... and the crick don't rise

"A man's heart devises his way, but the LORD directs his steps." - Prov. 16:3

"... you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live, and do this or that.'..." - James 4:15

An old tag (end of sentence) goes, "be the good Lord willin' and the crick don't rise." Folks said it after planning to meet again next week or next month, etc. The saying was an acknowledgement that nobody is promised more than the moment they are living in, and that God is sovereign. By sovereign, I mean that He chooses what happens in spite of our plans. Sometimes the things we plan happen, and sometimes they don't. Either way, it is God who decides how things will play out.

I have had constant reminders of this fact the last couple of years, mostly to do with my schooling. A planned practicum in the fall of 2018 led to a failed practicum and me having to put it off until the following fall, looking for a new site. Once I found one that was perfect, things were in place when all of a sudden one of the main participants became very ill, and needed to extricate himself from all non-essential commitments. Thus, again, I had to defer my practicum.

Photo by misterfarmer at Pixabay

And now it is 2020. By God's grace, the arrangement from last year has held, tentatively, since nobody knows what life will look like later this year (with COVID-19 being such a reality in our world). But even before the virus, I determined to hold such things lightly, and to leave the final decision to the Only One who sees the end from the beginning. It's an exercise in faith for sure!

As I've been preparing for "whatever God has" (as my formerly sick mentor put it recently), I've been doing some reading about the call of God to each believer to 'incarnate Christ' (yes, used as a verb!) to those around us who may be in need of His help. That requires that I have a vibrant and vital relationship with Jesus. More and more I am seeing how I have needed this time of waiting in order to step back from all I thought I knew, and to re-learn how I can be an instrument in God's hands. I am called to be the embodiment of Jesus to those who need to see Him and know Him in a more intimate way. I am one of His ambassadors - called to act on His behalf the way He would: with love, acceptance, and compassion.

And thank God, I have the power to do that - as do all believers - because of the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit. Without Him, I would be totally unequal to such a task.  This isn't just words. It's breath ... life ... living. I'm challenged to seek His glory above my own. I'm willing to open myself to Him in intimacy. All those things I have always wanted as a believer can be realities as long as I align myself with His desire for me: a love-bond with Him. Only then can I be a part of the overflow of His presence into others' lives at their point of need.

I truly hope that "the crick don't rise" this time.  And I know that even if it does, He's got this.

He always has.

In Everything

"Be anxious for nothing, but
in everything, by prayer and supplication
with thanksgiving, make your requests

known to God." - Philippians 4

The above verse came to my mind today as I reviewed my Facebook news feed. So many people are so freaked out over this coronavirus "COVID-19" even though our little province has had only 27 cases, all travel-related, and all recovered with NO hospitalizations. Be that as it may, I am not one to deny the potential dangers of the virus, nor am I one to pooh-pooh medical directives to wear masks and keep washing my hands and avoid touching my face. 

What I am most concerned with, however, is the tendency of people to say that they trust in God and yet they continue to obsess about what others are doing to endanger their own health (by political decisions to allow snowbirds who have properties here into the province, or to allow more than 5 people at a time to get together, for example).

That's when I think of Philippians 4 - and meditate on what that means for me. I see a number of things that I can apply to this very situation.

First, don't worry.  Worry only robs you of the moment, of enjoying the present. It does nothing to change the situation. Worry is actually bad for folks because it raises hormone levels that cause people to gain weight and to be more depressed and anxious. Besides, the actions of others are out of my control; I can only control what I do, not what others do. So it is fruitless to worry.

Second, pray in everything. Not just about everything, but IN everything - in the midst of the problem, bring it to God. Bring your anxiety, bring the whole situation, and how you feel about it, to God.

Free image by geralt at Pixabay.com

Third, and perhaps most important, pray with asking AND thanksgiving. "Supplication" is just a fancy way to say asking or requesting. But this requesting is not the oh-please-please-please kind, the kind that has very little trust in the goodness of God. It isn't like someone making a petition to their boss or to their premier. Rather, it is the act of a child asking something from a loving father. It trusts in the Father's love, in His character, in His goodness. It's the kind that says, "I ask You for this and I trust You that You will do what is best, so I thank You for whatever You decide to do." It is the prayer that leaves the outcome to God's loving care, and lets go of the desire to influence how things turn out.  It is the prayer of faith, not in the outcome, but in God Himself.

No other kind of prayer will calm the spirit. I know, because I have seen the kind of prayer that doesn't thank God for His decision. I remember as a child seeing my mom praying on her knees, crying and worrying on her knees, for a loved one. And when she got up from her knees she would still worry and fret, and be torn up, about the situation or the person she just prayed for. It did her no good and it did that person no good either. I know that, because the person she was praying for was me. All her prayers did was make me feel shame. I saw no faith there. I only saw a pitiful person worrying on her knees. It disgusted me. It made me not want to have anything to do with a God who couldn't be trusted to look after her OR me. (Of course, later, I came to understand that this wasn't what God was like. But it wasn't my mom who taught me that.)

Prayer IN everything WITH thanksgiving liberates the person who prays. It removes the responsibility for the outcome from that person's shoulders and places it on God's, where it belongs in the first place. It is an act of trust, not of fear. It honours God. It does not insult His grace and goodness. And it results in peace, not more anxiety.

That's the kind of peace I want. That's the kind of God I serve. I am overwhelmed by His loving care for me and for all of those who reach out to Him in faith, trusting His goodness and His grace. So when I pray - which I doubt if I'm ever NOT praying as it's a conversation with God - I listen for His heart, let go of what I can't change myself, and trust Him to either change those other things or help me to accept what is. And He does, simple as that. He does.

It's so freeing.

The Dividing Line

For the last few decades, but especially the last four-plus years, I've watched it with growing alarm. Otherwise wonderful people, committed Christians, good-living, God-fearing individuals, are fighting and losing friendships and even relationships with family members - now even in public fora like social media - about things that (to my way of thinking) should not even be an issue.  Politics.  Doctrine.  Human rights. 

Seriously?  When Jesus said that He came to bring division in Luke 12:51, He wasn't talking about these kinds of obsessions. He was talking about the simplicity of the Good News.  He was talking about Himself, about the Scandalon (the stumbling stone) of the Gospel. He was predicting family members turning each other in (in other words, turning in believing family members), ratting on them to the authorities because of their own lack of belief in Him. 

