- the stuff of which life is meant to be about, just as much as work.
Yet I am thankful. God has miraculously provided for all of my needs, and continues to provide. Writing is difficult, draining work, but at least I don't have to get up at 6 AM, fight traffic and put on make-up and a suit in the morning. I couldn't do it, anyway.
Fortunately, whenever I spend time in God's presence, He enables me to move out of survival mode and shun the false expectations- both of which beset me whenever I buy into the lie that I don't have time for Him or for other people, because there's just too much on the "to-do" list.
But I usually need an hour or two alone with my Lord and Savior- every day- in order to know who He is for me and that I will be provided for, broken body or not. And whenever I lie down, and ask Him for truth and peace- or for whatever it is that He knows I need- I find my strategies disintegrating and my striving abating. The answers to the "to do" list simply come, or the means to do becomes more evident, or I receive His peace about the problems for which I don't yet have solutions.
And during my time with Him, He often encourages me to do one more thing- to have a social life; something that has been denied me to some extent because I haven't felt well for so long, and am accustomed to making survival activities my priority. But surviving isn't living, and I'm slowly learning to believe that God will provide- even if I don't get enough work done because I decided to watch a movie or have dinner with a friend, instead.
Because it was for relationships that we were made, and the body doesn't heal well if the soul is lonely, sad or isolated. As others who read this blog will attest, suffering from symptoms of chronic illness can present a formidable challenge to being in relationships and being able to participate in social events with others. Yet real love transcends recreational companionship and needing friends who are always witty, happy and "with it," and survival and meaning in life come not only through our work, but through the relationships that we have with others.
When I reflect upon my "to do" list- not just my paid work, but my laundry, the dishes and the thousand and one errands that I have to do, I realize that it isn't just me or others with health problems who have too much to do. We live in a society where distractions and obligations abound and technology seems to increase the demands that are inadvertently thrust upon us. Everyone has fifteen email accounts, five thousand friends on Facebook and a million things to do besides.
Half of us live alone or are single parents, divorced or sick; - all of which increase the burden of life's responsibilities upon us, because, instead of sharing in life's duties by living in community with one another, we live alone and manage it all ourselves. Whether it's because we're single or simply like our personal space, the end result of being in such situations is often isolation, loneliness, shallow Internet relationships, and fatigue- the latter resulting from a larger "to do" list than we need to have.
I don't blame anyone for seeking companionship on the Internet. I do it at times, because I live and work alone, and on days when I'm not well enough to step outside my front door, Internet friendships help me to keep my sanity. And I love the people I have met on Facebook and in Lyme disease support groups- as far as I know them, of course. That said, a "friend" on Facebook once said to me, "You know, a lot of people really love you." (Meaning, those who read my books and blogs). I politely responded, "They don't know me. They admire me for my work and my insights, which is different."
While Internet friendships can provide a valuable source of companionship to those who are truly too sick to get out of the house, we all need face-to-face relationships with people, too. People who can hug us, squeeze our hands and smile; share meals with us, laugh with us over a comedy and share in life's responsibilities, and whose communication with us goes beyond the written word. But the Internet is replacing these types of face-to-face relationships with others. This, along with a mentality of independence- with which most of us have been raised-and the circumstances under which we live, foster a life of isolation, which I believe God never intended for His people.
I have traveled to over fifty nations in Africa, Asia, Europe and Latin America, and I have observed that the happiest societies seem to be those where interdependence is not only encouraged, but is also a necessity, and daily social time with family and friends is a priority, not an option. Many of us in the United States are lucky if we share a meal with another human being on a weekly, or even monthly, basis.
There are no easy solutions for the soul accustomed to a life of relative isolation. I'm still trying to find a way out of the quandary myself. But I want to experience the fullness of life that God has for me in relationship with other people, and that means taking and making social time as much of a priority as my so-called "survival activities." And only by spending time with God am I continually reminded, that it is for relationships that we were made. Because only by being with others do we truly survive- and live life to the fullest.
I rarely give myself permission to ignore the checklist, because as long as I can sit upright, I assume there's work to be done, and if I don't do it, then my budget for even bananas and rice crackers will be gone. I don't care if I'm tired or my back hurts or my body decides to undergo a detoxification reaction; every day, I must work. And like every other single person in America who must not only bring home their bacon, but also cook it, too, I have a home to clean and groceries to buy, along with other obligations that leave me wondering when friends and fun will also get to be part of my existence.
Furhter complicating matters are my health challenges, which force me to ration my energy and life's activities, so managing all of the above sometimes thrusts me into survival mode, as I daily strategize how to do all of the "to do's" without massively stressing my body.
The strategizing has been a way of life for me. It's a product of reason and the system under which our society has been taught to operate. But it's also a product of the hardships I have faced growing up, and has been exacerbated by the financial difficulties that have resulted from not being able to work a full-time job for seven years. While the challenges have also caused me to depend more deeply upon God, knowing that He is providing for me is a battle whenever I stray from His presence. So at times, I push myself- to do what I'm not sure He expects me to do, but which I do, because common sense tells me people have to work if they want to eat.
God doesn't live within the confines of what we call common sense, but I'm not willing to bet I can rest on my laurels until my body feels like working, and still live in the beautiful condominium that God has provided for me.
But I'm digressing here. This past week, I gave myself permission to rest fully, when a thousand new work projects clamored for my attention. But I did so only because I had no other choice. And then I asked myself why I allowed myself to clear the "to do" list only because I was too sick to stomach anything but bananas and rice?
That ain't right.
Strategizing instead of surrendering in the Lord is one problem, but the other is that I sometimes don't have a healthy concept of what God expects of me. My workaholic tendencies leave me not knowing when I'm engaging in the addiction, and when I just need to push myself a little to put some bread on the table.
I don't work ten, or twelve, hours per day. I can't. My body decided a long time ago it wouldn't put up with that garbage anymore. When I worked for United Airlines, I sometimes put in 14-hour duty days, but when the marathon days started to become a regular occurrence, my body protested with symptoms, as if to say, "I'm not doing this anymore."
So now, I might write (my principal job) for only four to six hours a day, but those hours stretch across an entire day when I combine them with the other stuff on my "to do" list. And before I know it, the day is filled with obligations and there's little leftover for recreation or relationships- the stuff of which life is meant to be about, just as much as work.
Yet I am thankful. God has miraculously provided for all of my needs, and continues to provide. Writing is difficult, draining work, but at least I don't have to get up at 6 AM, fight traffic and put on make-up and a suit in the morning. I couldn't do it, anyway.
