Here I sit, ten days away from the new year, wondering where the past seven weeks have gone. A storm that rolled into my life towards the end of October has not yet ceased in its fury. It has crashed upon my health but deeply impacted other areas of my life, too. And it has distracted me from posting to this blog as much as I would like.
God must have something good for me in 2012, because the trials have been so absurd and profound that even those who don't believe in demons would have to concede that this unrelenting hell is a bit out of the ordinary, even for those who deal with the hardships of chronic illness on a daily basis.
So I'm trying to look on the bright side, but I gotta admit, endless suffering has a way of stealing hope from the heart.
Ordinarily, when I spend time with God in prayer, or peruse the notebook of amazing and multitudinous (but unfulfilled) prophecies that He has given me over the past several years, (which include many promises to restore my health and all that has been stolen from me over the past decade), I am encouraged.
But hope deferred makes the heart sick, and I have told God repeatedly over the past two months that I don't "have it in me" anymore. People have always told me that I'm a fighter, and indeed, I am a strong soul. But for the first time in my life, telling God to heal me or take me off the planet has become more of a routine prayer than I'd like to admit.
I'm not suicidal, nor have I ever had the inclination, but even the strongest of the strong can only endure so much suffering without wishing they weren't stuck in this broken and busted up Garden of Eden anymore.
I know God uses me for His purposes. I have published five books on healing and medicine, and I minister healing to the sick on a regular basis. I can't leave this planet because I know I'm being used, but I could use a bit more happiness and comfort in my days. I need to be well, instead of being holed up in my house, living the lifestyle of a woman fifty years my senior.
I've gone through intense seasons of physical and emotional suffering before. Much of the past decade has been blacked out by these tremendous trials, but what has made the latest one unique-and perhaps more difficult- is the lack of hope I have experienced through it.
It's just been too long. I've confessed my lack of faith to God, prefacing my tirades to Him with, "I'm sorry, God, but I just can't muster up what isn't there. I want to believe you, but the despair is winning right now."
I took the matter to Him again last night, and He responded by giving me an image of a lit match flickering in the darkness, wavering and weak, as if ready to extinguish at the slightest puff of wind. The match represented my hope.
And then, it was as if God was saying that He could create a fire from that faint light in my heart. He didn't need me to have grandiose hope. He knew I was tired, and that I have been through too much. Few people can endure a severe chronic illness for years and still have sky-high hope for better days ahead. My feelings were normal and He wasn't going to punish me for not "believing more." That revelation in itself increased the size of the flame of my little hope match.
Because our society is so performance-oriented, it's easy to slip into believing that unless we have the right thoughts towards God, He can't heal us, or bless our lives. I'm probably more guilty of that than most people. And when circumstances don't change, you can't help but wonder what you are doing wrong.
But sugar-coating despair with words that we think God wants to hear, or to convince ourselves that God is going to bless us, does nothing but shove that hopelessness further down into the soul, where it begins to fester and silently torment us.
We can't increase hope by our own strength, any more than we can muster up faith by affirming God's truths. Neither strategy works, and while speaking words of truth and carrying out right actions can sometimes change the heart, it is also true that out of the heart the mouth speaks, and when the heart is broken, the mouth responds accordingly. When hope is gone, we don't need a bridle on our tongues as much as we need surgery in our hearts.
The good news is, when only a glimmer of hope remains, God can take that faint light and make a fire from it- which burns out the dross of unbelief, pain and every defiance of God's promises.
For many days, I cried out to God in despair, fear gripping me because I couldn't kick-start the hope that I have always maintained. And while I have yet to experience God's warmth upon me, the light within me has become a tad brighter, because I know that it is He who will rekindle the fire. I can't do it. My wilderness is too cold, and I'm too tired.
Yet I must seek His face and spend time in His Word...because only by immersing myself in the reality of Him can this hope return. Hope is a byproduct of spending time in His presence It springs up naturally from a soul and spirit that are in communion with Him. It also eventually makes manifest that which was initially hoped for.
All that I, that we, have to do, is seek His face. Let the enemy or the world not delude us into thinking there is another way to peace. There isn't. He is the restorer of all things. It doesn't matter that only a flicker of hope, or faith, remains. It is enough for Him to work with.
Tonight, as I light a Christmas candle, and study its dancing flame, I am reminded that Jesus Christ came to earth to be a light for every soul on the planet. His light brings hope to our hearts, and shines brightly within us, that we may transfer this same hope into the hearts of those around us.
Silent Night, Holy Night, All is Calm, All is Bright...
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
The Weapons of Our Warfare
Tolerable, difficult or incredibly dark...such have been the three seasons that have marked the past decade of my life. The tolerable and difficult seasons have been sprinkled with days of happiness and ease, but chronic illness and isolation have a way of keeping the clouds over the sun for long periods of time.
As I mentioned in the introduction to this blog, I have seen signs of the snow melting in the winter that has been my life since age 27. But you know how life is when the seasons change...just when you think spring is imminent, a snowstorm comes. And in Colorado, where I live, the snowstorms as we enter into spring are often fiercer than what we experience all winter.
An unexpected, unprecedented storm has unleashed its wrath upon my days lately. Fitful sleep which begins at dawn, and is marked by nightmares, sleep apnea, and bolts of adrenaline crashing through my pain-wracked body, have been just the beginning.
I have made great strides in my healing, but lately, I feel the heaviness of relapse upon me. The fatigue and symptoms of my first "Lyme years" are back, and then some. Eight-hour blood sugar crises; weakness in my limbs, electromagnetic sensitivity which precludes me from working, and the never-ending cherry-on-the-cake pain.
Then there's the isolation which comes with disability, and crying out at 3:00 AM in anger to a God who has somehow morphed into a punishing authority figure. A God who is surely furious because in my suffering, I have accused Him of "dangling healing carrots" in front of me. Reach out to grab one and...just kidding. It's not for right now.
Where has my loving God gone? Why doesn't He speak to me when I am dehydrated by my tears? Where is He when those who professed to love me, quietly vanish from sight?
I know what I'm supposed to say. I know that when the fury of winter hits, refuge doesn't come by screaming at the sky. If I could just rein in my reckless intellect, and praise God. If I could just tell the emotions where to get off, and pick up the weapons that God has given me to fight this...