As for those who are fellow-believers, Jesus prayed in John 17 that they would be united - that they would be as united with each other and with Him as He was with the other members of the Trinity. Not in the sense that we all believe the same way about the same things, but in the sense of loving and accepting each other the way we are, in spite of our differences in thought or method. 

He said nothing of external politics. He said nothing of believers hating and bullying one another over piffling little details that mean nothing. 

Photo "Girls Looking At Each Other" courtesy of Stuart Miles
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

The dividing lines that I've noticed lately have been whether this or that leader is the right one for our respective countries. Or whether women should or should not preach. Or whether someone is white or a person of colour and whether that matters. Or whether certain people should be allowed to fall in love with each other and get married. Or whether people do or do not have the right to identify as male or female, or other. Or whether climate change does or does not exist. Each side -by and large - uses scripture as a weapon against the other.

Again I say, SERIOUSLY??

Ever since the dawn of humanity, there have been differences of opinion. And there will continue to be differences of opinion. Trump, Trudeau, democracy, socialism, feminism, etc., etc. Pick a topic, and someone has at least one opinion about it.  I even know someone who has three opinions on just about everything, and who will argue with herself without even anyone there in the room with her! 

But all these differences of opinion -- especially if we are believers -- are opportunities to show love to each other rather than excuses to fight one another. Otherwise, we poison our own testimony. And the cause of Christ suffers.

The world sees us fighting one another, putting one another down publicly, making fun of each other, and so forth, and what is the first thing they think? "If that's what being a 'Christian' is, I want no part of it."  And they are perfectly justified in saying so. Some believers, wanting no part of what passes for Christianity today, have decided that even though they believe in Jesus, they no longer want to be considered Christian because of the negative image it conjures up.

ENOUGH!! 

I submit another, more deserving, dividing line: a line in the changing sand of the times, so to speak. And I dare each of us to cross it, and to pay attention to the changing times while we do it. That dividing line is LOVE.

Enough with beating each other up over things that won't matter in a hundred years. Enough with trying to look good by making other people look bad. Enough with the martyr mentality (oh look at me, I'm the only one who has it right and you're just making me suffer...). Enough with the siege mentality where it's 'them against us'. Or 'us against them' more accurately....whoever "them" is! Most likely, it's usually the current villain in the crusader-mindset of religious folks: anyone that doesn't look like, act like, or think like we do. 

Come on, admit it - we've all done it in one way or another. We find a way to set ourselves apart from other folks. This kind of practice has earned itself the term of "othering" - treating another group of people as "less than" us because of some sort of difference we feel uncomfortable with. So let's step over that line from "othering" to "ANothering" where we love one ANother, bear one ANother's burdens, meet one ANother's needs. It doesn't mean we have to be doormats, but it does mean that we need to accept one ANother the way each of us is. 

And I think that Jesus would do the same. I know He did with me.

Day of Rest

There was a time, a few years ago, when I looked forward to Sundays  -  well, SOME Sundays at least  -  because I was in worship ministry and I knew and enjoyed spending time with the people on my worship team.  The leaders were Spirit-filled and Spirit-led - and worship was a pure joy, so much so that when I entered in, there was nobody that I was aware of except for my Savior and me. My husband agreed. For a while, it was marvelous.

Then those people left. They had another ministry opportunity elsewhere, and after they were gone, it seemed as though the life and soul went out of that place for us. Others came in to take their place, but that sense of being led by the Spirit gradually got replaced by a sense of duty and obligation. When that happened, church became an effort, and we noted how we spent a good five or six hours in that place on a Sunday, and came home exhausted, dead tired, from the sheer effort it took to navigate petty bickering, personality clashes, and politics. More and more we dreaded going to church. 

Finally, for those reasons and more besides, we realized that the organized church was not the place for us. We were burnt down to the core, used up, and spit out. People only wanted us around for our talents - and sometimes not even then. Error began to creep into the preaching - not the kind of error that questions if angels do or don't have wings, but the kind of error that made Christianity more about internal politics, external performance, and following an arbitrary set of rules than it did about acceptance, love and grace. As we stood on the platform and ministered, and even had time limits put on that, we felt as though our being there was a form of support for (and therefore agreement with) this kind of fear-based thinking. We wanted no part of that.

So after much prayer and soul-searching, we left. That was August 2015. 

Image "Couple Having Breakfast" courtesy of Ambro
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

Since that time, we have grown to love Sundays again. It truly is a day of rest for us.  For one thing, we no longer dicker over whether Saturday or Sunday is the sabbath. Technically Saturday is, but we have long thought of Sunday as our day of rest, and as long as it is one day in seven (which we never had before; Sunday was our busiest day!) we figure it's all good. We finally can rest one day in seven!! For another thing, we can sleep in without guilt, leisurely have breakfast and talk to one another, spend time together, and do things we enjoy doing: reading, listening to music, going for a stroll, whatever. 

What's more, we are closer to God now than we have ever been in our lives. "What do you do for fellowship?" we hear church members ask us again and again when they hear us say we don't "go to church."  And we chuckle.  Back then, we "fellowshipped" by rubbing shoulders with people, shaking their hands (when we were told to) and talking about superficial things like the weather or sports or the latest style of boots, or whatever. Now, God sets up our fellowship (and so much more often than just once a week!) and we discuss deep spiritual things, we open up about our joys and struggles, and we pray for each other. It's koinonia - a real, living, fluid community, and we are so much more free than we have ever been. We have seen God heal, restore, encourage, and lift up our brothers and sisters, without ever setting foot inside a church building, because "where two or three are gathered together in My name, there I am in the midst."

And it happens all the time. Not just Sundays, but nearly every day of the week, in some form or other. We are happier, more at peace, more filled with joy, and growing in love and acceptance. We have seen God meet needs miraculously, whether physical or financial or emotional. It's exciting, quite frankly! And it gives us a sense of calmness and rest to live in that stream of loving community.  

So, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go read some more. And maybe I'll even take a short nap. Life is good. :)

Delegated Authority

I work for the government in a job where I make decisions about eligibility for benefits. I apply the legislation and provide an impartial decision with reasons for that decision if I say no. My signature can also release funds to successful applicants based on an assessment of their disability.

