While they were worshipping the LORD and fasting, the Holy Spirit said,' Separate now for Me Barnabus and Saul for the work to which I have called them.'" Acts 13:2 NKJV
Have you been called, separated unto the Holy Spirit by your illness?
That certainly never occurred to me - until today, when the Holy Spirit touched these words and they stood up and waved.
I do feel like this illness has separated me, that's for sure! I never know when I will have enough energy or the ability to think straight enough to accomplish something or go somewhere. One by one friends stop calling because I have become so unreliable. It also prevents me from involving myself in physical tasks at my church, prevents me from serving in some capacities I would love to be involved with.
But our God neither makes mistakes nor wastes anything. CI, and what the world calls "infirmities" are occurrences that carry with them rich opportunities.
Look for a moment at those whose lives were "afflicted" but chose to seek God through them instead of choosing to concentrate on the suffering itself. The poet Annie Johnson Flint, who has blessed my life immensely, from the age of 21 was confined to a wheelchair in intense pain from arthritis - and wheelchairs in the 1800's, not to mention pain relief, were certainly antiquated and uncomfortable. Fanny Crosby was blind, Madame Guyon scarred and weakened by smallpox, Amy Carmichael hurt so badly in a serious fall that she was confined to bed in severe pain for the last 20 years of her life. Her attitude? "See in it a chance to die," she said. And did you know that Charles Spurgeon suffered enormously from headaches and black depressions? Yet each one of them concentrated instead on the One Who chose this path for them, Who "separated" them by it, and were more than conquerors!
Well, I am definitely no Spurgeon! But others are watching us, whether we realize it or not. If they can see a peace-filled loving Christian who worships where they cannot understand, who vigilantly refuses bitterness and self-pity, anger or despair, blessing their caregivers and giving thanks "in all things" they will remember us when their own dark moments come - and dark moments come to everyone.
That remembrance may have eternal significance.
If we will simply (!) give one day at a time to Him, purposing in our hearts to make this one day a day in which our hearts will abide in Him and seek His will in our lives for that one day we will have accomplished the purpose for which He has separated us: that His will may be foremost in our lives.
It is so easy to say, and so difficult to do, isn't it? Whenever I hear someone say the word "simply" I know a hard thing is coming! So, this is my prayer, just for today:
Papa, just for today I choose to allow You to separate me however You desire. I turn it all over to You, trusting Your choices for me. Through Your Holy Spirit I choose to live for You, just for today.
...and please, Papa, help me to live each day like this one. Amen.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010
The last day of the year
It is my custom on the last day of the year to look back and take stock. So far, I have always found more blessings and provisions of safety or recovery or answered prayer than anything else. Yes, I am losing ground, my pain level varies from day to day, and I am losing my hearing. But I have been provided with everything I need and then some, provided with parking places by the door when I'm having a bad day, medications that help, family that is near, and friends who have come through bouts of cancer and depression and still say firmly that God is enough.
And I heartily agree. He is more than enough. He is everything.
"...we also glory in tribulation, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance, and perseverance character, and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." Romans 5:3-5 KNJV
Have you ever gloried in your illness?
I sure haven't!
But reading this verse today, the Holy Spirit stopped me in my tracks.
Perseverance, character, and hope. 3 things obviously valued by our God. And tribulation is the key to developing them.
Wow.
Because being CI means that we are turning to Him more often, seeing His interventions in our lives, more clearly - because AB's are often distracted by their world and the demands made upon them, while CIS are, simply, watching for proof of His hand in our lives. We are actually hoping in His power to keep us and provide for us.
And we are learning lessons about His trustworthiness that can be learned no other way.
To glory in pain and weakness is counter intuitive to most of us - but in the reality of God, it is a proven method of training, a time when His presence and power are sought and released in forceful and deeply felt pleas, a time of closeness and dependence. Should He ever choose to return us to AB status, these lessons will be so ingrained in us, God willing, that our first response to difficulty or tribulation will always and ever be prayer. To glory in weakness is simply rejoicing in being in a position where His power and goodness will come into play on our behalf, vividly, in glorious abundance. And the by-product will be virtues He values becoming a deep integral part of our spirits.
Surely a reason for praise - and glory.
Soooo our CI is earning glory for us as we endure, "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us" Romans 8:18
And I heartily agree. He is more than enough. He is everything.
"...we also glory in tribulation, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance, and perseverance character, and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." Romans 5:3-5 KNJV
Have you ever gloried in your illness?
I sure haven't!
But reading this verse today, the Holy Spirit stopped me in my tracks.
Perseverance, character, and hope. 3 things obviously valued by our God. And tribulation is the key to developing them.
Wow.
Because being CI means that we are turning to Him more often, seeing His interventions in our lives, more clearly - because AB's are often distracted by their world and the demands made upon them, while CIS are, simply, watching for proof of His hand in our lives. We are actually hoping in His power to keep us and provide for us.
And we are learning lessons about His trustworthiness that can be learned no other way.
To glory in pain and weakness is counter intuitive to most of us - but in the reality of God, it is a proven method of training, a time when His presence and power are sought and released in forceful and deeply felt pleas, a time of closeness and dependence. Should He ever choose to return us to AB status, these lessons will be so ingrained in us, God willing, that our first response to difficulty or tribulation will always and ever be prayer. To glory in weakness is simply rejoicing in being in a position where His power and goodness will come into play on our behalf, vividly, in glorious abundance. And the by-product will be virtues He values becoming a deep integral part of our spirits.