...But I let them get buried beneath a mound of grief. There they lie, as the snow from the storm silently blankets them, and I watch them disappear. Anyway, I must not believe they work as God has said, because every time I try to pick one up...the sword of the Spirit, the shield of faith, the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness...the storm blows them out of my grasp.
The darkness is too fierce, I protest to God. The pain is unrelenting. I'm sorry, but I can't believe your promises anymore...
And during the adrenaline surges of the night, the enemy hisses, Give up! Your life will never be any different, because you don't believe your God.
I have an unfortunate weakness- a strong intellect. Because the enemy can only operate at the level of the flesh, he uses reason to confuse my mind, so that I exalt it above the wisdom of the Spirit. And when my mind is a biochemical mess, I latch on to his reasonable excuses that I can't live by the Spirit, because I don't have enough serotonin, or cortisol to think properly. My medical knowledge becomes a double-edged sword.
Meanwhile, as my anger and self-righteousness mount, the weapons that God has given me, get buried ever deeper beneath the snow. Why can't I pick them up, God? I wonder in sadness. Jesus, you paid such a price for me to own them, and here I sit, idle...
I don't get it. I don't understand that His body was broken and that His blood was shed, so I could own these weapons, and thereby, find shelter and freedom from the storm that is ravaging me to pieces.
So as I shiver in the cold, vague thoughts of God's armor tapping at the door of mind, I pray: God, I can't do this. I need you to help me dig through the snow, and find the will and the way to put on Your armor. Infuse my mind with revelation knowledge, that no reasonings of the enemy can touch. I need revelation, God, so I know what these weapons are worth...so I know what to do with them, and how they can help me to fight this battle in my mind...Because the battle won in the mind is the battle that is then won in the physical realm. But I can't do it, God. Work in me to will and to do, according to Your promises. I can't see you right now, but I know you are here, listening to me...in Jesus' name.
"Indeed, we are human beings, but we don't wage war according to human standards; for the weapons of our warfare are not merely human, but they have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments, and every proud obstacle raised up against the knowledge of God, and we take every thought captive to obey Christ."
2 Cor. 10:3-5.
"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."
Ephesians 6:10-18
Get me a shovel, Lord.
As I mentioned in the introduction to this blog, I have seen signs of the snow melting in the winter that has been my life since age 27. But you know how life is when the seasons change...just when you think spring is imminent, a snowstorm comes. And in Colorado, where I live, the snowstorms as we enter into spring are often fiercer than what we experience all winter.
An unexpected, unprecedented storm has unleashed its wrath upon my days lately. Fitful sleep which begins at dawn, and is marked by nightmares, sleep apnea, and bolts of adrenaline crashing through my pain-wracked body, have been just the beginning.
I have made great strides in my healing, but lately, I feel the heaviness of relapse upon me. The fatigue and symptoms of my first "Lyme years" are back, and then some. Eight-hour blood sugar crises; weakness in my limbs, electromagnetic sensitivity which precludes me from working, and the never-ending cherry-on-the-cake pain.
Then there's the isolation which comes with disability, and crying out at 3:00 AM in anger to a God who has somehow morphed into a punishing authority figure. A God who is surely furious because in my suffering, I have accused Him of "dangling healing carrots" in front of me. Reach out to grab one and...just kidding. It's not for right now.
Where has my loving God gone? Why doesn't He speak to me when I am dehydrated by my tears? Where is He when those who professed to love me, quietly vanish from sight?
I know what I'm supposed to say. I know that when the fury of winter hits, refuge doesn't come by screaming at the sky. If I could just rein in my reckless intellect, and praise God. If I could just tell the emotions where to get off, and pick up the weapons that God has given me to fight this...
...But I let them get buried beneath a mound of grief. There they lie, as the snow from the storm silently blankets them, and I watch them disappear. Anyway, I must not believe they work as God has said, because every time I try to pick one up...the sword of the Spirit, the shield of faith, the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness...the storm blows them out of my grasp.
The darkness is too fierce, I protest to God. The pain is unrelenting. I'm sorry, but I can't believe your promises anymore...
And during the adrenaline surges of the night, the enemy hisses, Give up! Your life will never be any different, because you don't believe your God.
I have an unfortunate weakness- a strong intellect. Because the enemy can only operate at the level of the flesh, he uses reason to confuse my mind, so that I exalt it above the wisdom of the Spirit. And when my mind is a biochemical mess, I latch on to his reasonable excuses that I can't live by the Spirit, because I don't have enough serotonin, or cortisol to think properly. My medical knowledge becomes a double-edged sword.
Meanwhile, as my anger and self-righteousness mount, the weapons that God has given me, get buried ever deeper beneath the snow. Why can't I pick them up, God? I wonder in sadness. Jesus, you paid such a price for me to own them, and here I sit, idle...
I don't get it. I don't understand that His body was broken and that His blood was shed, so I could own these weapons, and thereby, find shelter and freedom from the storm that is ravaging me to pieces.
So as I shiver in the cold, vague thoughts of God's armor tapping at the door of mind, I pray: God, I can't do this. I need you to help me dig through the snow, and find the will and the way to put on Your armor. Infuse my mind with revelation knowledge, that no reasonings of the enemy can touch. I need revelation, God, so I know what these weapons are worth...so I know what to do with them, and how they can help me to fight this battle in my mind...Because the battle won in the mind is the battle that is then won in the physical realm. But I can't do it, God. Work in me to will and to do, according to Your promises. I can't see you right now, but I know you are here, listening to me...in Jesus' name.
"Indeed, we are human beings, but we don't wage war according to human standards; for the weapons of our warfare are not merely human, but they have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments, and every proud obstacle raised up against the knowledge of God, and we take every thought captive to obey Christ."
2 Cor. 10:3-5.
"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."
Ephesians 6:10-18
Get me a shovel, Lord.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Breaking Out of Prison and Stepping Into Freedom
Chronic illness is a prison, and if you are behind bars for too long, it's easy to forget how to fly. When the illness lasts years, out of necessity, you grow comfortable with being in hell. You have to, in order to survive the isolation and hardship it brings.
So when God recently told me through a prophet to start taking down the decorations in my cell because He was opening the door and setting me free, I was bewildered. He also told me that He wanted me to start living again, and I thought, "What does that mean? Am I not living?"