But the power I have to make such decisions doesn't come from me. It comes from the Minister of my department. It's called "delegated authority" and it means that I have the right, as a disability adjudicator, to make decisions on behalf of the Minister. 

And it's that kind of delegated authority I would like to talk about in the spiritual sense and more specifically in the area of prayer for the sick. So welcome to the message I have burning through my heart, aching to be shared.

I went through all the gospels not that long ago, and I tried to find even one instance where Jesus ASKED GOD to heal someone or perform a miracle of any kind. Know how many times that happened?

Zero. 
Zilch. 
Nada. 
Zip.

When Jesus sent out seventy of His disciples to the countryside in pairs, He didn't tell them to ask the Father to heal, or to ask Him, even. He said, "Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons." (Matt. 10:8). So how did they do this? Yes, it was His power, His authority, but they did it like they saw Jesus do it... every single day. 

And how did Jesus do it? If He didn't pray to the Father to do it, how did He go about it? 

Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.
From this site

Simple. 

He spoke to the problem. He didn't plead for God to take it away; He TOLD it to leave. And it did. Every. Single. Time. 

I know, I know; I can hear you now. "What about 'if it be Your will'?" Well, let's look at that. When did Jesus say that to His Father? in Gethsemane! He was facing the greatest trial of His life (spoiler: the cross!), and naturally wanted to get out of it (umm HUMAN!) and it was THEN that He said "if it be Thy will." Hmmm. NEVER did He say that phrase in relation to healing someone. That's kind of revealing in itself, isn't it?

Isn't it just? The only time He prayed ANYTHING before a miracle was at Lazarus' tomb, and ONLY for the benefit of those in earshot. And moreover, there was no request at all. When He prayed, it was to thank the Father for hearing Him. That's ALL. And then He spoke to the dead man, and called him out of the tomb. 

I know the objections. I had them too. The person doing that kind of healing has to have a lot of faith. Yes, there is a lot of faith involved.  But here's the thing. It's not YOUR faith. It's not MY faith. It's JESUS' faith.  

Hear what I have to say. Romans 6:23 - "It is by grace you have been saved through faith, and that [that is, faith] not of yourselves. It is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast." 

Not convinced? Try Galatians 2:20, the last part of the verse, "...and the life I live now, I live by faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me..." Did you notice it doesn't say faith IN the Son of God... but faith OF the Son of God?  Folks, it's JESUS' faith! 

This means that I don't have to drum up my own faith or work myself into a frenzy for it; I just need to rely on the faith of Jesus, which is Rock-Solid! Resting in His infinite faith, I can speak to the sick (germs, sickness) with authority (because He has granted delegated authority to do so) and the sick people will recover. (That is in one of the accounts of the Great Commission, by the way.) And so can you.

Me? Really? 

Yes. You. Really.

When I first stumbled on the concept of speaking TO the problem and speaking in the authority of Jesus' faith --- it revolutionized my Christian walk. No longer was I pulling my faith up by the roots every week or so to see if it was growing. I focused on intensifying intimacy with God, and spoke to problems as they arose in the mighty name (authority) of Jesus. And let me tell you ... IT WORKS. So far, since about 2 years ago, I have lost count of the number of times people have been helped, healed, been strengthened, had needs met, and been built up physically and/or spiritually when I have used Jesus' faith and spoken into their lives - family, friends, perfect strangers, you name it, regardless of distance and regardless of whether they were aware of me doing it. 

It's amazing. It's revolutionizing. It's very humbling. And yes, it's even FUN. The feeling of being on an adventure is something I couldn't have foreseen, but it happens every time I am led to speak life or healing into someone's situation. And it happens a LOT more frequently than could be explained by just coincidence. And I am so very grateful... it's hard to describe how that is, but it just is. That He would trust me (and you) with that kind of authority - is very humbling... yet invigorating!

Let your hearts be encouraged. Let your minds be expanded. Let the peace of God reign. Let go of your doubts and let God's love motivate your spirit.  Take the place of authority you were meant to have. You will NEVER regret it.

Mothers Day

For all of my adult life, I have dreaded Mothers Day.  I thought of it as a day where people were gushing on about their mothers, how wonderful they were, how lucky they were to have such wonderful people who loved them unconditionally.

And I would compare their experience to mine and come up WAY short. Not everyone's mother is a saint, I would say. Of course nobody would believe that my growing-up years were so awful, especially after they met my mom. But the woman they met was not the woman I knew. They were totally unaware of what happened behind closed doors, and she liked it like that. And that, as Forrest Gump said, is all I have to say about that.

All that aside, soon after the death of my youngest daughter in a car crash, I started to rethink Mothers Day. This time, I started thinking about it from the other side - instead of me gushing on about my mother, I could look at it as my family honoring me AS a mother. 

Image by Liz Noffsinger at www.freedigitalphotos.net

That changed my perspective a bit. Especially when I look at how my relationship with my daughters changed after I got into therapy - hard to believe that was over 10 years ago!! - and I started to understand about personal boundaries. 

What I mean by personal boundaries is how everyone has them (including me), how I need to take a step back and not try to control everyone's thoughts, beliefs, and actions, and just let life happen, let people be who they are, and allow them to bear the consequences of their own actions without trying to fix them. 

That realization that everyone has boundaries (see my page on "What is Codependency?" on this blog) literally revolutionized my life and my relationships with my husband and my kids! I learned a whole new way of living life, and I would never go back to the way it was. That new lifestyle was a gift; it gave me another four and a half years of good relationship with my youngest before she passed away, and it has allowed me to grow and become a better person and a better mom. 

So instead of looking at Mothers Day as a time to honour my own mother (thus living a lie in my own mind - she was my abuser, not what everyone thinks of when they think of the typical concept of motherhood) I started to see the day differently: it became a way to celebrate the mom I am becoming. It became a means to let my children express their gratitude to me, and not robbing them of that experience like I did before. 

And instead of spouting all sorts of platitudes about HAVING a mom and feeling resentful of those people who had that gift in their lives, I could literally celebrate BEING a mom, breaking the cycle of abuse, and starting a new, gentle, accepting, and loving legacy. And that shift in focus helped me survive the annual dread-fest in the month of May at the beginning, and actually (as time went on) look forward to the second Sunday of May.