Surely a reason for praise - and glory.
Soooo our CI is earning glory for us as we endure, "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us" Romans 8:18
Friday, December 24, 2010
Some thoughts on Christmas
I'm writing this on Christmas Eve, and a dickensian fog has descended on our valley - very rare here in the land of no humidity, but we've had record breaking rains and a whole week of rainy days - swirling and flowing and making Christmas lights glow instead of twinkle. The whole neighborhood has taken on a magical quality - very appropriate for Christmas!
It is my custom each year to meditate a bit on Christmas - its meaning and everything that comes with it.
This year I've been thinking globally.
If you saw the movie "Fiddler on the Roof", there is a scene where the Sabbath is being celebrated - first by the papas, then the mommas, then the sons, then the daughters, and then it spreads to a multitude of households, all offering their Sabbath prayer, all lighting candles, all singing and celebrating the coming of God's Sabbath day.
I've been thinking of Christmas like that - how in each home, city, country, the traditions are different, but all have at their center the Birth. In my mind's eye I see gazillions of homes, hear Christmas carols in a thousand languages, see hearts tender and remembering the Babe Who first opened His eyes on the world He came to save.
The Light of the World shines in each light bulb on each decorated house, in each candle, in each speck of brightness that shines in the darkness.
Smiles light faces instead of frowns, excited children can't wait to dive into the presents, and family traditions reassure us and usher in the holiday with a sense of timeless nostalgia. In our hearts, we all come home for Christmas, even if the family is no longer "home" on earth. God gave us memories to bless us and comfort us while we sojourn here - for this, at Christmas more than usual, reminds us that this is not our Home - and for me, 90% of my family is Home. (They are no doubt listening to the original choir that sang on that first Christmas evening, to threadbare shepherds guarding the Passover lambs.)
I think of Joseph, how he must have been wondering what God was doing when they wound up in a stinky, cold stable, where the manger was carved from cold stone in the side of the cave, their only source of warmth the un-housetrained cows and donkeys, chickens and dogs who shared their space. And then he probably wound up having to deliver Mary, who was not yet his wife in the full sense of the word, and feeling embarrassed and terrified - he was, after all, delivering the Messiah! Alone. And altho he no doubt would have helped sheep or donkeys deliver, this was waaaaaaaaaay different.
And Mary, who was personally told by an angel that she would give birth to Messiah, the King of the universe, perhaps had dreams of giving birth in a royal household, of having her Son welcomed by the Pharisees and Sadducees and religious authorities. Yet somehow she finds herself in an unsanitary, uncomfortable, un-royal stable, alone - no midwife - having to give birth attended by a man who wasn't yet a real husband, but a bodyguard. She was only anywhere from 13 to 16 years old, had probably never seen a birth or been told much about it. God, what are You doing???
All of which tells me that God does not act in ways that we would imagine - He often does things in ways we simply do not comprehend. I wonder what He thinks of what Christmas has become. Certainly there is a lot of hubbub about things that have nothing to do with the birth of the Savior.
But for those of us who look back to His birth with a touch of wonder and adoration, and look forward to the next time He comes, also with a touch of wonder and adoration - and yearning, and being excited children who can't wait to dive into our celestial presents, and impatiently waiting to see The light of the world, face-to-face - the day in itself is a foretaste of the celebration that is to come. For we have opened our hearts - no doubt originally as stinky and cold as that stable - and He, our Savior and King, has entered without hesitation, cleansing us and filling our earthen vessels with a treasure the world at large has ignored. And the world at large is, for this one day of the year, concerned with giving instead of taking, peace instead of strife, and instead of snarling and grabbing and backstabbing, singing the carols of Christmas.
May your difficulties and pain, your limitations and illness, fade a bit during this time - knowing that He is near, He is listening, and He loves you with an everlasting love.
Merry Christmas.
It is my custom each year to meditate a bit on Christmas - its meaning and everything that comes with it.
This year I've been thinking globally.
If you saw the movie "Fiddler on the Roof", there is a scene where the Sabbath is being celebrated - first by the papas, then the mommas, then the sons, then the daughters, and then it spreads to a multitude of households, all offering their Sabbath prayer, all lighting candles, all singing and celebrating the coming of God's Sabbath day.
I've been thinking of Christmas like that - how in each home, city, country, the traditions are different, but all have at their center the Birth. In my mind's eye I see gazillions of homes, hear Christmas carols in a thousand languages, see hearts tender and remembering the Babe Who first opened His eyes on the world He came to save.
The Light of the World shines in each light bulb on each decorated house, in each candle, in each speck of brightness that shines in the darkness.
Smiles light faces instead of frowns, excited children can't wait to dive into the presents, and family traditions reassure us and usher in the holiday with a sense of timeless nostalgia. In our hearts, we all come home for Christmas, even if the family is no longer "home" on earth. God gave us memories to bless us and comfort us while we sojourn here - for this, at Christmas more than usual, reminds us that this is not our Home - and for me, 90% of my family is Home. (They are no doubt listening to the original choir that sang on that first Christmas evening, to threadbare shepherds guarding the Passover lambs.)