Fortunately, whenever I spend time in God's presence, He enables me to move out of survival mode and shun the false expectations- both of which beset me whenever I buy into the lie that I don't have time for Him or for other people, because there's just too much on the "to-do" list.
But I usually need an hour or two alone with my Lord and Savior- every day- in order to know who He is for me and that I will be provided for, broken body or not. And whenever I lie down, and ask Him for truth and peace- or for whatever it is that He knows I need- I find my strategies disintegrating and my striving abating. The answers to the "to do" list simply come, or the means to do becomes more evident, or I receive His peace about the problems for which I don't yet have solutions.
And during my time with Him, He often encourages me to do one more thing- to have a social life; something that has been denied me to some extent because I haven't felt well for so long, and am accustomed to making survival activities my priority. But surviving isn't living, and I'm slowly learning to believe that God will provide- even if I don't get enough work done because I decided to watch a movie or have dinner with a friend, instead.
Because it was for relationships that we were made, and the body doesn't heal well if the soul is lonely, sad or isolated. As others who read this blog will attest, suffering from symptoms of chronic illness can present a formidable challenge to being in relationships and being able to participate in social events with others. Yet real love transcends recreational companionship and needing friends who are always witty, happy and "with it," and survival and meaning in life come not only through our work, but through the relationships that we have with others.
When I reflect upon my "to do" list- not just my paid work, but my laundry, the dishes and the thousand and one errands that I have to do, I realize that it isn't just me or others with health problems who have too much to do. We live in a society where distractions and obligations abound and technology seems to increase the demands that are inadvertently thrust upon us. Everyone has fifteen email accounts, five thousand friends on Facebook and a million things to do besides.
Half of us live alone or are single parents, divorced or sick; - all of which increase the burden of life's responsibilities upon us, because, instead of sharing in life's duties by living in community with one another, we live alone and manage it all ourselves. Whether it's because we're single or simply like our personal space, the end result of being in such situations is often isolation, loneliness, shallow Internet relationships, and fatigue- the latter resulting from a larger "to do" list than we need to have.
I don't blame anyone for seeking companionship on the Internet. I do it at times, because I live and work alone, and on days when I'm not well enough to step outside my front door, Internet friendships help me to keep my sanity. And I love the people I have met on Facebook and in Lyme disease support groups- as far as I know them, of course. That said, a "friend" on Facebook once said to me, "You know, a lot of people really love you." (Meaning, those who read my books and blogs). I politely responded, "They don't know me. They admire me for my work and my insights, which is different."
While Internet friendships can provide a valuable source of companionship to those who are truly too sick to get out of the house, we all need face-to-face relationships with people, too. People who can hug us, squeeze our hands and smile; share meals with us, laugh with us over a comedy and share in life's responsibilities, and whose communication with us goes beyond the written word. But the Internet is replacing these types of face-to-face relationships with others. This, along with a mentality of independence- with which most of us have been raised-and the circumstances under which we live, foster a life of isolation, which I believe God never intended for His people.
I have traveled to over fifty nations in Africa, Asia, Europe and Latin America, and I have observed that the happiest societies seem to be those where interdependence is not only encouraged, but is also a necessity, and daily social time with family and friends is a priority, not an option. Many of us in the United States are lucky if we share a meal with another human being on a weekly, or even monthly, basis.
There are no easy solutions for the soul accustomed to a life of relative isolation. I'm still trying to find a way out of the quandary myself. But I want to experience the fullness of life that God has for me in relationship with other people, and that means taking and making social time as much of a priority as my so-called "survival activities." And only by spending time with God am I continually reminded, that it is for relationships that we were made. Because only by being with others do we truly survive- and live life to the fullest.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Jewels From My Journal
God speaks to us in many ways. Through nature, events, circumstances, people, books, the Bible, impressions, dreams, visions, and our thoughts.
During my daily prayer time, I generally spend just as much time listening for God's voice as I do speaking to Him. Maybe it's because I'm a writer, but I hear God best through words, sentences and phrases that come to mind whenever I pray. Over the past few years, I have kept a journal of what He has told me through my conversations with Him. I believe that most of the words that are scrawled within this journal are His. I say "most" because my mind has biases and preferences, and my soul carries wounds- which sometimes get in the way of me hearing perfectly from God.
Still, whenever I reflect upon the pages of my journal, I am struck by certain phrases, which I know are from Him, because they are more insightful, optimistic, encouraging and wise than the normal ramble that races across my mind. And they are consistent with His Word and loving character.
Below I share some of the "jewels" of thought that God has given me over the past year, and which I have recorded in my journal during my private times with Him. I share these in the hopes that they will encourage you, too.
What God has said to me:
"When you don't believe I am good, come to Me and I will show you that I am good"
"Stop being practical and live from My promises, not out of your reason."
"Spend more time in the reality of Me than in the reality of what's happening in the world and in your physical body. This is the only way to peace."
"Your greatest struggle isn't poverty, isolation, or sickness. It's your lack of peace. I will teach you how to have peace in every situation, if you come to Me."
"I build trust through uncertain circumstances, not situations of ease."
"You don't have to seek Me, believe Me, or obey Me perfectly in order for My will to be fulfilled in you."
"I can use you, through your mistakes and though your heart's motives towards Me are imperfect."
"I am not the means to your end. I am the end that provides your means."
"If you take to heart the things I have told you about your identity in Me, you will start to see opportunities. It is not opportunities you need, but knowledge of your identity in Me and and who I am for you."
"When people are healed with medicine, there is no recognition that it was because of my Son's work. They may know I blessed the treatment, but it's not the same as understanding that my Son died on a Cross so that they could be (supernaturally) healed. That understanding only happens with miracles."
"Your (healing) testimony isn't going to be that a treatment protocol made you well. Neither you nor your doctors will receive that glory. Only I can heal you fully."
"Remember, every promise I have given you will be challenged by the enemy. When things become especially dark, that is because the dawn is coming."
"Thanking Me and praising Me tears away the veil of lies you believe (about yourself and others)."
"Belief isn't a feeling; it's a choice."
"You want a complicated answer, but the answer is simple: Spend time with Me. That is how you believe and receive. By knowing who I Am."
"Do more things that inspire you. This will teach you how to live out of your heart, not your mind."
"There is grace for your suffering, but at the same time, there are spiritual laws. Words create reality. You must understand this. But my Spirit indwells you and enables you to create the reality I have in mind for you."
"Look to me to help you. Do you want to be well? Then immerse yourself in Me, though it costs you everything."