It's been a slow and sometimes painful change at times. As my own mother ages and gets further into her age-related dementia, she has already completely forgotten the things she did and said to make my life a living hell when I was growing up. And - though it surprises me to say it - it's become less and less important to me to have people believe my story, and more and more important to BE the kind of mother that I wish I had, the kind who showed her love in private instead of just in public, who supported me and who believed in me. She was rarely like that with me because she didn't want me to become prideful, but that fact doesn't keep me from choosing to be that loving, caring, accepting person with my loved ones. I can give them what I never was allowed to have: a chance to believe in themselves, to take pride in their accomplishments, and to have their own voice.

I've also been rethinking my reaction to others' desire to honour their mothers on Mothers Day. Before, I would roll my eyes or just want to stay away from folks who do that. I would hide in my house that day, want to pull the covers over my head, and reject any effort made to spoil me on Mothers Day. Honestly. What that did was steal something very important from my children, and make others who had good relationships with THEIR mothers to feel guilty for having something so wonderful.

Now, I'm more inclined to just say "Happy Mothers Day" to them.  But not only to them!  Now, I say it to women who - because of trauma - don't feel good on that day: women whose mothers were mean to them, women who never could have a child of their own, women who have miscarried, aborted, or lost a child to tragedy, women who never had the opportunity to have grandchildren, and also women whose children (and/or grandchildren) have walked away from everything they tried to teach them. Those are the hearts that hurt and weep on Mothers Day. And those are the people I think deserve to hold their head up and say that yes, I AM A MOM. I am worth something.

And we are.

One Bad Apple

I was talking with my brother about a situation that had recently troubled me regarding the actions of one individual, and how I was tempted to walk away from all members of that group based on that individual's actions. I had recently realized how that was an overreaction on my part. In talking about it with my brother, I inadvertently quoted a song by either the Jackson 5 or the Osmonds (depending on who you're talking to) called "One Bad Apple." I said, "One bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch." 

He responded by saying, "Yeah, as long as you don't let it sit there. Throw that thing away!"   

I nodded, making myself a promise to reflect some more on what was essentially an important life lesson: remove the toxic thing from your life so that you don't ruin your enjoyment of the rest of your life. Like when Jesus said, "if your eye offend you, pluck it out."  I don't think He was talking about self-mutilation, but about closing the door on something that was not healthy for you. 

Free image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

But also, just because one person did something that hurt you, don't assume that everyone who seems similar will be dangerous to you. That's living life in fear and allowing that one person to poison your future. Don't allow that to happen. Learn the lesson you were meant to learn from that experience, and after that, throw the rest away. Remember that even a spoiled apple has unspoiled seeds, that good things can come from bad events. It doesn't mean you go looking for the bad, or that you embrace that person again, but that you know that God is looking after you, lovingly caring for you. In remembering that, you can cast your cares and concerns onto Him and trust that He will be there, loving you, working everything together to make you more like Him (Romans 8:28-29). 

That was the 'sermon' that I preached to myself. It helped me become more willing to look for the good in things, and to not go to that place of viewing myself as a victim. Rather, I needed (and still need more and more) to trust myself to the care of God, to His grace and faithfulness, to know that He will allow into my life only that which will make me a better person. 

Finally, without belabouring the point, I needed to learn that there are a lot more good apples in my life than there are bad ones. I'm determined to keep it that way. :)

A New Creation

"If anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation.
The old has passed; the new has come."- 2 Cor 5:17

"People I talk to keep pressuring me to go to church," he explained. "I'm not so sure I'm ready to go. My reputation around here is not good, and I just know there will be those people who will sit back and wonder who I think I am, coming in there and testifying..."

"Well, you'd get that anywhere you went. You know that."

"I know," he sighed. "But I just need to spend some time with Father God so that I can be strong enough to not care what other people think of me." 

I nodded. "You take all the time you need. The most important relationship right now (and for that matter, always) is your relationship with God. And church," I added, "might be one way to enhance that. However, only when you're ready."

He quirked an eyebrow. "But I thought we weren't to forsake the assembling - - - "

I smiled. "What do you think this is -- right here, right now? Huh? We've been communicating with each other, sharing the things of the Lord, talking about our struggles, and caring for one another. I don't know what anyone else might call it, but I'd call it church!!"

His eyes slowly widened, and a smile began to shine from his eyes like a sunrise. "Didn't our hearts burn within us, when He was with us along the road...?  Wasn't that the two disciples on the road to Emmaeus?"

Photo by David Alberto Carmona Coto from Pexels

"Sure was." I grinned. "Wherever two or more are gathered in My Name, there am I in the midst." 

His shoulders relaxed.

"You'll get to the place where it won't matter what people think. So just know that any pressure you feel comes from other people's expectations, not necessarily from God. Of course, they might mean well, but you also don't answer to them. I think you're pretty good at recognizing when you are being manipulated rather than when God is telling you something. When you're ready, you'll know that it's time to make that step to be with others. But until then ... here we are. And that's okay."

His eyes glistened. He got it.

I've had this same conversation with more than one person, but I've picked this one because it stood out for me. I've had to have chats like this one because so many people are "church-hurt" and they need a slow reintroduction to the people who say that they belong to Jesus but who take particular delight in pointing out areas of improvement (thus trying to do the Holy Spirit's work for Him, but don't get me going.) And by "improvement" I mean areas where the person's life doesn't look like theirs: from actions to appearance. Same words, same hair-cut, same causes, same version of the Bible, same, same, same.  

It doesn't matter. Our Father is a God of endless variety, and it would be pretty boring if all of us looked, smelled, and acted like the same human.

What matters most is that this person, no matter the past, no matter the number of times he or she has said things have changed, no matter your or my opinion of things, is a new creation in Christ. The old has passed; the new has come. Who are we to sit in judgment? Who are we to hold that person's past against them? Who are WE to determine how fast and in what areas he or she should grow? Do WE know the inner workings of their heart?  What God has started in that person, He will finish. Whether they agree with us or not on everything, it isn't our job to make them into perfect replicas of ourselves. 