I think of Joseph, how he must have been wondering what God was doing when they wound up in a stinky, cold stable, where the manger was carved from cold stone in the side of the cave, their only source of warmth the un-housetrained cows and donkeys, chickens and dogs who shared their space. And then he probably wound up having to deliver Mary, who was not yet his wife in the full sense of the word, and feeling embarrassed and terrified - he was, after all, delivering the Messiah! Alone. And altho he no doubt would have helped sheep or donkeys deliver, this was waaaaaaaaaay different.
And Mary, who was personally told by an angel that she would give birth to Messiah, the King of the universe, perhaps had dreams of giving birth in a royal household, of having her Son welcomed by the Pharisees and Sadducees and religious authorities. Yet somehow she finds herself in an unsanitary, uncomfortable, un-royal stable, alone - no midwife - having to give birth attended by a man who wasn't yet a real husband, but a bodyguard. She was only anywhere from 13 to 16 years old, had probably never seen a birth or been told much about it. God, what are You doing???
All of which tells me that God does not act in ways that we would imagine - He often does things in ways we simply do not comprehend. I wonder what He thinks of what Christmas has become. Certainly there is a lot of hubbub about things that have nothing to do with the birth of the Savior.
But for those of us who look back to His birth with a touch of wonder and adoration, and look forward to the next time He comes, also with a touch of wonder and adoration - and yearning, and being excited children who can't wait to dive into our celestial presents, and impatiently waiting to see The light of the world, face-to-face - the day in itself is a foretaste of the celebration that is to come. For we have opened our hearts - no doubt originally as stinky and cold as that stable - and He, our Savior and King, has entered without hesitation, cleansing us and filling our earthen vessels with a treasure the world at large has ignored. And the world at large is, for this one day of the year, concerned with giving instead of taking, peace instead of strife, and instead of snarling and grabbing and backstabbing, singing the carols of Christmas.
May your difficulties and pain, your limitations and illness, fade a bit during this time - knowing that He is near, He is listening, and He loves you with an everlasting love.
Merry Christmas.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Do I really trust Him?
In October, a friend and I both got pneumonia - she about 2 weeks before me (hence no new devotionals for awhile) This lady has the gift of helps and is one of the kindest people I know, always generous and giving - and a very dear, close friend.
After a few weeks and several antibiotics, she was still very sick, and the pain in her back, which initially had driven her to seek medical help, had not diminished. She was sent for consults and a myriad of tests, then finally for an MRI.
About a year ago, she and her husband had both had lapbands inserted, a procedure that, while reversible, decreases the size of the stomach to lose weight. Unfortunately, they had trusted a yahoo of a doctor, and her husband almost died of an infection from his terrible technique. We thought she was OK.
The MRI showed that the lapband had eroded into her stomach. Gastric juices had been leaking into her belly, causing an infection of the inside of the belly, widespread. Because of the initial doctor's reputation in the medical community, she had a difficult time finding a doctor who would treat her - the lapband obviously had to be removed, the stomach repaired and her peritonitis treated.
This was very serious. Every day increased the damage caused by the erosion. And the danger to her life.
The doc they found "worked her in" a week later, and waited yet another week to operate.
I was furious.
Not normally an angry person, I found myself horribly angry with the doctor, her husband, the world and anything in it. I fumed and fussed internally day after day.
The surgery finally occurred the day before Thanksgiving.
By the next day her temperature was 102, her pulse fast, her breathing labored. My anger increased with the worry.
Of course all this time I had been praying, passing it on to prayer groups all over.
But I was still angry, and didn't know what to do with it. She seemed to be getting sicker by the minute and I was so angry it brought me to tears.
That day and into the night I spent much time praying. Every time I thought of her, I prayed. And that night as I lay in bed, I kept praying.
Then God spoke to me.
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you"
"with her?"
ummm.
"Don't you think I am bigger than her infection?"
"Of course! That was never the question!"
Quietly, "Well then?"
The swift kick in the pants I had needed showed me I was concentrating on the problem, not the Person in charge Who, as much as I hated to admit it, had allowed this thing to befall her for eternal reasons - perhaps something to do with her walk, certainly something to do with mine.
Who was I to get angry over something He had allowed? My personal sense of right and wrong had been offended. I wanted it put right. Now.
But Jesus had something else in mind. He wanted me to learn that, even as He had carefully taught me to leave everything He allowed in my own life in His hands, I was to realize that that also applied to those I loved. And while I could and did pray for those I loved, I was to trust Him with the outcome, and take any fallout emotions of worry (or anger) to His throne. And leave them there - repeatedly, if necessary.
Could I do that?
I'd like to say, as I had said so many times to the Lord, "Of course," but truthfully, it took some time - to think over just where I had gone wrong and to, finally, confess my lack of trust and ask for forgiveness. I had certainly been walking in the flesh, letting my "natural" reactions take the place of my spiritual walk. He showed me that at the first swelling of anger I should have come to Him - with the anger. Instead I had let it enter me, and kept feeding it for the whole time. I should have been praying and trusting Him to do the perfect thing and thanking Him for controlling the situation.