And then I realized that I have been surviving the past decade, more than I have been living it. I have been spending my days as an orphan, being passed from house to house, begging bread crumbs, begging for healing, and not trusting in my Daddy to provide for me. At least, not as much as I could.
As I get to know my Daddy better, I am living more as the daughter of a King, as He intends, but the prophecy reminded me of how much I yet cling to a jailed orphan mentality. I guess it just feels safe. I'm used to the isolation. I'm used to spending most of my waking hours on survival activities- that is, work and treatments. And isn't that just what you have to do when you're disabled by disease?
If you live from a worldly mindset, yes. When you feel like hell warmed over and your medical costs are higher than your rent and groceries combined, you don't have a choice. You have to buckle down, get smart, and find creative ways to survive and get well...or else.
The problem is that for years, I have halfway adopted this worldly mindset, labeling my fear-based living as the "responsible" thing to do. And the worst part of it hasn't even been that I work too hard when my body screams for rest, or that I skip too many Saturday night engagements with friends in favor of "survival activities." No, the worst part has been the fear that impels me to these things.
The fear-based mentality goes like this: If I don't work on the weekend to make up for what I couldn't do during the work week due to an incapacitating detoxification reaction, I won't be able to pay my bills. If I can't start my work day until noon because I have to sleep late every morning, then I sure as heck had better work until bedtime, or God won't be able to provide for me financially. If I skip treatments in favor of needing to feel well in order to work...well then, He can't bless my healing process.
But if I am the daughter of a King, I don't need to think this way, because there is room to be human in His kingdom. There is room to make mistakes. Anyway, He wants me to trust Him more than He wants me to "get it all right." And in His kingdom, He provides for me when I cannot. Which is always.
Ironically, this month, I felt God leading me to start five new projects. Not one, but five, at the same time that He was telling me to rest and get a life. Really? Well, I would if I could, God...but my body doesn't agree that this is possible.
"When you start living again, healing will overtake you," God had said to me in a prophecy that followed the previous one. "You don't need to do another thing to be well...Just start living again."
But when you've been in a cage, it's sometimes difficult to recognize when God is handing you your freedom. It doesn't look like fun. In fact, it feels like more striving.
The odd thing is that the new projects which He is leading me to do are projects that only a healthy person could undertake. Speaking engagements? Really, God? Yet if I stand on the promise that He is setting me free, stepping out shouldn't tax me. It should eventually lead me into a place of greater health, even if at first, it seems impossible.
At the very least, the new projects will get me out of the cage. Whether I then fly depends upon how much I choose to lean upon Him and trust Him to show me how to use my wings.
I don't think God is advocating that I push my body to do what it can't do. People who suffer from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Lyme disease, and other related chronic illnesses, know that the worst thing you can do to your body is push it when you feel bad. One day of skiing a mountain can land a person with CFS in bed for a week and over time, a fast-paced life of too much activity compromises recovery.
No, my Daddy is simply trying to pull me out of my jailbird mentality. My hell has become too comfy-cozy. I may be a miserable little bird at times, but this world of striving and isolation is the one I have, for too long, understood. Apparently.
So this week I decided to obey Him, and accepted a new job interviewing doctors. I also set up two speaking engagements. In the meantime, I maintain my two blogs, and continue to write a new book. I also stepped into a role as a healing minister at my church, and began a different kind of healing ministry with those who know me in the Lyme disease community. I also keep telling people about my medical books...at the same time that I tell them that the best healing isn't through medicine, but God.
Now I must choose to believe that He will enable me to do all this out of a spirit of rest, rather than survival, and that my body can do what He is calling me to do. I must simply share with others what I have learned over the past decade, and know that He will provide for me in ways that He deems best. I can kill the self-imposed deadlines, allow myself to have some bad days, and choose to have fun with loved ones, instead of scavenging bread crumbs like an orphan on my Saturday nights. I can even stop all the medical treatments, because it's probably time.
I don't yet fully understand what freedom looks like. It may also mean traveling the world again, dating and getting married, and doing all of the things people my age do but which I haven't done much of because of infirmity. More than that, though, I think freedom is a mindset. Of knowing that wherever I am, whatever I have, and no matter my situation, I am the daughter of a King. I am royalty. I belong to my Daddy, who will never leave me nor forsake me, so I don't have to worry about provision, my health or other areas of life.
And as I take tentative steps out of my cell, I grasp His hand and choose to trust Him to lead me into the life of freedom that my soul has quietly been starving for. Even if at times, the steps towards that life feel counter-intuitive.
So when God recently told me through a prophet to start taking down the decorations in my cell because He was opening the door and setting me free, I was bewildered. He also told me that He wanted me to start living again, and I thought, "What does that mean? Am I not living?"
And then I realized that I have been surviving the past decade, more than I have been living it. I have been spending my days as an orphan, being passed from house to house, begging bread crumbs, begging for healing, and not trusting in my Daddy to provide for me. At least, not as much as I could.
As I get to know my Daddy better, I am living more as the daughter of a King, as He intends, but the prophecy reminded me of how much I yet cling to a jailed orphan mentality. I guess it just feels safe. I'm used to the isolation. I'm used to spending most of my waking hours on survival activities- that is, work and treatments. And isn't that just what you have to do when you're disabled by disease?
If you live from a worldly mindset, yes. When you feel like hell warmed over and your medical costs are higher than your rent and groceries combined, you don't have a choice. You have to buckle down, get smart, and find creative ways to survive and get well...or else.
The problem is that for years, I have halfway adopted this worldly mindset, labeling my fear-based living as the "responsible" thing to do. And the worst part of it hasn't even been that I work too hard when my body screams for rest, or that I skip too many Saturday night engagements with friends in favor of "survival activities." No, the worst part has been the fear that impels me to these things.
The fear-based mentality goes like this: If I don't work on the weekend to make up for what I couldn't do during the work week due to an incapacitating detoxification reaction, I won't be able to pay my bills. If I can't start my work day until noon because I have to sleep late every morning, then I sure as heck had better work until bedtime, or God won't be able to provide for me financially. If I skip treatments in favor of needing to feel well in order to work...well then, He can't bless my healing process.
But if I am the daughter of a King, I don't need to think this way, because there is room to be human in His kingdom. There is room to make mistakes. Anyway, He wants me to trust Him more than He wants me to "get it all right." And in His kingdom, He provides for me when I cannot. Which is always.