"When you are suffering and in pain, invert reality. Speak the opposite of what you feel. Do the opposite of what you feel like doing, and great power will be released. All things are possible with my Spirit."
"You say you can't do what I ask of you, but don't forget, I am your helper, and I work in you to will and to do all things."
"Life feels like it's falling apart to you, but the truth is, you are being prepared and aligned. Stop exalting the enemy's attacks against you. Exalt My promises and what I have told you are my plans for you."
"Man's greatest challenge has always been to believe Me. The Bible is filled with such stories. But all things are possible if you have faith."
"Don't be content with 'crumbs' in your relationships- I have come that you may have life, and have it more abundantly."
"I know you are tired, and I grieve with you."
"The core of your pain is that you believe I have rejected you, and the pain has been reinforced by the circumstances of your life. You can't heal this. I must do it-and I will do it- in my time."
"My people believe everything they hear but what comes from my Word. They believe in recession and in the reports of disaster. But what about My report and My promises of abundance?"
"One day you will receive that flood of My presence that you are seeking. Until then, learn to experience me in the more subtle, day-to-day expressions of life."
"Trust, praise and thankfulness open a lot of doors."
"Continue to insist upon the power of your words, and you will see things change in your life. Even if you don't believe at first."
"I like it when you think of Me."
"I delight in spending time with you."
"You don't need to speak words of truth to convince me to bless you, but to convince you that I want to bless you."
"I am a God of detail. I like to know the details of your life. Even those which you consider to be insignificant."
"Rest. Be at peace. I am your provider."
"Don't invent quotas for spending time with Me. Let your time with Me be without compulsion."
"Seek Me with all your heart, that you may remain grounded in truth and forget every reminder of the enemy's work in your life."
"Dare to trust Me."
"Do you know what it's like to be friends with someone apart from what they can do for you? Strive for that kind of friendship with Me."
"Focus on what I have already done for you. It will open the door for you to receive more."
"I know the difficult position you are in, and I am coming to rescue you."
"Don't lie in your bed in the morning and meditate upon lies. Meditate upon my Word."
"You don't need a (physical) remedy. You need to declare the truth about who you are in Me. That you are loved, loveable and capable of giving love to others."
"I don't need you to heal yourself. I just need you to trust Me."
"Your latter years will be greater than your former years. I will restore every year that the locusts have stolen away."
"Meditate upon the fact that I died so that you could have the power that raised Jesus from the dead residing in you. And that this power (the Holy Spirit)enables you to do all things."
"I long for you to seek Me and spend time with Me just for the sake of being with Me. I enjoy being with you. I adore you. I delight in you."
During my daily prayer time, I generally spend just as much time listening for God's voice as I do speaking to Him. Maybe it's because I'm a writer, but I hear God best through words, sentences and phrases that come to mind whenever I pray. Over the past few years, I have kept a journal of what He has told me through my conversations with Him. I believe that most of the words that are scrawled within this journal are His. I say "most" because my mind has biases and preferences, and my soul carries wounds- which sometimes get in the way of me hearing perfectly from God.
Still, whenever I reflect upon the pages of my journal, I am struck by certain phrases, which I know are from Him, because they are more insightful, optimistic, encouraging and wise than the normal ramble that races across my mind. And they are consistent with His Word and loving character.
Below I share some of the "jewels" of thought that God has given me over the past year, and which I have recorded in my journal during my private times with Him. I share these in the hopes that they will encourage you, too.
What God has said to me:
"When you don't believe I am good, come to Me and I will show you that I am good"
"Stop being practical and live from My promises, not out of your reason."
"Spend more time in the reality of Me than in the reality of what's happening in the world and in your physical body. This is the only way to peace."
"Your greatest struggle isn't poverty, isolation, or sickness. It's your lack of peace. I will teach you how to have peace in every situation, if you come to Me."
"I build trust through uncertain circumstances, not situations of ease."
"You don't have to seek Me, believe Me, or obey Me perfectly in order for My will to be fulfilled in you."
"I can use you, through your mistakes and though your heart's motives towards Me are imperfect."
"I am not the means to your end. I am the end that provides your means."
"If you take to heart the things I have told you about your identity in Me, you will start to see opportunities. It is not opportunities you need, but knowledge of your identity in Me and and who I am for you."
"When people are healed with medicine, there is no recognition that it was because of my Son's work. They may know I blessed the treatment, but it's not the same as understanding that my Son died on a Cross so that they could be (supernaturally) healed. That understanding only happens with miracles."
"Your (healing) testimony isn't going to be that a treatment protocol made you well. Neither you nor your doctors will receive that glory. Only I can heal you fully."
"Remember, every promise I have given you will be challenged by the enemy. When things become especially dark, that is because the dawn is coming."
"Thanking Me and praising Me tears away the veil of lies you believe (about yourself and others)."
"Belief isn't a feeling; it's a choice."
"You want a complicated answer, but the answer is simple: Spend time with Me. That is how you believe and receive. By knowing who I Am."
"Do more things that inspire you. This will teach you how to live out of your heart, not your mind."
"There is grace for your suffering, but at the same time, there are spiritual laws. Words create reality. You must understand this. But my Spirit indwells you and enables you to create the reality I have in mind for you."
"Look to me to help you. Do you want to be well? Then immerse yourself in Me, though it costs you everything."
"When you are suffering and in pain, invert reality. Speak the opposite of what you feel. Do the opposite of what you feel like doing, and great power will be released. All things are possible with my Spirit."
"You say you can't do what I ask of you, but don't forget, I am your helper, and I work in you to will and to do all things."
"Life feels like it's falling apart to you, but the truth is, you are being prepared and aligned. Stop exalting the enemy's attacks against you. Exalt My promises and what I have told you are my plans for you."
"Man's greatest challenge has always been to believe Me. The Bible is filled with such stories. But all things are possible if you have faith."
"Don't be content with 'crumbs' in your relationships- I have come that you may have life, and have it more abundantly."
"I know you are tired, and I grieve with you."
"The core of your pain is that you believe I have rejected you, and the pain has been reinforced by the circumstances of your life. You can't heal this. I must do it-and I will do it- in my time."
"My people believe everything they hear but what comes from my Word. They believe in recession and in the reports of disaster. But what about My report and My promises of abundance?"
"One day you will receive that flood of My presence that you are seeking. Until then, learn to experience me in the more subtle, day-to-day expressions of life."
"Trust, praise and thankfulness open a lot of doors."
"Continue to insist upon the power of your words, and you will see things change in your life. Even if you don't believe at first."
"I like it when you think of Me."
"I delight in spending time with you."