I'm sharing this because, at least for me, it is so easy to slip into the human ways of thinking - to worry, to carry anger deep in our hearts ( and I mean deep), to handle things in our own strength, to pray without listening for feedback ( which I do all too often). Finally He had to forcefully enter my thoughts to get my attention.
Prayer needs to be a two-way communication. We need to listen.
And if you have never heard the Lord before, I want to tell you that it is no great echoing voice as Charlton Heston portrayed it. It is words you hear in your head, with your own voice, only the thoughts are certainly nothing that you would begin to think to say to yourself. The words often convict or correct, sometimes to speak comfort in a time of need, sometimes to, lovingly, as He did with me, kick you in the pants and screw your head on straight.
Perhaps by my sharing my easily-led-astray heart with you, it will help you to avoid the same pitfalls, and to remind you that, in all things, He is to be trusted. Just because we can't understand why something bad happens to good people, it is no excuse for a lack of trust. He is either Lord of your life, or you are. There is no in-between spot you can cling to, no balancing-on-the-fence act that you can tolerate for long.
And if you are busy being Lord of your own life - well then, you need a swift kick in the pants.
------------------
PS The morning after Jesus straightened me out, her temperature came down, her breathing returned to normal, and she felt much better. In fact, she was discharged the next day.
We serve an Awesome God.
After a few weeks and several antibiotics, she was still very sick, and the pain in her back, which initially had driven her to seek medical help, had not diminished. She was sent for consults and a myriad of tests, then finally for an MRI.
About a year ago, she and her husband had both had lapbands inserted, a procedure that, while reversible, decreases the size of the stomach to lose weight. Unfortunately, they had trusted a yahoo of a doctor, and her husband almost died of an infection from his terrible technique. We thought she was OK.
The MRI showed that the lapband had eroded into her stomach. Gastric juices had been leaking into her belly, causing an infection of the inside of the belly, widespread. Because of the initial doctor's reputation in the medical community, she had a difficult time finding a doctor who would treat her - the lapband obviously had to be removed, the stomach repaired and her peritonitis treated.
This was very serious. Every day increased the damage caused by the erosion. And the danger to her life.
The doc they found "worked her in" a week later, and waited yet another week to operate.
I was furious.
Not normally an angry person, I found myself horribly angry with the doctor, her husband, the world and anything in it. I fumed and fussed internally day after day.
The surgery finally occurred the day before Thanksgiving.
By the next day her temperature was 102, her pulse fast, her breathing labored. My anger increased with the worry.
Of course all this time I had been praying, passing it on to prayer groups all over.
But I was still angry, and didn't know what to do with it. She seemed to be getting sicker by the minute and I was so angry it brought me to tears.
That day and into the night I spent much time praying. Every time I thought of her, I prayed. And that night as I lay in bed, I kept praying.
Then God spoke to me.
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you"
"with her?"
ummm.
"Don't you think I am bigger than her infection?"
"Of course! That was never the question!"
Quietly, "Well then?"
The swift kick in the pants I had needed showed me I was concentrating on the problem, not the Person in charge Who, as much as I hated to admit it, had allowed this thing to befall her for eternal reasons - perhaps something to do with her walk, certainly something to do with mine.
Who was I to get angry over something He had allowed? My personal sense of right and wrong had been offended. I wanted it put right. Now.
But Jesus had something else in mind. He wanted me to learn that, even as He had carefully taught me to leave everything He allowed in my own life in His hands, I was to realize that that also applied to those I loved. And while I could and did pray for those I loved, I was to trust Him with the outcome, and take any fallout emotions of worry (or anger) to His throne. And leave them there - repeatedly, if necessary.
Could I do that?
I'd like to say, as I had said so many times to the Lord, "Of course," but truthfully, it took some time - to think over just where I had gone wrong and to, finally, confess my lack of trust and ask for forgiveness. I had certainly been walking in the flesh, letting my "natural" reactions take the place of my spiritual walk. He showed me that at the first swelling of anger I should have come to Him - with the anger. Instead I had let it enter me, and kept feeding it for the whole time. I should have been praying and trusting Him to do the perfect thing and thanking Him for controlling the situation.
I'm sharing this because, at least for me, it is so easy to slip into the human ways of thinking - to worry, to carry anger deep in our hearts ( and I mean deep), to handle things in our own strength, to pray without listening for feedback ( which I do all too often). Finally He had to forcefully enter my thoughts to get my attention.
Prayer needs to be a two-way communication. We need to listen.
And if you have never heard the Lord before, I want to tell you that it is no great echoing voice as Charlton Heston portrayed it. It is words you hear in your head, with your own voice, only the thoughts are certainly nothing that you would begin to think to say to yourself. The words often convict or correct, sometimes to speak comfort in a time of need, sometimes to, lovingly, as He did with me, kick you in the pants and screw your head on straight.
Perhaps by my sharing my easily-led-astray heart with you, it will help you to avoid the same pitfalls, and to remind you that, in all things, He is to be trusted. Just because we can't understand why something bad happens to good people, it is no excuse for a lack of trust. He is either Lord of your life, or you are. There is no in-between spot you can cling to, no balancing-on-the-fence act that you can tolerate for long.
And if you are busy being Lord of your own life - well then, you need a swift kick in the pants.