It's God's work to grow them up in Him, in a way that will bring out their unique qualities. He is the gardener, the caretaker, the great shepherd. He knows best what will draw each person into an intimate and vibrant relationship with Him. He's been doing it for far longer and is much better at it than you or I could be. Let's set aside our preconceived notions of how spiritual growth looks, and trust God to nurture His own creation how and when He sees fit. 

Besides, maybe they can someday speak life into someone who can relate to the way they look or talk. For example, their appearance - whether they have tattoos, dreadlocks, piercings, or whatever - might put us off, but that doesn't mean God can't use them to reach people who would never be drawn to us. And isn't that the main reason why we're all still here in the first place?

Another night with the frogs

The title of this post has become a common saying between my husband and me over the last thirty-odd years of marriage. 

It refers to the story of Moses and the ten plagues, when God was in the process of freeing His people from slavery in Egypt.  One of the plagues - early on in the ten - was a plague of frogs. There were frogs everywhere: in kitchens, bathrooms, back lawns, roadways, and bedrooms - swarming everywhere so much so that you couldn't step anywhere or roll over in bed without a frog there. 

Never mind being unsanitary - it was downright nasty!!  So anyway, Moses goes to Pharaoh (the slave-driver king who was holding Moses' people captive) and says, "I can say the word and the frogs will go away." Pharaoh believes him - after all, he's turned the river to blood! "When do you want me to command the frogs to go away?" he asks the king.

"Tomorrow."

Not right now, not even in an hour. No - Pharaoh is too proud to admit that he has no control over the situation, and so he exerts the only control he thinks he has left. 

He chooses to spend another night with the frogs.

Photo "Green Frog"
courtesy of Elwood W. McKay III at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

People get comfortable with intolerable situations ... sometimes because it's all they know and they fear changing things and moving into something they fear more than the pain of the situation: they fear the unknown. WE fear the unknown. Even if it means spending another night with the frogs. Even if it means staying in that situation or continuing to think, say, or do things we know are going to be bad for us. We get stuck in the same old pattern, doing the same things with the same types of people, and making the same mistakes over and over again. We get locked into a repeating cycle and we want out, but ...

We know things will change if we do step out into a new experience for us. But we don't. 

Why? 

Good question - or is it? Does it matter why? I suspect there are as many reasons as there are people. The point is that we resist change. 

Change is scary. It really is. Taking that first step into the unknown is risky. It's one of the most scary things we can do. But if we don't take that step, we are stuck with the results we've always gotten - and we'll never know what might have been.

The few times I have taken that first step have led to such amazing adventures. I still have to fight the tendency to want to stay with the familiar - even if it's not all that pleasant.  But if the last two years or so has taught me anything, it's that the unknown with the knowledge and awareness of God's love is far better than fighting for space with those slimy critters - the frogs, I mean. :)

Turn it around!

Last week, I had the opportunity to go and visit my brother, who has been having a whole laundry list of physical problems. Angina, obstructive lung disease, kidney dysfunction (was at 15%), insulin-dependent diabetes, colon cancer (operated January 2017; they got it all!), gallstones (he has a bag draining his gall bladder because it was too dangerous to operate last January to remove it after his cancer surgery), and that's just the major stuff. 

I had gone over to his place to take him to an appointment and found him gone - and several phone calls later (finally one to the police, who found him) I learned that he had gone to the hospital the day previous. So I went to see him in the hospital. The doctors had told him that the blood test results were positive for the enzyme that is there in the blood after a heart attack. So yes, he had a heart attack, thinking it was angina. They told him he had a couple of "occlusions" - which means that he had blockages in a couple of his arteries.
They were talking about taking him to a better-equipped hospital so that they could do the stent procedure: inserting a small tube inside of the artery to allow the blood to get past the blockage.

Serious stuff - especially considering that the procedure involves shooting dye into the bloodstream in order to see what they're doing in there - and the dye is very hard on the kidneys. For him, with 15% function in his kidneys, it was dangerous. 

Before I left, I obeyed an inner prompting and went over to him. I laid my hand on his abdomen and spoke to his kidneys. I told them in Jesus' name to restore to function. For good measure, I also told his pancreas (which produce insulin and where diabetes happens) to behave themselves. 

When I called the hospital today, they told me that my brother had been to the other hospital for the procedure and was back in his room. I eventually got a chance to talk to him. 

Photo "Eagle In Flight" courtesy
of Jeff Ratcliff at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

He sounded wonderful - more energetic and chipper than I had heard him sound in many months. He said he felt better, and was actually sitting up in a chair when we were talking. He told me that his kidneys did not shut down; in fact, they were working better than they were before the procedure. His progress again astounded the doctors. 

A few posts ago, I talked about how prayer has been changing for me in the last couple of years or so. It's less about asking for things or praying "for" people, and more about deepening the relationship with my Father by spending time with Him. I also mentioned that Jesus didn't pray for people to be healed. By the power of the Spirit, He demonstrated the power of God - by speaking to the problem and commanding it to leave. Since I started doing the same thing, believing with His faith (and not my own), I have seen so many miracles happen that I've lost count. Some are "small" - and some are not. 

I don't say this to brag; I can take absolutely no credit at all for this. NONE!! It's all been Him. Even the faith I use to speak healing and wholeness into people is not mine. It is Jesus' faith (see Galatians 2:20 - "...the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith OF the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me.") And the only reason I'm sharing this now is because the knowledge and experience that God has given me about the authority He has delegated to us because of Jesus - has revolutionized the way I pray, the the way I believe, and the way I relate to Him, to myself, and to others. 

I want to encourage other believers to step outside the trap of "oh-please-oh-please-oh-please-oh-please." Rather, we as believers need to step outside of the strain, grunt, and shout mentality and into the rest, relax and trust mentality. We need to know, really KNOW who we are, and rest in how much He loves us. We need to turn it around, to turn our thinking around. We commonly speak death and calamity on the people we pray for (and you have heard this happen as much as I have) by praying our fears out loud and giving God an escape hatch in case things don't work out (called "if it be Your will").  Instead, we can speak to the problem - just as Jesus did, and trusting in HIS faith - and watch in amazement as it obeys.

Because it will. It will. 

Anything but this...

When the children were young and we were so very deep in debt there was no way out, when we were forced to one inescapable conclusion - that we had to declare bankruptcy - I groaned inside. "Oh God. Anything but this."