Ironically, this month, I felt God leading me to start five new projects. Not one, but five, at the same time that He was telling me to rest and get a life. Really? Well, I would if I could, God...but my body doesn't agree that this is possible.
"When you start living again, healing will overtake you," God had said to me in a prophecy that followed the previous one. "You don't need to do another thing to be well...Just start living again."
But when you've been in a cage, it's sometimes difficult to recognize when God is handing you your freedom. It doesn't look like fun. In fact, it feels like more striving.
The odd thing is that the new projects which He is leading me to do are projects that only a healthy person could undertake. Speaking engagements? Really, God? Yet if I stand on the promise that He is setting me free, stepping out shouldn't tax me. It should eventually lead me into a place of greater health, even if at first, it seems impossible.
At the very least, the new projects will get me out of the cage. Whether I then fly depends upon how much I choose to lean upon Him and trust Him to show me how to use my wings.
I don't think God is advocating that I push my body to do what it can't do. People who suffer from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Lyme disease, and other related chronic illnesses, know that the worst thing you can do to your body is push it when you feel bad. One day of skiing a mountain can land a person with CFS in bed for a week and over time, a fast-paced life of too much activity compromises recovery.
No, my Daddy is simply trying to pull me out of my jailbird mentality. My hell has become too comfy-cozy. I may be a miserable little bird at times, but this world of striving and isolation is the one I have, for too long, understood. Apparently.
So this week I decided to obey Him, and accepted a new job interviewing doctors. I also set up two speaking engagements. In the meantime, I maintain my two blogs, and continue to write a new book. I also stepped into a role as a healing minister at my church, and began a different kind of healing ministry with those who know me in the Lyme disease community. I also keep telling people about my medical books...at the same time that I tell them that the best healing isn't through medicine, but God.
Now I must choose to believe that He will enable me to do all this out of a spirit of rest, rather than survival, and that my body can do what He is calling me to do. I must simply share with others what I have learned over the past decade, and know that He will provide for me in ways that He deems best. I can kill the self-imposed deadlines, allow myself to have some bad days, and choose to have fun with loved ones, instead of scavenging bread crumbs like an orphan on my Saturday nights. I can even stop all the medical treatments, because it's probably time.
I don't yet fully understand what freedom looks like. It may also mean traveling the world again, dating and getting married, and doing all of the things people my age do but which I haven't done much of because of infirmity. More than that, though, I think freedom is a mindset. Of knowing that wherever I am, whatever I have, and no matter my situation, I am the daughter of a King. I am royalty. I belong to my Daddy, who will never leave me nor forsake me, so I don't have to worry about provision, my health or other areas of life.
And as I take tentative steps out of my cell, I grasp His hand and choose to trust Him to lead me into the life of freedom that my soul has quietly been starving for. Even if at times, the steps towards that life feel counter-intuitive.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Medicine Versus Faith-Healing
As I sat in the gate area of the Toronto airport this past Sunday, pondering the recent ILADS (International Lyme and Associated Diseases Society) conference, I was overwhelmed, recalling the barrage of treatments that are needed these days to overcome chronic illness. Our environment is extraordinarily polluted: with pathogens, industrial chemicals, heavy metals and other garbage, that staying healthy- never mind healing from chronic illness- is becoming more difficult than ever. That our food supply is so depleted in nutrients and manipulated to the extent that 75 percent of what is now sold in conventional supermarkets is toxic to the body, doesn't help matters any.
Going to medical conferences simultaneously excites and depresses me because of what I learn or am reminded of. New treatments give hope and promise to the suffering, yet the complex regimens required to heal from chronic diseases such as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Lyme disease, fibromyalgia, Multiple Chemical Sensitivities, mold illness, cancer, autism and others, are overwhelming. What's more, many of the sick don't have the incredible amounts of stamina, resources, knowledge or money required to follow these regimens. I know because I am one of these people, despite the fact that I have been researching medicine for over seven years and have more resources than many people.
Of course, God has said that I am healed, and that this healing will completely manifest in me soon. (whatever "soon" means in God's mind). That I don't need to do another darned thing to get well because He intends to finish what medicine has started- by His power; supernaturally. So you can imagine the battle that rages in my mind when I learn about a new, apparently amazing treatment that could finally rid me of this or that infection or biochemical dysfunction. How conflicted I get when a kindhearted physician offers to treat me pro bono or at a discounted rate, or send me free products. I provide a lot of helpful information to the Lyme disease community, so I am sometimes blessed by health care providers who offer me a hand or an ear or a free trial of a product.
During the ILADS conference, a couple of such offers came my way again. Typically, I don't turn them down, because no fool would say No to free help, especially when finances are tight and the companies or doctors who want to assist me are reputable and wise.
I asked God what to do about the offers, since He has told me that He would heal me, without the help of medicine. I probably shouldn't have even asked the question, but when the promise of healing hasn't yet fully manifest and you have spent years trying to get well...the decision is hard. Either way, the decision is hard.
The treatment treadmill is exhausting, time-consuming, expensive, painful and never-ending, yet it takes a boatload of faith to give it up, though God has said in His Word that "by His (My) stripes you are healed." Isaiah 53:5. Maybe the problem is that I tend to become more immersed in medicine than in His Word- it's a hazard of my work as a medical writer.
As I packed to go home from ILADS, I told God that I didn't want my faith in Him as my healer to be diluted by my continued reliance upon medicine for healing. Because medicine has a way of subtly shifting my hope away from God and onto herbs, vitamins and bioidentical hormones as my menders. Supernatural healing doesn't have to be a mutually exclusive way that God heals, but when you are chest-deep in treatment protocols, it is sometimes easier to count on the protocol than on the One who makes the protocol work.
When I take medicine, I wonder about how a particular drug is affecting my body, instead of about how God's Word is touching me. I focus upon the vitamins that I should be taking, instead of meditating upon how He intends to restore every dysfunctional cell in my body by His power.
But as I rose from my seat in the gate area to board my airplane in Toronto, God reminded me of some important truths.
He seemed to say that my faith in Him as my healer isn't contingent upon me taking medicine. I could choose to stop treatments in order to increase my reliance upon Him as my healer, but not taking medicine, in and of itself, doesn't increase faith nor is it proof that I have faith. I may cease to take medicine to try to convince myself that I have faith in God to heal me, or worse, to convince Him to heal me- which I don't need to do.