------------------
PS The morning after Jesus straightened me out, her temperature came down, her breathing returned to normal, and she felt much better. In fact, she was discharged the next day.
We serve an Awesome God.
Friday, October 22, 2010
it's Time to talk about suicide
"Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed, and in your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there was none of them." Psalm 139:18
I recently spoke with a dear friend whose illness often drains the life from her, and the darkness closes round and she simply wants it all to end. I know how pain, mental or physical or both, can steal the sunlight from our days and haunt our nights. Sometimes it seems they cannot be borne.
If you are contemplating this way out, my advice to you is : DON'T DO IT!
Do not let the evil one, the king of liars, infect your soul with the desire.
God has a great plan for your life, It sometimes feel like that is not true.
But it is,
The devil wants you to think it will just end and it will all be over. Instead, you will be facing a Holy God Who wants to know why you took the gift He gave you and threw it away. If you don't know Him already, please visit my church's website and find out how to know Him. http://www.ccgreenvalley.org/knowHim.aspx Please believe me when I say that you are loved by a Being Who created you for joy, Who has watched every breath you have ever taken, Who has seen every rotten, secret thing you have ever done and Who, in spite of it all, loves you so much He died rather than live without you. If you doubt that statement, ask Him to show you His love, ask Him to open your eyes to see - and then watch for His love to be shown to you - because He will move heaven and earth to gather you into His arms and comfort you.
There is another reason I beg you not to end your life:
Suicide kills.
It kills every person left behind that knew you - that misses you, You will personally destroy any and all of your family and friends who cared.
Each one will wonder every day, "Did I say/do something that caused this? Am I to blame for this wonderful person leaving us?" Your parents will go over and over and over your last conversations " Could I have picked this up? How could I not have known? What did I do wrong.?"
The questions will go on and on for the rest of their lives , and there will never, ever be any answers because you took them all with you.
For the rest of their lives they will live with the pain you chose not to deal with - you will multiply it one hundredfold on every person who ever knew/loved/cared for you.
I know people living in this hell. I hear from one in particular every year on the day they found her son dead by his own hand.
That was 20 years ago.
It never ends.
When your pain seems to have reached beyond what you can bear, talk first to Jesus about it. You don't have to be fancy, just be yourself - talk to Him the same way you would talk to anybody else. Then read Psalm 139 and see how very much God does care about you. You did not happen by chance, you were not a mistake, you were known by God even before the moment the spark of life entered the egg. You were planned. And this illness is part of the plan.
God has entrusted you with something hard. It isn't easy to face the hard things day after day without let up, alone, perhaps home bound or wheelchair bound. So many things you used to do to bring joy to your heart you are no longer capable of doing. But He is there with you, walking each day with you, as close as breathing.
Pain carries darkness in its back pocket. It will swallow you whole if you let it. Instead turn to Jesus and let His light flow in.
But how do I do that?
The best way I have found is through worship, praise, and prayer.
When you know Jesus Christ personally, despair is not an option - it cannot survive with faith alongside it. They are mutually exclusive because, with God there is always hope, and nothing - nothing is impossible to Him.
Tell God how awful everything is face to face - exactly the way you would to a friend, because He is the best friend you will ever have. Offer the sacrifice of thanksgiving, especially when you can find nothing to thank Him for - thank Him anyway. Think of all of God's attributes, His holiness, His mercy, His love Open your heart to Him.
If the pain is too bad, talk to your doctor about increasing pain meds. If the pain is not physical, talk to your pastor - he can tell if you need a referral to somewhere to get help.
DON'T TRY TO FACE THIS ALONE.
Jesus knows all about pain. Physically He died one of the most painful kinds of deaths there are. He was alone, truly alone in the universe for the first and last time in all eternity. He was spat on, they pulled out His beard, they ripped His back to pieces with a whip which had rocks and nails in it to tear and shred. It was designed to cause the most pain and the most blood loss.
He knows well about pain.
He wants to carry it with you,
Please, please, please -
Let Him,
I recently spoke with a dear friend whose illness often drains the life from her, and the darkness closes round and she simply wants it all to end. I know how pain, mental or physical or both, can steal the sunlight from our days and haunt our nights. Sometimes it seems they cannot be borne.
If you are contemplating this way out, my advice to you is : DON'T DO IT!
Do not let the evil one, the king of liars, infect your soul with the desire.
God has a great plan for your life, It sometimes feel like that is not true.
But it is,
The devil wants you to think it will just end and it will all be over. Instead, you will be facing a Holy God Who wants to know why you took the gift He gave you and threw it away. If you don't know Him already, please visit my church's website and find out how to know Him. http://www.ccgreenvalley.org/knowHim.aspx Please believe me when I say that you are loved by a Being Who created you for joy, Who has watched every breath you have ever taken, Who has seen every rotten, secret thing you have ever done and Who, in spite of it all, loves you so much He died rather than live without you. If you doubt that statement, ask Him to show you His love, ask Him to open your eyes to see - and then watch for His love to be shown to you - because He will move heaven and earth to gather you into His arms and comfort you.
There is another reason I beg you not to end your life:
Suicide kills.
It kills every person left behind that knew you - that misses you, You will personally destroy any and all of your family and friends who cared.