But of course it happened. And through it, I learned about mercy, and grace, and forgiveness, and provision. I learned which people were our friends and which ones didn't want to have anything to do with us because they judged us. I learned how God can take the most awful experiences of our lives and teach us lessons we need to learn: how to live within our means, for one thing. 

When the government came after my husband and took him to court - and we had no money to fight them - when they broke every promise they made to us when he stood trial, I closed my eyes and said, "God. Anything but this." But it happened anyway... and through that experience we learned the pain of being falsely accused with no way to fight back, and we learned who stayed, and who judged. We also learned even more about God's provision, and were given even more opportunities to forgive.

When our child was injured and had to undergo surgery - when she faced unjust treatment by one health care professional after another - when she was declared disabled ... I dropped my head to my chest and sighed, "Oh God. Anything but this." But through that experience we learned how to ask for what we needed, how to accept help, and how to see light even in the midst of darkness. 

When our other child rebelled, hung out with people who were in trouble with the law, stole for them, stole from us, and finally wanted to leave the province, I ached inside ... "God. Please. Anything but this." I was so scared, felt so rejected. But ... she left anyway. And through her leaving, I realized that the hedge of protection that I had placed around her no longer protected her because she had chosen to leave. At the same time, and probably BECAUSE of that loss of protection, I learned how to trust Him for all things, how she needed to be away from that protection to see how bad things were "out there".  I learned how to let go more and more of my need to control the outcome, and how to develop a relationship with her that grew more and more precious in such a short time. And I knew the joy of seeing that same child embrace a vibrant relationship with God - something she never would have done had she stayed. 

When she got evicted and had to live in her car, when she fought fatigue, sickness, hunger and cold for days and days ... making her so exhausted she fell asleep at the wheel and was killed ... I cried in anguish, "Oh GOD! Anything but this!!"  But of course, through the searing pain of loss, I learned the sweetness of God's presence, the wonder of true friendship, the amazing impact of her legacy the more I told her story, and the empathy that allowed me to be there for someone else who lost her own daughter not long after that. 

More and more I am convinced that God uses the darkest, most terrifying experiences of our lives to show us His great love and to make us stronger for whatever is around the bend. I have learned this through the things I have gone through, usually kicking and screaming like some petulant child. He is patient with me. I am learning.

Photo "Doctor In Surgery" by
taoty at www.freedigitalphotos.net

When my brother got cancer, and needed to have surgery, I knew by then that God was going to work something amazing out of it all. And He did. The surgeon got all the cancer. There is none left. Sure, there are physical problems still, and it is hard, but God has this under control. 

When my mom got dementia and went wandering one day last month, and had to be put into protective custody in the hospital, part of me went to that place of fear: "Dear God, no. Not this." But this time, I didn't stay there. I started to see how God was working even in the midst of this horrible thing in our family. I can see God's love in the situation even while she waits, still wanting to go home, to be placed into a nursing home - the last place she ever wanted to go. In spite of all of that, I have confidence that He will make a way in that wilderness just like He did with all the other barren places I have mentioned, and way more besides. 

He does this because He loves us. He LOVES US. Not because there is anything we've done or not done - but because He WANTS to. That's it. No more than that. 

And I am sure that He will amaze us all. And that He will delight in His lavish love when our jaws drop at how good He is to us.

So ... when people ask me to pray for God to take something away from them that is hurting them, or hurting someone they love, I will pray - of course! But I pray for God to do the same kinds of miracles that He did for me and for us, ... for them.  I pray that He shows them His presence not only with them, but IN the whole situation. I pray that they have peace, that they will learn the joys of letting go of their situations and clinging to Him. That they will realize that He is right there with them.  

I have seen too many miracles happen "in the midst" to believe less than that. 

Making room

You make room for what matters to you.  I've heard people say this. I've said it. And I believe it's true. 

But what if what matters to you, after you have made room for it, becomes so deeply ingrained into you that it's like breathing?  Well  ... then you just breathe. You don't think about it; you just do it. And when you are prevented from doing that, you fight with every ounce that's in you to regain that thing that is like air to you. So the question becomes not whether you make room for something but WHAT you make room for ... WHAT will eventually become indispensable to you!!

When it comes to spiritual things, there are a lot of people who have made A room for God and all things spiritual. It is a nicely furnished room - filled with warm fuzzy feelings and lots of symbolism, music and pretty things. Or they furnish it with war banners and weapons of self-righteousness (but that is another post for another time.) There, in that space, they are able to contain their faith, compartmentalize it, give it a place to exist without fear that it will overtake the rest of their life or make any real changes in them or in their world. After all, that would be fanaticism. Right? 

Photo "Fountain" courtesy of dan at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

But I'm not talking about making A room for God. I'm talking about making room - allowing Him to overtake, fill, overflow, and transform everything we are. 

Listen to the words of Paul: "When Christ, who is our life, shall appear..." (Colossians 3:4). This is how He becomes so deeply infused into us that we cannot imagine life without the assurance of His presence... living in constant contact with Him, bubbling up from within us like an artesian well of clean, refreshing water. This is where prayer becomes an act of intimacy, as I spoke about in my last post. This is where God's love becomes a moment-by-moment reality, not one of those struggle-to-believe-it things, but a wonderful reality, making us naturally burst forth in an automatic grateful outpouring of worship and praise, an eternal fountain of confidence in His power and grace. 

From that fountain (which comes from that artesian well!) we CAN speak with His authority to the problems we see and experience in our (and another's) life. We CAN command sickness to leave. We CAN banish oppression. We CAN - because He has delegated that authority to us.  And - I say again - we don't even have to rely on our own faith; we have His ... so there is no doubt that can creep in, no faith-killing phrases, no negativity. There is only His love, His power, His faith, His authority.

How can I say this? Because ... I've experienced it.  The last few months in my life have been a testament to how strength, provision and miracle after miracle flow from this supernatural source of living water! Those who know me best know about these miracles - but I will give a couple of examples, just from the last 3 or 4 months, of commanding sickness to leave and seeing direct results:
(1) my own diagnosis of pre-cancer of the uterus, followed by a complete hysterectomy (almost fully recovered and feeling better than I was before the surgery in some ways), and 
(2) my brother's diagnosis of stage 1 colon cancer, the fact he actually survived the surgery, beat gall-bladder complications, and his kidney function (stopped at one point) began to improve. The doctors are still baffled. But we both know what happened: the authority of Jesus released through the spoken word and producing healing!