Conversely, taking medicine doesn't have to diminish my reliance upon, and belief in Him as my healer, if I believe that He blesses the medicine and uses it. As long as I abide in Him and His Word, my faith will remain in Him, not the natural substances and therapies that He uses to heal. On the other hand, if I take medicine because I believe that my faith is insufficient to heal me or that He is waiting for me to do something in order to make me well, then I don't really believe in Him as my healer. Faith isn't increased by the decision to not take medicine, but the decision to take medicine may be a reflection of how much I believe in Him as my healer.
His final words to me in Toronto seemed to be, "Just relax. I will heal you either way." My sense was that He prefers to spare me the trials of medicine- the agonizing detoxification reactions, the money and time and happiness lost by grueling treatments- but He will use it, anyway.
Whether or not I choose to benefit from the benevolence of kind practitioners, He desires that I, that we, remain cognizant of one crucial truth; that He is the healer. He pours supernatural power and light into our cells; He gives doctors wisdom, and He uses the natural substances that He has created. Whatever it takes, to make us better, in body, mind and spirit. Thankfully, He will use whatever methods we respond to in faith. As long as we know that He wants us well, and that He has the power to accomplish what we cannot-whether through medicine or by His Spirit.
Going to medical conferences simultaneously excites and depresses me because of what I learn or am reminded of. New treatments give hope and promise to the suffering, yet the complex regimens required to heal from chronic diseases such as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Lyme disease, fibromyalgia, Multiple Chemical Sensitivities, mold illness, cancer, autism and others, are overwhelming. What's more, many of the sick don't have the incredible amounts of stamina, resources, knowledge or money required to follow these regimens. I know because I am one of these people, despite the fact that I have been researching medicine for over seven years and have more resources than many people.
Of course, God has said that I am healed, and that this healing will completely manifest in me soon. (whatever "soon" means in God's mind). That I don't need to do another darned thing to get well because He intends to finish what medicine has started- by His power; supernaturally. So you can imagine the battle that rages in my mind when I learn about a new, apparently amazing treatment that could finally rid me of this or that infection or biochemical dysfunction. How conflicted I get when a kindhearted physician offers to treat me pro bono or at a discounted rate, or send me free products. I provide a lot of helpful information to the Lyme disease community, so I am sometimes blessed by health care providers who offer me a hand or an ear or a free trial of a product.
During the ILADS conference, a couple of such offers came my way again. Typically, I don't turn them down, because no fool would say No to free help, especially when finances are tight and the companies or doctors who want to assist me are reputable and wise.
I asked God what to do about the offers, since He has told me that He would heal me, without the help of medicine. I probably shouldn't have even asked the question, but when the promise of healing hasn't yet fully manifest and you have spent years trying to get well...the decision is hard. Either way, the decision is hard.
The treatment treadmill is exhausting, time-consuming, expensive, painful and never-ending, yet it takes a boatload of faith to give it up, though God has said in His Word that "by His (My) stripes you are healed." Isaiah 53:5. Maybe the problem is that I tend to become more immersed in medicine than in His Word- it's a hazard of my work as a medical writer.
As I packed to go home from ILADS, I told God that I didn't want my faith in Him as my healer to be diluted by my continued reliance upon medicine for healing. Because medicine has a way of subtly shifting my hope away from God and onto herbs, vitamins and bioidentical hormones as my menders. Supernatural healing doesn't have to be a mutually exclusive way that God heals, but when you are chest-deep in treatment protocols, it is sometimes easier to count on the protocol than on the One who makes the protocol work.
When I take medicine, I wonder about how a particular drug is affecting my body, instead of about how God's Word is touching me. I focus upon the vitamins that I should be taking, instead of meditating upon how He intends to restore every dysfunctional cell in my body by His power.
But as I rose from my seat in the gate area to board my airplane in Toronto, God reminded me of some important truths.
He seemed to say that my faith in Him as my healer isn't contingent upon me taking medicine. I could choose to stop treatments in order to increase my reliance upon Him as my healer, but not taking medicine, in and of itself, doesn't increase faith nor is it proof that I have faith. I may cease to take medicine to try to convince myself that I have faith in God to heal me, or worse, to convince Him to heal me- which I don't need to do.
Conversely, taking medicine doesn't have to diminish my reliance upon, and belief in Him as my healer, if I believe that He blesses the medicine and uses it. As long as I abide in Him and His Word, my faith will remain in Him, not the natural substances and therapies that He uses to heal. On the other hand, if I take medicine because I believe that my faith is insufficient to heal me or that He is waiting for me to do something in order to make me well, then I don't really believe in Him as my healer. Faith isn't increased by the decision to not take medicine, but the decision to take medicine may be a reflection of how much I believe in Him as my healer.
His final words to me in Toronto seemed to be, "Just relax. I will heal you either way." My sense was that He prefers to spare me the trials of medicine- the agonizing detoxification reactions, the money and time and happiness lost by grueling treatments- but He will use it, anyway.
Whether or not I choose to benefit from the benevolence of kind practitioners, He desires that I, that we, remain cognizant of one crucial truth; that He is the healer. He pours supernatural power and light into our cells; He gives doctors wisdom, and He uses the natural substances that He has created. Whatever it takes, to make us better, in body, mind and spirit. Thankfully, He will use whatever methods we respond to in faith. As long as we know that He wants us well, and that He has the power to accomplish what we cannot-whether through medicine or by His Spirit.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Stewarding the Seed to Get the Oak Tree
I wish I had been more coherent for the Voice of the Apostles conference which I just attended in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Long flights, drives and days, along with six thousand souls packed into an auditorium, contributed to the event being a little too much for my body and brain.
Although I was extremely fatigued and sleep-deprived throughout most of the conference, I've yet decided that the jetlag, tiredness, back pain, and now-the "aftermath head cold"- have been worth it. Because not only did I witness over a thousand miracle healings at this amazing conference, but God dissolved a chunk of long-standing despair in my soul, which had been leaning a little too long towards the lies of this world.
I need to attend events like this once in a while, so that I can be reminded of who God is for me and what He intends for my life. I think we all do, because life has a way of pulling us away from God's truths and into our navels.