Each one will wonder every day, "Did I say/do something that caused this? Am I to blame for this wonderful person leaving us?" Your parents will go over and over and over your last conversations " Could I have picked this up? How could I not have known? What did I do wrong.?"
The questions will go on and on for the rest of their lives , and there will never, ever be any answers because you took them all with you.
For the rest of their lives they will live with the pain you chose not to deal with - you will multiply it one hundredfold on every person who ever knew/loved/cared for you.
I know people living in this hell. I hear from one in particular every year on the day they found her son dead by his own hand.
That was 20 years ago.
It never ends.
When your pain seems to have reached beyond what you can bear, talk first to Jesus about it. You don't have to be fancy, just be yourself - talk to Him the same way you would talk to anybody else. Then read Psalm 139 and see how very much God does care about you. You did not happen by chance, you were not a mistake, you were known by God even before the moment the spark of life entered the egg. You were planned. And this illness is part of the plan.
God has entrusted you with something hard. It isn't easy to face the hard things day after day without let up, alone, perhaps home bound or wheelchair bound. So many things you used to do to bring joy to your heart you are no longer capable of doing. But He is there with you, walking each day with you, as close as breathing.
Pain carries darkness in its back pocket. It will swallow you whole if you let it. Instead turn to Jesus and let His light flow in.
But how do I do that?
The best way I have found is through worship, praise, and prayer.
When you know Jesus Christ personally, despair is not an option - it cannot survive with faith alongside it. They are mutually exclusive because, with God there is always hope, and nothing - nothing is impossible to Him.
Tell God how awful everything is face to face - exactly the way you would to a friend, because He is the best friend you will ever have. Offer the sacrifice of thanksgiving, especially when you can find nothing to thank Him for - thank Him anyway. Think of all of God's attributes, His holiness, His mercy, His love Open your heart to Him.
If the pain is too bad, talk to your doctor about increasing pain meds. If the pain is not physical, talk to your pastor - he can tell if you need a referral to somewhere to get help.
DON'T TRY TO FACE THIS ALONE.
Jesus knows all about pain. Physically He died one of the most painful kinds of deaths there are. He was alone, truly alone in the universe for the first and last time in all eternity. He was spat on, they pulled out His beard, they ripped His back to pieces with a whip which had rocks and nails in it to tear and shred. It was designed to cause the most pain and the most blood loss.
He knows well about pain.
He wants to carry it with you,
Please, please, please -
Let Him,
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Hedges
"So Satan answered the LORD and said, 'Does Job fear God for nothing? Have You not made a hedge around him, around his household, around all that he has on every side?..." Job 1:1,2a NKJV
I've been thinking a lot about hedges lately.
Hedges can be many things. They are protection - they help keep things out.
But they also keep things in.
Hedges hide things. And some hedges are fruit bearing.
I remember as a kid walking home form school past a hedge with berries.
I think every kid in the fifth grade knew that hedge.
We'd stop and gather a few on the way home. They were crisp and purple and slightly sweet. They flowered beautifully in the spring, and we kept a close eye on their progress.
The girls would snatch a few and move on. The boys would grab a handful and have berry fights, leaving the sidewalk full of purple splotches. Or they'd throw them at us girls, leaving us full of purple splotches.
More than one hedge enclosed dogs that barked and snarled like they had rabies, and their hedges bore larges signs with red letters that said BEWARE OF THE DOG. Some of them sounded so scary I would cross the street before I got to that house.
Some hedges had flowers. Some had thorns. Some had flowers and thorns.
Some hedges enclosed private gardens, with sweetly burbling fountains heard clearly through the hedge.
CI is a type of hedge.
Sometimes it has thorns that prick and nettle. Sometimes they scratch and make us itch. Sometimes they are so tall we can see nothing but our illness. Sometimes they "hedge us in" so tightly we have no room to move and nowhere to look - except up. And sometimes they protect us in ways we will never know until heaven.
I began to wonder if my particular hedge held the snarling dog or the secret garden.
I discovered that sometimes it holds one, and sometimes it holds the other.
There are times when all I can do is look up - when the pain is winning or the fatigue is battering or my muscles are aching or I can't focus my thoughts enough to accomplish anything. That dog is snarling in my ears and I must either look up or huddle in the darkness.
There is One Whose presence can quiet the snarling and barking and replace them with a life-giving fountain of Living Water that burbles and freshens my spirit like nothing else can.
It all depends on where I'm looking.
If I concentrate on the hedge itself, I feel confined and deprived and ready to huddle in the darkness and pity myself for my "hard lot".
If I look up, my spirit can fly free and recognize that if Jesus picked this hedge for my life, it must be good, as all He does is good. He has things for me to learn that can be learned no other way. For my particular kind of soul needs these lessons given in this way, whereas someone else can perhaps learn them on an easier path.
Where Job's hedges kept all of his wealth and his children and his choices, they also limited him in the paths he could choose, and he learned well which ones to choose because of his love of his God. When the hedges were moved ever closer and closer, and began to hedge things out and him in, the lessons he had learned earlier stayed with him. He refused to curse God and die,as his loving wife counselled him. Instead he continued to talk to God, asking for a judge Who could translate for God what it meant to be human, how hard he had tried to "be good" and how unfair it was for a nice guy like him to have to suffer so much.