"You don't need to speak words of truth to convince me to bless you, but to convince you that I want to bless you."
"I am a God of detail. I like to know the details of your life. Even those which you consider to be insignificant."
"Rest. Be at peace. I am your provider."
"Don't invent quotas for spending time with Me. Let your time with Me be without compulsion."
"Seek Me with all your heart, that you may remain grounded in truth and forget every reminder of the enemy's work in your life."
"Dare to trust Me."
"Do you know what it's like to be friends with someone apart from what they can do for you? Strive for that kind of friendship with Me."
"Focus on what I have already done for you. It will open the door for you to receive more."
"I know the difficult position you are in, and I am coming to rescue you."
"Don't lie in your bed in the morning and meditate upon lies. Meditate upon my Word."
"You don't need a (physical) remedy. You need to declare the truth about who you are in Me. That you are loved, loveable and capable of giving love to others."
"I don't need you to heal yourself. I just need you to trust Me."
"Your latter years will be greater than your former years. I will restore every year that the locusts have stolen away."
"Meditate upon the fact that I died so that you could have the power that raised Jesus from the dead residing in you. And that this power (the Holy Spirit)enables you to do all things."
"I long for you to seek Me and spend time with Me just for the sake of being with Me. I enjoy being with you. I adore you. I delight in you."
Monday, February 27, 2012
Discovering the Why and What of Our Desires and Gifts
When I was a young child, I once asked my mom out of the blue, "Mommy, where's South America?" I subsequently developed a fascination with the Amazon, Latin people and the Spanish language.
When I signed up for my first Spanish class at age 13, and before I knew a word of the language besides "Hola", I knew that I was going to love it and be good at speaking it. And I knew that one day I would travel to South America and that my heart would remain there.
How could I have known these things, never having experienced Latin America or known what it was like to speak Spanish? I believe it's because God birthed them into my heart.
The things that intrigue and fascinate us, as well as our natural gifts, are often clues to God's destiny for us, though we may not realize it when we first discover them. He didn't fit us with interests, passions and likes for nothing, though we may be tempted to think so, especially when He hasn't (apparently) used them much in our lives, or we believe that their use is solely for recreational purposes.
I studied Spanish throughout high school and college. Though I enjoyed it, it was also tedious to learn. For years, I didn't see the fruit of my labor, and until I graduated from college, Spanish was little more than a series of mental exercises for me. And as a Spanish major in college, I wondered how it would be useful in a career. At times, I have believed that I should have been more practical and studied engineering or marketing or something else that would have been (supposedly) more useful in the business world.
But over the past seventeen years, God has used my ability to speak Spanish and my love for Latin America in ways that have exceeded my wildest dreams.
For instance, I never imagined that by age 20, (and after having lived in Argentina as an exchange student for a year), I would speak Spanish with a fluency and accent that would confuse some into thinking that I had been raised in Latin America. I never would have guessed that by the time I was 30, I would have traveled to nearly every country south of Mexico, and lived for short periods of time in Venezuela and Costa Rica, in addition to Argentina.
Yet as precious as the gifts of travel and becoming fluent in another language have been for me, much more has come of the desire that God birthed in me to learn Spanish and become enamored with all things south of the border. Perhaps most important are the deep friendships that I have developed with Spanish speakers. Second to that are the eyes and ears that I now have to see how people of other cultures think, live and experience God. I have also developed more profound insights into my own culture, as I compare and contrast the society in which I live, to the different societies of Latin America.
I have also used Spanish in my work- as a medical interpreter, translator, Spanish instructor, flight attendant, and missionary. I have used it to communicate God's love to people in Guatemala, Colombia, Bolivia, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Cuba and beyond. Just yesterday, I used it to pray for a beggar on the street, who couldn't work due to severe back problems. As she wiped tears from her cheeks, I realized that God had healed her. When she confirmed this, and showed me how she could move parts of her body that she couldn't move before, I was, once again, thankful for my gift. I have used it to dispel myths about Americans to Latinos, and myths about Latinos to Americans. I have used it to create a bridge between my culture and that of others.
Travel for me these days is hard. I don't sleep well, and Latin America is really the last place that a sleepless soul who needs peace and quiet to rest, should be. As I write this from a balcony fronting the ocean on the Guanacaste peninsula of Costa Rica, I am reminded that the sleeplessness, along with other symptoms that I suffer from, aren't for forever. Because I think that God intends to my gifts for an even greater purpose, and this purpose can't be accomplished unless I am able to sleep and function in the places that I used to travel to- places more rustic and less comfortable than my friend's plush beach condominium in Costa Rica.
But just as, at the age of 13, I couldn't have guessed all that God would use my gifts and passions for, at the moment, I can't fathom the even greater ways in which He will use them, but I sense that He's just getting started with me.
How do I know for sure? I don't, but every time I am nudged to read a Mario Vargas Llosa novel, or pray over a beggar, I sense something bigger in the works beyond the activity at hand.
I share my experience to encourage those of you who have wondered if your passions are for a purpose; if your interests aren't just for your own enjoyment, and if God desires to do something great with the natural gifts and desires that He's given you.
God is glorified when we explore, express and use our natural gifts for His Kingdom. Sometimes, what seems like a useless talent or frivolous dream is really the seed of a majestic plant that God intends to grow and use to draw people to Him, although life sometimes has a way of squashing the seeds that God has planted within us. Yet if we ask Him to resurrect our dreams; to show us the what and why of our passions, and to develop that which He has placed within us, we will see those seeds bearing fruit that satisfies us in a way that goes beyond selfish pleasure, recreation or vain ambition. There is nothing wrong with pleasure, but sometimes, God desires to take something that gives us pleasure and use it for the good of others, too.
Recalling your childhood interests and fantasies, and exploring the pure, innocent passions of your youth, may help you to discover how God intends to use all that He has placed within your soul.
Knowing why and for what we were given talents and desires, helps to sustain us during times of trial or uncertainty and to have hope when life seems to offer none. Just as I didn't know at age 13 that God meant to use my love of Spanish and Latin America for so many purposes, so you may not know, until you ask Him, the entire reason for the talents and loves that He has placed within your heart. And if you have forgotten how to dream; if you can't remember what stirs your soul to life, and what awakens joy within you, ask God to resurrect those things, that you may once again, dare to dream with Him.
When I signed up for my first Spanish class at age 13, and before I knew a word of the language besides "Hola", I knew that I was going to love it and be good at speaking it. And I knew that one day I would travel to South America and that my heart would remain there.
How could I have known these things, never having experienced Latin America or known what it was like to speak Spanish? I believe it's because God birthed them into my heart.