I don't have the stamina tonight to put into words all that inspired me at VOA, although in the days to come I may post more about the conference and the rich tidbits of wisdom that I acquired from it. For now, I want to share one vital truth which encouraged me, in the hopes that it will encourage you, too.
God has a great plan for all of our lives, yet we sometimes miss it because we forget that great projects, works and relationships start out as little seeds of promise. God doesn't give us immense oak trees right away, but many of us, in our anxious desire to see the seeds that He has given us become trees, drop those seeds without watering them.
Pastor Bill Johnson, one of the speakers at VOA, noted that we must steward the seeds that God has given us, if we want to see those seeds become trees. That means being willing to step out in faith in the small things and obey what He asks us to do, so that the promises He has given us: in Scripture, through prophecy and in our personal time with Him, get fulfilled.
Great projects, prosperous relationships, and even miraculous healings, are the result of taking tiny steps of obedience towards a larger goal. And this is usually the way that God's amazing plans for us manifest. Through baby steps.
Yet these steps aren't the result of anxious striving and fighting to believe God for the fulfillment of His promises. They come from faith, which is birthed, as Bill Johnson mentioned, out of rest and surrender. When we fight, we lose. When we spend time with the One who loves us eternally and unconditionally, and live out of His presence, faith is the byproduct. Obedience results from faith, and from obedience comes the manifestation of God's plan for our lives.
Rodney Hogue, another pastor at VOA, noted that when we bypass the process of being children before God (by not doing anything for Him, but simply receiving from Him) our obedience towards Him becomes performance-oriented. When we attempt to fulfill our dreams out of a performance-oriented mindset, we get burned out, tired and fail to receive all that God has for us.
Self-effort cannot accomplish God's plan for our lives. We may achieve great things and be able to help many people, but our lives will yet be inferior products of performance, rather than a powerful manifestation of His Spirit working through us.
Nobody lives within the realm of the Spirit all of the time. We are busy. We forget that God is good, and our natural tendency is to "do life" through our own efforts. Especially if, as children, we were taught that we have to take care of ourselves, because nobody else will.
Yet if we know that God can and will manifest His marvelous plan for our lives, and that we don't have to do anything except choose to abide in Him, obedience doesn't have to be a burden. Life doesn't have to be so hard. We don't have to worry about having all the right ideas. We don't have to fear not having the physical or mental energy to survive. We don't have to strive and push and fight to make our dreams come true.
We just have to spend time with our Daddy, and choose to believe what He tells us in the quiet space of our thoughts, as we step out in obedience. Because if we are faithful in the little things, He will put us in charge of bigger things, and fulfill every desire of our hearts. It doesn't come from striving. It comes from being with, knowing, and abiding in Him.
Although I was extremely fatigued and sleep-deprived throughout most of the conference, I've yet decided that the jetlag, tiredness, back pain, and now-the "aftermath head cold"- have been worth it. Because not only did I witness over a thousand miracle healings at this amazing conference, but God dissolved a chunk of long-standing despair in my soul, which had been leaning a little too long towards the lies of this world.
I need to attend events like this once in a while, so that I can be reminded of who God is for me and what He intends for my life. I think we all do, because life has a way of pulling us away from God's truths and into our navels.
I don't have the stamina tonight to put into words all that inspired me at VOA, although in the days to come I may post more about the conference and the rich tidbits of wisdom that I acquired from it. For now, I want to share one vital truth which encouraged me, in the hopes that it will encourage you, too.
God has a great plan for all of our lives, yet we sometimes miss it because we forget that great projects, works and relationships start out as little seeds of promise. God doesn't give us immense oak trees right away, but many of us, in our anxious desire to see the seeds that He has given us become trees, drop those seeds without watering them.
Pastor Bill Johnson, one of the speakers at VOA, noted that we must steward the seeds that God has given us, if we want to see those seeds become trees. That means being willing to step out in faith in the small things and obey what He asks us to do, so that the promises He has given us: in Scripture, through prophecy and in our personal time with Him, get fulfilled.
Great projects, prosperous relationships, and even miraculous healings, are the result of taking tiny steps of obedience towards a larger goal. And this is usually the way that God's amazing plans for us manifest. Through baby steps.
Yet these steps aren't the result of anxious striving and fighting to believe God for the fulfillment of His promises. They come from faith, which is birthed, as Bill Johnson mentioned, out of rest and surrender. When we fight, we lose. When we spend time with the One who loves us eternally and unconditionally, and live out of His presence, faith is the byproduct. Obedience results from faith, and from obedience comes the manifestation of God's plan for our lives.
Rodney Hogue, another pastor at VOA, noted that when we bypass the process of being children before God (by not doing anything for Him, but simply receiving from Him) our obedience towards Him becomes performance-oriented. When we attempt to fulfill our dreams out of a performance-oriented mindset, we get burned out, tired and fail to receive all that God has for us.
Self-effort cannot accomplish God's plan for our lives. We may achieve great things and be able to help many people, but our lives will yet be inferior products of performance, rather than a powerful manifestation of His Spirit working through us.
Nobody lives within the realm of the Spirit all of the time. We are busy. We forget that God is good, and our natural tendency is to "do life" through our own efforts. Especially if, as children, we were taught that we have to take care of ourselves, because nobody else will.
Yet if we know that God can and will manifest His marvelous plan for our lives, and that we don't have to do anything except choose to abide in Him, obedience doesn't have to be a burden. Life doesn't have to be so hard. We don't have to worry about having all the right ideas. We don't have to fear not having the physical or mental energy to survive. We don't have to strive and push and fight to make our dreams come true.
We just have to spend time with our Daddy, and choose to believe what He tells us in the quiet space of our thoughts, as we step out in obedience. Because if we are faithful in the little things, He will put us in charge of bigger things, and fulfill every desire of our hearts. It doesn't come from striving. It comes from being with, knowing, and abiding in Him.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
The Wasteland or God's Green Paradise?
I sometimes lead a double life. One is a reality based on lies, and the other, God's truth (but is there any other truth but His?).
When life is rough, I sometimes live in the enemy's reality. It's a wasteland, of muddy brown fields, skeletons and grey skies. There's also lots of "dissing" going on. That is, dis-ease, dis-appointment, dis-couragement, dis-pair (yes I know that's spelled wrong), dis-tress, dis-may, dis-sension, dis-ability and so on.