At one point he said "Why is light given to a man whose way is hidden, and whom God has hedged in? For my sighing comes before I eat, and my groans pour out like water...I am not at ease, nor am I quiet; I have no rest for trouble comes." [Job 23,24,26 NKJV]
Yet after God comes and questions him, Job realizes he spoke of things of which he had no knowledge, things which were too great for him.
And so do I when I question the hedges He has enclosed me with - truly I have no idea why He chose them for me, what He is accomplishing by them, how long they will last.
But I have learned that when I cannot understand, I am to trust. When the going gets rough I am to worship. When I cannot stand another moment, I am to throw myself upon Him and offer the sacrifice of praise when it is the last thing I feel like doing. And I pray that my hedge will be one of the ones that bear fruit.
When the sons of Abraham say a blessing, it always begins with, "Blessed art Thou O LORD God, King of the Universe, Creator of (whatever the blessing entails "fruit of the vine" or "the growing of grain for bread" or "the giving of life"or "the hedges that enclose me") I often begin my prayers that way because it reminds me that the King of the universe is my God, that all things are possible to Him, that He created me, and chose this hedge for me. All the ways of the LORD are good.
Even this.
Selah.
I've been thinking a lot about hedges lately.
Hedges can be many things. They are protection - they help keep things out.
But they also keep things in.
Hedges hide things. And some hedges are fruit bearing.
I remember as a kid walking home form school past a hedge with berries.
I think every kid in the fifth grade knew that hedge.
We'd stop and gather a few on the way home. They were crisp and purple and slightly sweet. They flowered beautifully in the spring, and we kept a close eye on their progress.
The girls would snatch a few and move on. The boys would grab a handful and have berry fights, leaving the sidewalk full of purple splotches. Or they'd throw them at us girls, leaving us full of purple splotches.
More than one hedge enclosed dogs that barked and snarled like they had rabies, and their hedges bore larges signs with red letters that said BEWARE OF THE DOG. Some of them sounded so scary I would cross the street before I got to that house.
Some hedges had flowers. Some had thorns. Some had flowers and thorns.
Some hedges enclosed private gardens, with sweetly burbling fountains heard clearly through the hedge.
CI is a type of hedge.
Sometimes it has thorns that prick and nettle. Sometimes they scratch and make us itch. Sometimes they are so tall we can see nothing but our illness. Sometimes they "hedge us in" so tightly we have no room to move and nowhere to look - except up. And sometimes they protect us in ways we will never know until heaven.
I began to wonder if my particular hedge held the snarling dog or the secret garden.
I discovered that sometimes it holds one, and sometimes it holds the other.
There are times when all I can do is look up - when the pain is winning or the fatigue is battering or my muscles are aching or I can't focus my thoughts enough to accomplish anything. That dog is snarling in my ears and I must either look up or huddle in the darkness.
There is One Whose presence can quiet the snarling and barking and replace them with a life-giving fountain of Living Water that burbles and freshens my spirit like nothing else can.
It all depends on where I'm looking.
If I concentrate on the hedge itself, I feel confined and deprived and ready to huddle in the darkness and pity myself for my "hard lot".
If I look up, my spirit can fly free and recognize that if Jesus picked this hedge for my life, it must be good, as all He does is good. He has things for me to learn that can be learned no other way. For my particular kind of soul needs these lessons given in this way, whereas someone else can perhaps learn them on an easier path.
Where Job's hedges kept all of his wealth and his children and his choices, they also limited him in the paths he could choose, and he learned well which ones to choose because of his love of his God. When the hedges were moved ever closer and closer, and began to hedge things out and him in, the lessons he had learned earlier stayed with him. He refused to curse God and die,as his loving wife counselled him. Instead he continued to talk to God, asking for a judge Who could translate for God what it meant to be human, how hard he had tried to "be good" and how unfair it was for a nice guy like him to have to suffer so much.
At one point he said "Why is light given to a man whose way is hidden, and whom God has hedged in? For my sighing comes before I eat, and my groans pour out like water...I am not at ease, nor am I quiet; I have no rest for trouble comes." [Job 23,24,26 NKJV]
Yet after God comes and questions him, Job realizes he spoke of things of which he had no knowledge, things which were too great for him.
And so do I when I question the hedges He has enclosed me with - truly I have no idea why He chose them for me, what He is accomplishing by them, how long they will last.
But I have learned that when I cannot understand, I am to trust. When the going gets rough I am to worship. When I cannot stand another moment, I am to throw myself upon Him and offer the sacrifice of praise when it is the last thing I feel like doing. And I pray that my hedge will be one of the ones that bear fruit.
When the sons of Abraham say a blessing, it always begins with, "Blessed art Thou O LORD God, King of the Universe, Creator of (whatever the blessing entails "fruit of the vine" or "the growing of grain for bread" or "the giving of life"or "the hedges that enclose me") I often begin my prayers that way because it reminds me that the King of the universe is my God, that all things are possible to Him, that He created me, and chose this hedge for me. All the ways of the LORD are good.
Even this.
Selah.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
East of Eden
"The LORD God planted a garden eastward in Eden; and there He put the man whom He had formed."