And these stories need to be told; there is no arguing with experience! 

In the same way that we can make room for God and His power, we can also make room for the enemy of our souls. I explained it to one person this way: death and life are in the power of the tongue, the Psalmist said.  When we, as ambassadors of Christ, speak and agree with the words of satan, we make room for him to do as he pleases. He kills. He steals. He destroys. And those innocent predictions (fears, worries) that we make out loud or even to ourselves? They actually make room for the enemy to have his way, for him to win. When we make room for satan by words of negativity, doubt and fear, we hand over to him the power over those situations to actually do what it is that we fear the most. I've seen this happen, time and time again. And it's so unnecessary!

However, when we take that forfeited space back - when we make room for God's passion for us to come to the fore, and we speak those things that He wants (life, love, healing, peace, joy, grace, strength, wisdom) then the enemy of our souls is routed, overthrown, and defeated in that situation. We walk in God's love. We don't try to convince people; we just live in that life-filled place, breathe, sleep, eat in that reality where God is large, in charge, and for us (Romans 8:31). We make room for God to have His way in us - to take His rightful place. Not because we "should" but because He loved us from start to finish before we even were conceived. Such lavish love is enough reason to make room.

Prayer changes

This morning I read one of those well-meant phrases that Christians are known to say, and say often.  "Prayer changes things."  I know I said it for years - but my view of prayer and what happens during prayer has changed in recent years.  I used to think that when someone had a need or a physical problem, we were supposed to pray to God for them to have it resolved or healed ... but as I've learned more, I really don't think that's what prayer is for. Besides, I've really listened to some of the prayers that have been prayed for people who are sick with this or that disease, and I hardly think that they sound like "the prayer of faith" that James talked about when he said for the sick person to call on the elders of the church for the laying on of hands. Rather, those prayers sound like worries, and pleading, and doubting ... as if God must be placated. And the usual result of those prayers has been exactly the opposite of what the person believed himself or herself to be praying for.  I've seen it happen far too many times for it to seem like coincidence, so much so that I hesitate to ask for prayer except from a chosen few whom I know to NOT pray like that.

Off and on for the past few years, I've been examining the ministry of Jesus when He was physically here on the planet, and I've discovered something about prayer by doing so.  Jesus very rarely prayed publicly. Most of His praying was done in private, or when He was alone, while He was in public ministry. So I looked at the most famous time when Jesus prayed in public ... and what I saw rather shocked me.  

It's in one of my favourite stories in the New Testament - the raising of Lazarus from the dead (this is in John chapter 11). You'll recall that Jesus had heard that Lazarus was sick and then stayed two more days where He was. He then told His disciples that they were going to go to see Lazarus - that Lazarus was dead and that He was glad He was not there when it happened ... so that they would believe.  (Keep that statement of purpose in your back pocket). 

When Jesus got there, all He seemed to find was unbelief -or belief to a certain point and then ... nothing (that is, they believed that He could have healed Lazarus when he was still alive, but now that he was dead, all bets were off). Eventually Jesus convinced the family and friends to roll the stone away from the tomb door. ("Didn't I say that if you believed, you would see...?")  And then He prayed.  But it wasn't the kind of prayer that we often hear in healing services, which sounds like ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease.... as if God has to be cajoled or convinced to do good to us. No, Jesus didn't pray like that.  Here's John 11:41-42 -

Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. I knew that You always hear Me; but because of the people standing around I said it, so that they may believe that You sent Me. (NASB)

From this prayer, I can draw these conclusions: 
(1) Jesus knew that God had already heard Him; 
(2) Jesus knew that God ALWAYS heard Him; 
(3) Jesus never once asked God to raise Lazarus from the dead; and 
(4) He only prayed aloud in front of people in the first place because He wanted the people who were standing around Him to believe that God sent Him. 

What does all that tell me? 
(1) Jesus had complete trust in God's goodness, and didn't have to gather it up and strain and grunt and groan to produce it or to convince God that He had faith; 
(2) Jesus got that faith from the hours alone He had consistently spent with God in private (more about that in a bit); and 
(3) Jesus was demonstrating that you never ask God to do what He has delegated TO YOU the authority to do yourself. 

Then He turned toward the tomb and called - ONCE - to Lazarus ... to come out of the tomb. And Lazarus did. Lazarus was dead - he had no faith - he wasn't even there; he was in Abraham's bosom, beyond caring what happened to his body. His family and friends had the kind of faith that believed in platitudes, and they had no faith that Lazarus would be raised. JESUS believed. JESUS called to the dead man. And that, my friends, is how you heal the sick, raise the dead, cast out demons ... because remember folks, Jesus had laid aside His divinity.  He was fully human and relied on the living, eternal Holy Spirit to live out His life through Jesus ... to the world.  He modeled how we could rely on the Spirit too, just like He did.

The source of Jesus' faith was (is) in the relationship that He and the Father had (and still have!) Over and over again, we read in the gospels how He got up long before daybreak and went to be by Himself... to pray to the Father. What was He doing during that time? Some have said He was getting His "marching orders" for the day. Having lived in the Spirit - I really don't think that's it. Living in the Spirit is like getting the "marching orders" (so to speak) right at the time they're needed. It's a lot like flying by the seat of your pants ... so again, what was Jesus doing in prayer? 

I have a radical suggestion.  What if Jesus was simply maintaining closeness with His Dad? 

Image "Couple At Sunset" courtesy
of piyaphantawong at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Think about it.  What if prayer is simply developing and maintaining intimacy with God? and by virtue of that very intimacy, there develops a deep, inner knowing that God is with you, for you, in you, caring for you, loves you without reservation, and longs to connect with you - and with everyone - on that level?