The things that intrigue and fascinate us, as well as our natural gifts, are often clues to God's destiny for us, though we may not realize it when we first discover them. He didn't fit us with interests, passions and likes for nothing, though we may be tempted to think so, especially when He hasn't (apparently) used them much in our lives, or we believe that their use is solely for recreational purposes.
I studied Spanish throughout high school and college. Though I enjoyed it, it was also tedious to learn. For years, I didn't see the fruit of my labor, and until I graduated from college, Spanish was little more than a series of mental exercises for me. And as a Spanish major in college, I wondered how it would be useful in a career. At times, I have believed that I should have been more practical and studied engineering or marketing or something else that would have been (supposedly) more useful in the business world.
But over the past seventeen years, God has used my ability to speak Spanish and my love for Latin America in ways that have exceeded my wildest dreams.
For instance, I never imagined that by age 20, (and after having lived in Argentina as an exchange student for a year), I would speak Spanish with a fluency and accent that would confuse some into thinking that I had been raised in Latin America. I never would have guessed that by the time I was 30, I would have traveled to nearly every country south of Mexico, and lived for short periods of time in Venezuela and Costa Rica, in addition to Argentina.
Yet as precious as the gifts of travel and becoming fluent in another language have been for me, much more has come of the desire that God birthed in me to learn Spanish and become enamored with all things south of the border. Perhaps most important are the deep friendships that I have developed with Spanish speakers. Second to that are the eyes and ears that I now have to see how people of other cultures think, live and experience God. I have also developed more profound insights into my own culture, as I compare and contrast the society in which I live, to the different societies of Latin America.
I have also used Spanish in my work- as a medical interpreter, translator, Spanish instructor, flight attendant, and missionary. I have used it to communicate God's love to people in Guatemala, Colombia, Bolivia, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Cuba and beyond. Just yesterday, I used it to pray for a beggar on the street, who couldn't work due to severe back problems. As she wiped tears from her cheeks, I realized that God had healed her. When she confirmed this, and showed me how she could move parts of her body that she couldn't move before, I was, once again, thankful for my gift. I have used it to dispel myths about Americans to Latinos, and myths about Latinos to Americans. I have used it to create a bridge between my culture and that of others.
Travel for me these days is hard. I don't sleep well, and Latin America is really the last place that a sleepless soul who needs peace and quiet to rest, should be. As I write this from a balcony fronting the ocean on the Guanacaste peninsula of Costa Rica, I am reminded that the sleeplessness, along with other symptoms that I suffer from, aren't for forever. Because I think that God intends to my gifts for an even greater purpose, and this purpose can't be accomplished unless I am able to sleep and function in the places that I used to travel to- places more rustic and less comfortable than my friend's plush beach condominium in Costa Rica.
But just as, at the age of 13, I couldn't have guessed all that God would use my gifts and passions for, at the moment, I can't fathom the even greater ways in which He will use them, but I sense that He's just getting started with me.
How do I know for sure? I don't, but every time I am nudged to read a Mario Vargas Llosa novel, or pray over a beggar, I sense something bigger in the works beyond the activity at hand.
I share my experience to encourage those of you who have wondered if your passions are for a purpose; if your interests aren't just for your own enjoyment, and if God desires to do something great with the natural gifts and desires that He's given you.
God is glorified when we explore, express and use our natural gifts for His Kingdom. Sometimes, what seems like a useless talent or frivolous dream is really the seed of a majestic plant that God intends to grow and use to draw people to Him, although life sometimes has a way of squashing the seeds that God has planted within us. Yet if we ask Him to resurrect our dreams; to show us the what and why of our passions, and to develop that which He has placed within us, we will see those seeds bearing fruit that satisfies us in a way that goes beyond selfish pleasure, recreation or vain ambition. There is nothing wrong with pleasure, but sometimes, God desires to take something that gives us pleasure and use it for the good of others, too.
Recalling your childhood interests and fantasies, and exploring the pure, innocent passions of your youth, may help you to discover how God intends to use all that He has placed within your soul.
Knowing why and for what we were given talents and desires, helps to sustain us during times of trial or uncertainty and to have hope when life seems to offer none. Just as I didn't know at age 13 that God meant to use my love of Spanish and Latin America for so many purposes, so you may not know, until you ask Him, the entire reason for the talents and loves that He has placed within your heart. And if you have forgotten how to dream; if you can't remember what stirs your soul to life, and what awakens joy within you, ask God to resurrect those things, that you may once again, dare to dream with Him.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Choosing Redemption
Lately, God has been revealing to me some ugly truths about my consecration-or lack thereof-to Him. As His light shines upon the dark spaces in my soul, I realize how much of my relationship with Him has been based upon my need for Him, rather than my love for Him. I see how much of my ministry has been based upon selfish motives, and how the cocktail of my thoughts is more often a bitter brew than a sweet Spirit-filled punch. And He's been showing me how these bitter thoughts stem from unresolved anger that I harbor towards Him- anger which began in my childhood and which has subtly choked my relationship with Him over the years.
Roots of bitterness aren't easily yanked from soil that has been rained on, packed down and fertilized by a lifetime of trials, so I don't think God is disappointed that I can't just rip the suckers out with my hands. The traumas I have endured have been severe, and my need for grace has been infinite. Yet I had hoped that after a decade of following Him wholeheartedly, my love for Him would be deeper, and my consecration to Him, greater.
If I ever thought that being in full-time ministry was my calling, I discarded the idea a couple of weeks ago. Well, sort of. I simply decided that I couldn't be used by God in my current condition and that my soul was too shredded to ever come to a truly profound knowledge of His love for me. I'm a walking bag of loveless, irritable bones these days. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Maybe it's the pain in my hip and back. Or maybe I'm using these problems as excuses to feed those bitter roots of disappointment in God. In any case, God would never use such a person in high levels of ministry, lest the sharks of pride or something worse eat me alive.
Or have I simply been believing a fantastic lie about my usefulness to God and my ability to receive from Him? In any case, the enemy threw some well-harvested salt into the wound created by this belief at a Christian conference this weekend.
I preface this story by saying that God's love towards us and our love for Him can't always be measured by our feelings. Feelings are subject to our biochemistry, and faith has nothing to do with our neurotransmitters, hormones or other chemicals that affect our mood and thoughts.
So when the Holy Spirit touches people, especially at charismatic and Pentecostal healing conferences, and His presence manifests in us as feelings of joy, tears of release, and other warm fuzzy expressions, such feelings shouldn't be used as the barometer by which we measure the quality of our relationship with God.