If circumstances are dark enough, I swallow the "dissing" wholeheartedly, though I may yet be seeking God and praying for Him to pull me out of it. Sometimes, an hour or two in His presence is enough to move me into another reality -His- but at other times, I need a bigger push in order to get out of the wasteland.
By the way, God's reality is abundance; green pastures full of good feed, the sun warming the earth, eagles soaring, and His will being done on earth, just as it is in Heaven.
Sometimes, the pressure to live in the wasteland is great. Difficult circumstances press in on all sides, and it's easy for us to forget where our true home is. And if the "dissing" has gone on long enough, we may need more than just an occasional Sunday in church or an hour with God, in order to get out of the wasteland.
Because it's one thing to get a glimpse of God's wonderland from the other side of the fence, and another to step into, and live, in His place of paradise.
Though we all want to live in green pastures, we get stuck in the enemy's territory because it's sometimes easier to roll around in the muck, as we replay the lies we've been fed over a lifetime. Staying on the prosperous side of the fence can be an especially fierce challenge for those who have been programmed to crave the familiarity of barren places.
Today, God reminded me that one important way that we can remain in the reality of His paradise is by loving, and ministering, to others. Because as we do, we are reminded that He is active within us, and faithful to bless those who seek Him. As we speak kind words to another, we realize that His love lives in us and flows through us. As we pray over strangers, we witness His power to heal, transform and pull people out of the wasteland. As we provide food and clothing for neighbors, we witness His provision. As we cheer up the downtrodden, we experience the warmth of His sunshine. And then, we remember we have value because He inhabits our being and deems us worthy to carry out His great works of love on earth. And suddenly, we are back in the green of His land, simply because we activated what He has put inside of us.
Today, when I awakened from my slumber four hours earlier than usual, I unwittingly sentenced myself to the enemy's territory by lamenting the fatigue in my body. "This will never go away, anyway, whether you get two hours of sleep or ten, so you might as well get used to it." Went the sinister little voice in my head.
But as the day progressed, and God used me in church to heal a 20 year-old woman who had suffered from intense back pain since the eighth grade, I felt myself jumping the fence. Afterwards, as the healed woman looked at me, her eyes round with amazement and joy accentuating her lovely features, the morning lies moved further from me. "I can't believe it," the woman said, and as she asked me my name, the astonishment in her voice indicated to me that her real question was, "Who are you and where did you come from?"
Had she articulated those words, I would have replied, "God sent me. To remind me, and you, of the land to which we belong."
When life is rough, I sometimes live in the enemy's reality. It's a wasteland, of muddy brown fields, skeletons and grey skies. There's also lots of "dissing" going on. That is, dis-ease, dis-appointment, dis-couragement, dis-pair (yes I know that's spelled wrong), dis-tress, dis-may, dis-sension, dis-ability and so on.
If circumstances are dark enough, I swallow the "dissing" wholeheartedly, though I may yet be seeking God and praying for Him to pull me out of it. Sometimes, an hour or two in His presence is enough to move me into another reality -His- but at other times, I need a bigger push in order to get out of the wasteland.
By the way, God's reality is abundance; green pastures full of good feed, the sun warming the earth, eagles soaring, and His will being done on earth, just as it is in Heaven.
Sometimes, the pressure to live in the wasteland is great. Difficult circumstances press in on all sides, and it's easy for us to forget where our true home is. And if the "dissing" has gone on long enough, we may need more than just an occasional Sunday in church or an hour with God, in order to get out of the wasteland.
Because it's one thing to get a glimpse of God's wonderland from the other side of the fence, and another to step into, and live, in His place of paradise.
Though we all want to live in green pastures, we get stuck in the enemy's territory because it's sometimes easier to roll around in the muck, as we replay the lies we've been fed over a lifetime. Staying on the prosperous side of the fence can be an especially fierce challenge for those who have been programmed to crave the familiarity of barren places.
Today, God reminded me that one important way that we can remain in the reality of His paradise is by loving, and ministering, to others. Because as we do, we are reminded that He is active within us, and faithful to bless those who seek Him. As we speak kind words to another, we realize that His love lives in us and flows through us. As we pray over strangers, we witness His power to heal, transform and pull people out of the wasteland. As we provide food and clothing for neighbors, we witness His provision. As we cheer up the downtrodden, we experience the warmth of His sunshine. And then, we remember we have value because He inhabits our being and deems us worthy to carry out His great works of love on earth. And suddenly, we are back in the green of His land, simply because we activated what He has put inside of us.
Today, when I awakened from my slumber four hours earlier than usual, I unwittingly sentenced myself to the enemy's territory by lamenting the fatigue in my body. "This will never go away, anyway, whether you get two hours of sleep or ten, so you might as well get used to it." Went the sinister little voice in my head.
But as the day progressed, and God used me in church to heal a 20 year-old woman who had suffered from intense back pain since the eighth grade, I felt myself jumping the fence. Afterwards, as the healed woman looked at me, her eyes round with amazement and joy accentuating her lovely features, the morning lies moved further from me. "I can't believe it," the woman said, and as she asked me my name, the astonishment in her voice indicated to me that her real question was, "Who are you and where did you come from?"
Had she articulated those words, I would have replied, "God sent me. To remind me, and you, of the land to which we belong."
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Our Real Woe: We Don't Believe God
Illness deflates the spirit. Financial hardship discourages. The loss of relationships pains the heart. Loneliness sinks the soul. Broken dreams crush our hope. But in the end, our greatest woe may not be that we lack money, love or our health-it's that we don't believe God and the promise He's made to redeem our suffering.
We look at the evidence of our lives and deep down believe that the promise of health is for others. After all, we've been sick for fifteen years! Or we recall our car repairs and cardboard-walled apartments and think that God really isn't interested in meeting all of our needs. We ruminate on our divorces, or years of isolation, and conclude that relationships are for the happy who were blessed enough to have well-balanced parents.