So does that kind of prayer change things? Hmm, for me, that's up for debate.  I don't think that it's true in the sense that most people think about when they refer to "things" - that is, events and so forth.  Things may not change; other people may not change; circumstances may not change.  However, I'm more inclined to think that this kind of prayer changes the pray-er.  Inside. I believe that prayer aimed at developing and maintaining intimacy  grows faith and confidence, and strengthens the person who prays (who draws close to God) so that the Spirit can do His work in and through that person. The purpose of this kind of relationship prayer is so that the person, in drawing close to God, accepts God's unconditional love and is able to recognize the leadings of the Spirit. With that kind of confidence in God, we won't need to ask Him for anything, or to do anything. We will know He is with us.  We will rely on the Spirit, and with His leading, we will speak to whatever problem presents itself in the way and at the moment that He chooses.

This is how Jesus lived His earthly life. As I have come to ponder this reality more and more, I have changed; my prayer life has changed.  I no longer pray like I used to pray. I just enter His presence and deliberately become aware of His love for me. I meditate on His love and His goodness. I start to grasp His good intentions toward me and toward all people. I remember that He has already given to me all things (including HIS faith!).  

I remind myself that He has given me the authority that Jesus had when He was here on the planet ... authority to speak to the mountain, to speak to the sickness, to speak to death, to speak to demons in the name of Jesus ... and expect these things to be dislodged and banished because He wills it. I don't have to drum this authority up (it's already given to me!), I don't have to dig down deep to access my own faith (Jesus already believes for me!) and I don't have to raise my voice.  I don't have to be theatrical about anything.  I just trust in His love.  Then my whole life becomes a prayer - a song of dedication - an act of worship.

In this way, the practice of prayer is not so much about me, but about Him, about His love, His goodness, His passion, His desire to bond.  That is what I am learning.  This realization is removing all that pressure that I used to feel that it was somehow up to me to pray harder and believe more, because it would be my fault if I didn't do it right and somehow someone got sicker or the dark side won.  It's not about that at all. It's about Him. If I enter the picture at all, it's in the area of realizing how greatly He loves me - how amazing He is - and in the area of growing in intimacy with Him.  Only then can I grasp onto the power that He has given to me and use that power to do His will: loving and speaking life into a dying world.

The pressure and politics - and pleasures - of isolation

One day recently, I was having a discussion about something with an acquaintance, when the topic turned to something on which the person and I did not share the same opinion.  

She asked me about it, so in spite of my better judgement, I gave my opinion, which I backed up with anecdotal (based on personal experience) evidence.  It stopped the conversation cold, and both of us commented on how awkward it felt, how inappropriate it was for us to even be discussing it. 

After that, I sensed a coldness, a withdrawal of respect, if you will, between us.  And it got me to thinking about the subtle pressure that comes to bear when two people don't agree on something - the social pressure to conform, for one side to convince the other and failing that, the removal of that thing from the list of things where one feels "safe".  

There is a lack of acceptance that is inherent in such differences of opinion; one side is unswayed by the other, and a (silent or voiced) agreement takes place where both parties resolve never to bring up that topic again.  Whether that is from a fear of confrontation, or from an unwillingness to entertain the other's point of view (belief, doctrine, attitude) again based on fear of being proven wrong or anger that someone holds to a different viewpoint, the result is the same: the walls go up and a whole other area is cordoned off with a big "Do Not Enter" sign posted, a "demilitarized zone" - a no-man's-land or an emotional mine-field.

I've been giving this idea some thought since deciding to leave the institutional church last summer.  And I've noticed that in some ways, and with some people more than others, the same process has been happening with people who had said to me that we were part of the family of God.  Yet when we decided to leave the physical house where they felt (to one degree or the other) comfortable, and where we did not, there was that same awkwardness, that withdrawal, that "let's not go there" mentality that just ... appeared.  Out of nowhere, it seemed, people who would laugh and joke with us simply avoided eye contact, or promised to keep in touch but didn't, or if they did keep in touch, there were awkward silences, things they felt they couldn't share, things we felt that we couldn't share - because we were in different worlds.  

And slowly, that resulted in isolation from a community we THOUGHT was based on more than just the name engraved on a plaque or painted on a sign near the church entrance.  It made us question whether the relationships that we had spent years developing were nothing more than a sham - whether they were based on whether we kept up our end of the contract, or whether we were "of use" to the community.  It all seemed so ... superficial, petty, and ... conditional. 

We made it clear that we were not leaving our relationship with God, but that we no longer subscribed to living life by traditions, rules, and the fear and shame that is behind those things.  We thought that those who knew us best would understand that this was not a rejection of them, but a personal decision.  And perhaps some of them did.  

Yet ... here we are.  God sets up times when we are in community with one or two other people and seeking His face - and He shows up; these times are wonderful and remind me of what the early church must have been like.  Yet for the most part, it's like we have died as far as relationships with some people are concerned.  

Don't get me wrong; our relationship with God has deepened and we are experiencing peace and joy more now than ever before.  Yet even that makes some folks uncomfortable; after all, aren't we supposed to shrivel up and waste away to nothing if we don't slap our fannies on a church pew somewhere? 

Photo "Bald Eagle Close Up" courtesy of
Tina Phillips at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

More and more, I don't think so. I think that that mentality limits God in ways I am not comfortable with.  And truth be told, while there are some aspects of church attendance and traditional ministry that I do miss at times, in those moments, I usually just play the tape all the way to the end and realize that for me, it's not worth going back for just those few things.  

I kind of feel like Neo in "The Matrix" - I've swallowed the red pill (those who've seen the movie know what I mean) and now, things just don't look the same anymore.  And it IS isolating.  The very nature of that realization means that there ARE going to be topics I won't be able to discuss with certain  people, and there are going to be some people who won't feel comfortable being around me either. It isn't that they are wrong and I am right; it's just that we are in different places with different needs. Yet, for someone who all her life wanted everyone to like her and approve of her, it's a big deal that some people now ... don't - or they don't act like they do.

Accepting that is probably one of the hardest things about this past year.  As liberating as this lifestyle is, as wonderful as it is to look at life through the lens of God's unconditional love, it is still sometimes a lonely place - but one dear friend of mine turned that thinking around when she called it "the aerie" - the eagles' nest.

I like that.  True, there is isolation, but there are also many more updrafts, and the advantage of a bird's eye view, so to speak.  Things that seemed so huge: political wrangling, position, petitions, placards, pleading, proselytizing, pontificating, and pseudo-pious posturing ... seem so puny and piddling compared to the simple truth that God is God and I am not.  And I'm okay with that.

In fact, I'm better than okay with it.  I like it just fine!