But everyone still wants a warm fuzzy from God, because fuzzies touch our emotions and help us to feel reassured that He loves us.
So when I was literally (or so it seemed) the only conference attendee this weekend who didn't receive a powerful physical or emotional manifestation of God's presence in my inner being, the enemy vanquished Truth from my mind and said to me, See? You can't even receive God's love.
Normally, my thoughts don't descend into such a dark pit simply because I fail to fall to the ground under the power of God's Spirit, or I don't sense His presence when a well-anointed minister comes and imparts the Spirit to me. But I have never witnessed such a powerful anointing upon one of God's ministers as that which I saw this weekend, and yet never felt so strongly like I was the only one who couldn't be a part of what God was doing.
Shirley Strand was the minister, and as she prophesied and extended her hand to impart God's Spirit to each one of the forty-some women who came to the altar to receive from God, I watched many of them fall to the ground, with shouts of joy, tears of laughter, and other obvious physical manifestations of God's presence.
Usually, in these type of services, not everyone exhibits visible evidence of having been touched by God, but this time, nearly everyone that I saw, did. It was amazing. Every time I looked up to see what God was doing...Bam! Someone was falling down under the power of the Holy Spirit.
But when Shirley prayed over me, I felt nothing. As tears welled in my eyes, I looked at her and said, "I can't receive from God."
She prayed over me once again and still, I felt nothing. She ordered me to sit down, and as I watched her continue to minister over other people, grief filled my chest. Instead of comforting me, God seemed to be confirming my earlier suspicions that I was beyond being touched by Him...beyond redemption, beyond ever sensing His love in the way that I so desperately needed to.
Beyond ever being used greatly in ministry.
But the next thing I knew, Shirley was standing in front of me again. She said to me, "Okay, get up. You're going to come minister with me."
I forced a smile, though I'm sure my expression screamed devastation. If it wasn't, my soul certainly was, but nobody seemed to notice as Shirley took my arm and raised it to the people still awaiting a touch from God. As my hand touched their faces, they collapsed backwards, releasing peals of laughter and shrieks of joy as they went. Some simply fell, struck by the power of God flowing through my hand as Shirley moved me from one person to another. Granted, it was her anointing, not mine, touching the people. I was simply her puppet, but I didn't understand in that grief-stricken moment that God was doing something with me besides trying to get me to smile.
My grief intensified as the women fell. Everyone in the room seemed to be receiving a touch from God--that is, everyone but me- the instrument that ironically, He was using to drop the people to the ground like sacks of potatoes.
Maybe Shirley just wanted to cheer me up, I thought. After all, it was her anointing that was touching the people, not mine. Anyway, I was too bitter to be used by God in that moment...or was I?
The message became clearer when one of the women who had organized the conference came over to me and prophesied over me. She said, "You are a healing minister. I saw it all over you the second you walked through the door (of the church)."
She then told me she thought that it was no accident that Shirley had asked me to stand and minister to the people, because she thought that God was calling me to do the work of an evangelist, too.
It's not the first time I have heard it, or the second, or the third. We are all called to pray for the healing of one another, but as the conference concluded, I realized that God was yet calling me to a position of higher authority in ministry. He still believed that I could be healed of my wounds, and when that happened, it would unfold into the fulfillment of an amazing promise.
I didn't receive a touch from the Holy Spirit as I had hoped this weekend, but as I left the conference, I realized that God had yet reached out to me- knowing, perhaps, that using my hand in ministry and receiving words of prophecy were the only ways that I would be able to sense His love, and receive the knowledge that He yet intended to do great things with my life, despite what I believed about myself. I could have chosen to ignore the signs, and the message. I could have said to myself, "Shirley just asked me to minister with her because she felt sorry for me. The prophet called me a healing minister-but aren't we all?"
As I drove home, I realized that how I decided to view the situation meant the difference between growing my bitter roots towards God or taking another step towards uprooting them.
As difficult as it was to choose, I finally decided that God using my hand in ministry was meant to be a foreshadowing of the fulfillment of one of His great promises in my life. The prophecy was meant to confirm that He intends to use me in an even greater capacity as a healing minister, and that He yet thinks I'm divine material for that purpose. That my lack of consecration, irritability and intermittent bitterness are no hindrance to the fulfillment of His promises for my life- if I keep seeking to be healed from them. But like a surgeon who removes infection with a scalpel or a knife, God must first bring my infection into the light, before He begins the painful work of cutting it out, so that I may eventually be healed.
The choice I made at the conference to believe that I am one of God's sheep, instead of a stubborn little mule who is too broken to receive anything from Him, wasn't just for yesterday. As the daily stresses of life press upon me and symptoms continue to poke at my happiness, I realize that I must continue to choose to see His love and promises through the grind of my day-to-day existence, instead of focusing upon difficult circumstances that blind me to His Truths.
The devil is always looking to slap a blindfold across our eyes and tell us that we aren't really chosen, loved or created by God for great things. He would have us believe that we are more screwed up than any other; that our messes make it impossible for us to receive from God or be used by Him. That lie has never hit me so forcefully as it did this past weekend.
But then God reminded me that the darkest hour in our lives is sometimes just before the dawn. Though I yet long for God to descend upon me with flurries of warm fuzzies, I realize that to see the dawn, I must stop expecting Him to love me my way, and instead allow Him to love me His way. And I must know that He doesn't give up on me, even when I give up on me. Only then, will I perceive His gestures of love towards me in the darkness.
May we know in our heart of hearts that we are not beyond redemption. May we know that there is no soul on this earth that the power of Jesus Christ can't touch, and no wound that He can't heal. May we know that our circumstances and emotions are no reflection of His love towards us, and that when we are tempted to see them as such, we must look to the Cross and know that we are loved, simply because of what He did for us there.
Roots of bitterness aren't easily yanked from soil that has been rained on, packed down and fertilized by a lifetime of trials, so I don't think God is disappointed that I can't just rip the suckers out with my hands. The traumas I have endured have been severe, and my need for grace has been infinite. Yet I had hoped that after a decade of following Him wholeheartedly, my love for Him would be deeper, and my consecration to Him, greater.
If I ever thought that being in full-time ministry was my calling, I discarded the idea a couple of weeks ago. Well, sort of. I simply decided that I couldn't be used by God in my current condition and that my soul was too shredded to ever come to a truly profound knowledge of His love for me. I'm a walking bag of loveless, irritable bones these days. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Maybe it's the pain in my hip and back. Or maybe I'm using these problems as excuses to feed those bitter roots of disappointment in God. In any case, God would never use such a person in high levels of ministry, lest the sharks of pride or something worse eat me alive.