When we don't believe God, despair and fear set in. When "by His wounds, we are healed" (Isaiah 53:5 NIV) and "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10, NIV) lose their significance, life distresses. When "Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5, NIV) are empty words, so are our souls. When we believe that the words, "Beloved, I pray that you may prosper and be in health, even as your soul prospers" (3 John 1:2, NKJ)were meant for the characters of the Bible, we give up on the idea that God still heals today. When challenging life circumstances become a greater reality than what He has promised us in His Word, hope fades. And when Jesus' death only purchased for us eternal life, rather than abundant life on earth, His sacrifice becomes emptied of its power for the day-to-day of today.
But Jesus purchased more than just eternal life for us when He went to the Cross. He redeemed us, and saved us, in the greatest sense of the word. For "sozo" (saved), in the original Greek in which it was written in the Bible, means, "saved, healed, delivered and preserved." Therefore, because of His sacrifice, we are given power over sickness, depression, devastation, and all the lies that affront us about our identity and inheritance in His kingdom. Of course, the manifestation of His promises can take time, as we get to know Him and who He is for us, but they are real, Yes and Amen nonetheless.
Still, we struggle to embrace "sozo" because we have been taught that seeing is believing. We don't know how to believe first in order to see, because staying stuck in what we know is sometimes easier than stepping out in faith. Grasping on to a more optimistic reality feels unsafe to a life that has been accustomed to tragedy.
"But God," we protest, "Those promises seem like they are for everyone else but me, because life just never seems to get any better."
And we forget that it's not about our weaknesses, or what we have endured, but the Cross and what He endured for our sake. So what is truth? The voice in our head or what He has said?
When we say: "I have screwed up too much in life to ever be in a healthy relationship again." He says:
I was pierced for your transgressions. (Isaiah 53:5, NIV). Nails were driven into His feet and hands; a spear was thrust into His side, for the purpose of redeeming every mistake we have ever made.
When we say: "God doesn't care about me."
He says: I was crushed for your iniquities; (Isaiah 53:5, NIV) He cared about us so much that He thought that being bruised, broken, battered and murdered would be a worthwhile exchange for our freedom.
When we say: "I can't have peace in the midst of this situation" He says,
the punishment that brought you peace was upon Me; (that is, He took the punishment that we deserved for our independence from Him, upon Himself at the Cross, so that we would not have to feel guilty for our sins against Him, ourselves, or others).
And of course, when we protest that we will never be healed, He says otherwise:
"By My wounds you are healed." (Isaiah 53:5, NIV).
Let us ask Him for the courage to believe in Him, not in the trials that life has handed us. Because either His Word is true or it's not. Either God is a liar or our thoughts are deceiving us. It's up to us to decide, moment by moment, the truth that we want to embrace. Let us not adopt the mind's perspective out of a perceived inability to challenge the lies that have beset us our entire lives. Let us not buy into an inferior life, because it seems easier than doing the hard work of change. Let us ask Him to instill in our hearts the reality that, "Everything is possible for him who believes." (Mark 9:23, NIV). And may we know that in the end, we can do it, because, "it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose" (Phil. 2:13, NIV). Amen, Jesus. Amen.
We look at the evidence of our lives and deep down believe that the promise of health is for others. After all, we've been sick for fifteen years! Or we recall our car repairs and cardboard-walled apartments and think that God really isn't interested in meeting all of our needs. We ruminate on our divorces, or years of isolation, and conclude that relationships are for the happy who were blessed enough to have well-balanced parents.
When we don't believe God, despair and fear set in. When "by His wounds, we are healed" (Isaiah 53:5 NIV) and "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10, NIV) lose their significance, life distresses. When "Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5, NIV) are empty words, so are our souls. When we believe that the words, "Beloved, I pray that you may prosper and be in health, even as your soul prospers" (3 John 1:2, NKJ)were meant for the characters of the Bible, we give up on the idea that God still heals today. When challenging life circumstances become a greater reality than what He has promised us in His Word, hope fades. And when Jesus' death only purchased for us eternal life, rather than abundant life on earth, His sacrifice becomes emptied of its power for the day-to-day of today.
But Jesus purchased more than just eternal life for us when He went to the Cross. He redeemed us, and saved us, in the greatest sense of the word. For "sozo" (saved), in the original Greek in which it was written in the Bible, means, "saved, healed, delivered and preserved." Therefore, because of His sacrifice, we are given power over sickness, depression, devastation, and all the lies that affront us about our identity and inheritance in His kingdom. Of course, the manifestation of His promises can take time, as we get to know Him and who He is for us, but they are real, Yes and Amen nonetheless.
Still, we struggle to embrace "sozo" because we have been taught that seeing is believing. We don't know how to believe first in order to see, because staying stuck in what we know is sometimes easier than stepping out in faith. Grasping on to a more optimistic reality feels unsafe to a life that has been accustomed to tragedy.
"But God," we protest, "Those promises seem like they are for everyone else but me, because life just never seems to get any better."
And we forget that it's not about our weaknesses, or what we have endured, but the Cross and what He endured for our sake. So what is truth? The voice in our head or what He has said?
When we say: "I have screwed up too much in life to ever be in a healthy relationship again." He says:
I was pierced for your transgressions. (Isaiah 53:5, NIV). Nails were driven into His feet and hands; a spear was thrust into His side, for the purpose of redeeming every mistake we have ever made.
When we say: "God doesn't care about me."
He says: I was crushed for your iniquities; (Isaiah 53:5, NIV) He cared about us so much that He thought that being bruised, broken, battered and murdered would be a worthwhile exchange for our freedom.
When we say: "I can't have peace in the midst of this situation" He says,
the punishment that brought you peace was upon Me; (that is, He took the punishment that we deserved for our independence from Him, upon Himself at the Cross, so that we would not have to feel guilty for our sins against Him, ourselves, or others).
And of course, when we protest that we will never be healed, He says otherwise:
"By My wounds you are healed." (Isaiah 53:5, NIV).
Let us ask Him for the courage to believe in Him, not in the trials that life has handed us. Because either His Word is true or it's not. Either God is a liar or our thoughts are deceiving us. It's up to us to decide, moment by moment, the truth that we want to embrace. Let us not adopt the mind's perspective out of a perceived inability to challenge the lies that have beset us our entire lives. Let us not buy into an inferior life, because it seems easier than doing the hard work of change. Let us ask Him to instill in our hearts the reality that, "Everything is possible for him who believes." (Mark 9:23, NIV). And may we know that in the end, we can do it, because, "it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose" (Phil. 2:13, NIV). Amen, Jesus. Amen.
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