Or have I simply been believing a fantastic lie about my usefulness to God and my ability to receive from Him? In any case, the enemy threw some well-harvested salt into the wound created by this belief at a Christian conference this weekend.
I preface this story by saying that God's love towards us and our love for Him can't always be measured by our feelings. Feelings are subject to our biochemistry, and faith has nothing to do with our neurotransmitters, hormones or other chemicals that affect our mood and thoughts.
So when the Holy Spirit touches people, especially at charismatic and Pentecostal healing conferences, and His presence manifests in us as feelings of joy, tears of release, and other warm fuzzy expressions, such feelings shouldn't be used as the barometer by which we measure the quality of our relationship with God.
But everyone still wants a warm fuzzy from God, because fuzzies touch our emotions and help us to feel reassured that He loves us.
So when I was literally (or so it seemed) the only conference attendee this weekend who didn't receive a powerful physical or emotional manifestation of God's presence in my inner being, the enemy vanquished Truth from my mind and said to me, See? You can't even receive God's love.
Normally, my thoughts don't descend into such a dark pit simply because I fail to fall to the ground under the power of God's Spirit, or I don't sense His presence when a well-anointed minister comes and imparts the Spirit to me. But I have never witnessed such a powerful anointing upon one of God's ministers as that which I saw this weekend, and yet never felt so strongly like I was the only one who couldn't be a part of what God was doing.
Shirley Strand was the minister, and as she prophesied and extended her hand to impart God's Spirit to each one of the forty-some women who came to the altar to receive from God, I watched many of them fall to the ground, with shouts of joy, tears of laughter, and other obvious physical manifestations of God's presence.
Usually, in these type of services, not everyone exhibits visible evidence of having been touched by God, but this time, nearly everyone that I saw, did. It was amazing. Every time I looked up to see what God was doing...Bam! Someone was falling down under the power of the Holy Spirit.
But when Shirley prayed over me, I felt nothing. As tears welled in my eyes, I looked at her and said, "I can't receive from God."
She prayed over me once again and still, I felt nothing. She ordered me to sit down, and as I watched her continue to minister over other people, grief filled my chest. Instead of comforting me, God seemed to be confirming my earlier suspicions that I was beyond being touched by Him...beyond redemption, beyond ever sensing His love in the way that I so desperately needed to.
Beyond ever being used greatly in ministry.
But the next thing I knew, Shirley was standing in front of me again. She said to me, "Okay, get up. You're going to come minister with me."
I forced a smile, though I'm sure my expression screamed devastation. If it wasn't, my soul certainly was, but nobody seemed to notice as Shirley took my arm and raised it to the people still awaiting a touch from God. As my hand touched their faces, they collapsed backwards, releasing peals of laughter and shrieks of joy as they went. Some simply fell, struck by the power of God flowing through my hand as Shirley moved me from one person to another. Granted, it was her anointing, not mine, touching the people. I was simply her puppet, but I didn't understand in that grief-stricken moment that God was doing something with me besides trying to get me to smile.
My grief intensified as the women fell. Everyone in the room seemed to be receiving a touch from God--that is, everyone but me- the instrument that ironically, He was using to drop the people to the ground like sacks of potatoes.
Maybe Shirley just wanted to cheer me up, I thought. After all, it was her anointing that was touching the people, not mine. Anyway, I was too bitter to be used by God in that moment...or was I?
The message became clearer when one of the women who had organized the conference came over to me and prophesied over me. She said, "You are a healing minister. I saw it all over you the second you walked through the door (of the church)."
She then told me she thought that it was no accident that Shirley had asked me to stand and minister to the people, because she thought that God was calling me to do the work of an evangelist, too.
It's not the first time I have heard it, or the second, or the third. We are all called to pray for the healing of one another, but as the conference concluded, I realized that God was yet calling me to a position of higher authority in ministry. He still believed that I could be healed of my wounds, and when that happened, it would unfold into the fulfillment of an amazing promise.
I didn't receive a touch from the Holy Spirit as I had hoped this weekend, but as I left the conference, I realized that God had yet reached out to me- knowing, perhaps, that using my hand in ministry and receiving words of prophecy were the only ways that I would be able to sense His love, and receive the knowledge that He yet intended to do great things with my life, despite what I believed about myself. I could have chosen to ignore the signs, and the message. I could have said to myself, "Shirley just asked me to minister with her because she felt sorry for me. The prophet called me a healing minister-but aren't we all?"
As I drove home, I realized that how I decided to view the situation meant the difference between growing my bitter roots towards God or taking another step towards uprooting them.
As difficult as it was to choose, I finally decided that God using my hand in ministry was meant to be a foreshadowing of the fulfillment of one of His great promises in my life. The prophecy was meant to confirm that He intends to use me in an even greater capacity as a healing minister, and that He yet thinks I'm divine material for that purpose. That my lack of consecration, irritability and intermittent bitterness are no hindrance to the fulfillment of His promises for my life- if I keep seeking to be healed from them. But like a surgeon who removes infection with a scalpel or a knife, God must first bring my infection into the light, before He begins the painful work of cutting it out, so that I may eventually be healed.
The choice I made at the conference to believe that I am one of God's sheep, instead of a stubborn little mule who is too broken to receive anything from Him, wasn't just for yesterday. As the daily stresses of life press upon me and symptoms continue to poke at my happiness, I realize that I must continue to choose to see His love and promises through the grind of my day-to-day existence, instead of focusing upon difficult circumstances that blind me to His Truths.
The devil is always looking to slap a blindfold across our eyes and tell us that we aren't really chosen, loved or created by God for great things. He would have us believe that we are more screwed up than any other; that our messes make it impossible for us to receive from God or be used by Him. That lie has never hit me so forcefully as it did this past weekend.
But then God reminded me that the darkest hour in our lives is sometimes just before the dawn. Though I yet long for God to descend upon me with flurries of warm fuzzies, I realize that to see the dawn, I must stop expecting Him to love me my way, and instead allow Him to love me His way. And I must know that He doesn't give up on me, even when I give up on me. Only then, will I perceive His gestures of love towards me in the darkness.
May we know in our heart of hearts that we are not beyond redemption. May we know that there is no soul on this earth that the power of Jesus Christ can't touch, and no wound that He can't heal. May we know that our circumstances and emotions are no reflection of His love towards us, and that when we are tempted to see them as such, we must look to the Cross and know that we are loved, simply because of what He did for us there.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Satiating The Need For Solutions
It is human nature to find security in solutions. If we know what job we are supposed to hold; which relationships to pursue; what health remedies to take...if we feel confident in the strategies and opportunities presented to us, we feel safe.
Personally, I'm always in pursuit of something. I'm inquisitive but my need for answers sometimes stems from fear. What looks like logic, common sense, healthy pondering or seeking...is really fear. Fear masks itself as many things. One of its more subtle manifestations is in the fierce pursuit of solutions, whether or not God is involved in the chase.
God has made us curious beings. He has designed us to be seekers of knowledge. But as respected evangelist Leif Hetland said in a meeting at my church last week, "We are a society with much knowledge, but little wisdom." (my paraphrase).
And I wonder if our insatiable desire for knowledge is sometimes a sneaky counterfeit for security in the Lord. Knowledge leads to solutions... which leads to feelings of safety...or so we think.
I have been researching medicine for nearly a decade now, yet the more I learn, the more I realize that I know very little about how to heal the body. Medical knowledge is, in some ways, like a drug to me. Every new discovery infuses me with an emotional high at the promise of what it will bring- to the health of my body and that of others. But when that knowledge doesn't fulfill its illusory promise to heal me or thousands of others, disappointment deluges my soul.
The same can be said for any type of knowledge that we pursue. While sometimes useful, valid, important and intriguing- when we lean on knowledge instead of the One who gives all knowledge, we get into trouble.
This is because pursuing solutions for the sake of security blinds us to the right information that God would have us use for the furtherance of His Kingdom, our well being, and that of others. It also puts our hope in the wrong place- in our intellect, or in God's resources, instead of in Him.
Knowledge is important, but wisdom is better. Wisdom teaches us what to do with what we know, how to apply it, and how to submit it to God's will. Wisdom admonishes us to use knowledge as a tool, not a security blanket, and keeps our hope centered in the proper place-upon Him.
Wisdom enables us to take comfort in the apparent absence of solutions; in the scarcity of immediate answers and knowledge which we believe will get us to where we need to go.
In my life, wisdom admonishes me to trust when I don't know how to cure my insomnia. It teaches me how to sift the valuable medical knowledge that I gather from the chaff, and it shows me how to rest, when God isn't flashing neon signs across my conscience.
Living without solutions- or when the only solution is to be content to have none- is difficult. Yet it is also freeing, because it can teach us to rely upon and submit to God, knowing that the answers will come when, and if, we need them. Often, what we think we need to know, we would be better off without. Society clutters our minds with news, facts, theories, trends, and advertisements that aren't of God, but which we strive to sort from the stuff that God gives us.
I wonder what would happen, for example, if every person in the United States closed their eyes to any text but the Bible for a week? If we agreed to disregard all that we know- "except for Christ Jesus and Him crucified" (1 Cor. 2:2)? Rather than sentence us to a narrow-minded existence, I believe it would open our eyes and ears to gold mines of knowledge- the likes of which we really need.
I confess, as of late, I have been led astray because my faith, and security, has been in solutions. I have believed that my survival depends upon having the right answers, not the right Counselor, who, while silent at times, desires so deeply to provide for me, even when my mind and soul are blank.
Our desperate searching for solutions will not cease unless we choose to trust God with what we don't know- and what we do. Sometimes, I think He allows all solutions to be snatched away from us for a time, for our own good. So that we may learn to rest and have peace in Him, rather than in the need for answers. May He be the only answer we need.
Personally, I'm always in pursuit of something. I'm inquisitive but my need for answers sometimes stems from fear. What looks like logic, common sense, healthy pondering or seeking...is really fear. Fear masks itself as many things. One of its more subtle manifestations is in the fierce pursuit of solutions, whether or not God is involved in the chase.
God has made us curious beings. He has designed us to be seekers of knowledge. But as respected evangelist Leif Hetland said in a meeting at my church last week, "We are a society with much knowledge, but little wisdom." (my paraphrase).
And I wonder if our insatiable desire for knowledge is sometimes a sneaky counterfeit for security in the Lord. Knowledge leads to solutions... which leads to feelings of safety...or so we think.
I have been researching medicine for nearly a decade now, yet the more I learn, the more I realize that I know very little about how to heal the body. Medical knowledge is, in some ways, like a drug to me. Every new discovery infuses me with an emotional high at the promise of what it will bring- to the health of my body and that of others. But when that knowledge doesn't fulfill its illusory promise to heal me or thousands of others, disappointment deluges my soul.
The same can be said for any type of knowledge that we pursue. While sometimes useful, valid, important and intriguing- when we lean on knowledge instead of the One who gives all knowledge, we get into trouble.
This is because pursuing solutions for the sake of security blinds us to the right information that God would have us use for the furtherance of His Kingdom, our well being, and that of others. It also puts our hope in the wrong place- in our intellect, or in God's resources, instead of in Him.
Knowledge is important, but wisdom is better. Wisdom teaches us what to do with what we know, how to apply it, and how to submit it to God's will. Wisdom admonishes us to use knowledge as a tool, not a security blanket, and keeps our hope centered in the proper place-upon Him.
Wisdom enables us to take comfort in the apparent absence of solutions; in the scarcity of immediate answers and knowledge which we believe will get us to where we need to go.
In my life, wisdom admonishes me to trust when I don't know how to cure my insomnia. It teaches me how to sift the valuable medical knowledge that I gather from the chaff, and it shows me how to rest, when God isn't flashing neon signs across my conscience.
Living without solutions- or when the only solution is to be content to have none- is difficult. Yet it is also freeing, because it can teach us to rely upon and submit to God, knowing that the answers will come when, and if, we need them. Often, what we think we need to know, we would be better off without. Society clutters our minds with news, facts, theories, trends, and advertisements that aren't of God, but which we strive to sort from the stuff that God gives us.
I wonder what would happen, for example, if every person in the United States closed their eyes to any text but the Bible for a week? If we agreed to disregard all that we know- "except for Christ Jesus and Him crucified" (1 Cor. 2:2)? Rather than sentence us to a narrow-minded existence, I believe it would open our eyes and ears to gold mines of knowledge- the likes of which we really need.
I confess, as of late, I have been led astray because my faith, and security, has been in solutions. I have believed that my survival depends upon having the right answers, not the right Counselor, who, while silent at times, desires so deeply to provide for me, even when my mind and soul are blank.
Our desperate searching for solutions will not cease unless we choose to trust God with what we don't know- and what we do. Sometimes, I think He allows all solutions to be snatched away from us for a time, for our own good. So that we may learn to rest and have peace in Him, rather than in the need for answers. May He be the only answer we need.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)