Genesis 2:8 NKJV
I think God has an affinity for gardens.
He could have begun the world anyway He chose.
Instead of starting it out impersonally, drearily striking primordial ooze with a stray bolt of lightning (which, incidentally, doesn't make life) He chose to carefully prepare a glorious creation. He made unimaginably complex and beautiful plants and animals and an intricate footprint of life called DNA, which even a "simple single-celled organism" contains - thereby cancelling the concept of a "simple single-celled" anything.
He prepared so carefully for man, with grasses to soothe bare feet, and trees to shade them (and provide perches for singing birds to please them.) He made animals small and great, some utilitarian and some, I think, just to make us laugh aloud with joy - seriously now, a rhinoceros? With sheets of metal skin and that horn on its nose? Have you ever really looked at a giraffe? A duck-billed platypus? A raccoon? Plus He made some to astound us with size - Elephants and grizzly bears- and beauty - Bengal tigers or leopards or majestic lions. Some were small and cuddly looking, like Koalas and spider monkeys. And some are soft and furry - loving kitties or doggie companions. He even made tiny bugs intricately - aerodynamically-challenged bumblebees that don't know they can't fly and happily buzz their days away. Hummingbirds that defy flight patterns by doing it backwards and upside down. And that giver of summer magic, the firefly - sparkling in the long summer grasses on hot, sticky evenings.
Each one of these were Hand crafted lovingly for the delight of the last ones He made: mankind. Man is the only created being with an awe and appreciation of beauty, who gazes in wonder at redwood forests and giant Sequoias and seaweed forests filled with colorful animals. It has always amazed me that His fish have abundant, heart stopping color - as do corals of all shapes and sizes - and yet the color disappears the deeper you get in the water. It waited for man and his artificial light sources to see the corals at their finest - and deeper yet, submersible subs that go so deep there is no light at all - except for the animals themselves, pulsating with glorious neon lights that thrill the spirit.
The sheer diversity of life and its stunning complexity will often drop me face down before Him in awe.
And yet, this beautiful, glorious, heart-stoppingly amazing world around us is tainted and broken, thanks to Adam - and if this is broken and tainted, what must Eden have been? What will heaven be? We can't even begin to imagine the answers to those questions - and all of it is for our delight.
How His Father-Heart must have delighted in the finishing touches - giving that animal especially soft fur for cuddling, and then tacking that wee light onto the firefly's bottom, no doubt seeing generations of future children thrilling to this wonder-filled dancing light on lawns and gardens.
When days are long and difficult, filled with pain or infirmity, it's hard to get jazzed over a few twigs and bugs. But the more I meditate on God's love of beauty, the more I begin to see that He is in the process of "beautifying" me! The pain makes a wonderful sandpaper for bringing out those rough things that need to be smoothed. My self-centered heart needs to learn to look beyond today's difficulties and see the beauty He has promised to us as He changes us, not from scuzbag to less scuzzybag, but "from glory to glory" (how that phrase astounds me!) The garden He is planting in our heart is a secret place where He comes, as of old, in the coolness of the evening, to join us and refresh us after a bad day. He even speaks of the dangers of "roots" of bitterness, and how "love of money" is the "root" of all evil. And yes, it is possible to have a love of money even when you have none. Perhaps especially when you have none. It is then that the temptation to bend rules to acquire money has its greatest power.
There are weeds of the soul as well as weeds of the soil - and the locusts of pain and fear can make the soul as barren as any empty dry field.
For me the comfort comes in knowing that He Himself planted that first garden. And He Himself planted the one that is growing, right now, in my heart of hearts. And when things go bad, the pain is ferocious, or I have stumbled so badly I'm struggling with guilt and shame, He is there, in the garden, waiting for me with open arms.
And He waits for you, too - just a little east of Eden.
Genesis 2:8 NKJV
I think God has an affinity for gardens.
He could have begun the world anyway He chose.
Instead of starting it out impersonally, drearily striking primordial ooze with a stray bolt of lightning (which, incidentally, doesn't make life) He chose to carefully prepare a glorious creation. He made unimaginably complex and beautiful plants and animals and an intricate footprint of life called DNA, which even a "simple single-celled organism" contains - thereby cancelling the concept of a "simple single-celled" anything.
He prepared so carefully for man, with grasses to soothe bare feet, and trees to shade them (and provide perches for singing birds to please them.) He made animals small and great, some utilitarian and some, I think, just to make us laugh aloud with joy - seriously now, a rhinoceros? With sheets of metal skin and that horn on its nose? Have you ever really looked at a giraffe? A duck-billed platypus? A raccoon? Plus He made some to astound us with size - Elephants and grizzly bears- and beauty - Bengal tigers or leopards or majestic lions. Some were small and cuddly looking, like Koalas and spider monkeys. And some are soft and furry - loving kitties or doggie companions. He even made tiny bugs intricately - aerodynamically-challenged bumblebees that don't know they can't fly and happily buzz their days away. Hummingbirds that defy flight patterns by doing it backwards and upside down. And that giver of summer magic, the firefly - sparkling in the long summer grasses on hot, sticky evenings.
Each one of these were Hand crafted lovingly for the delight of the last ones He made: mankind. Man is the only created being with an awe and appreciation of beauty, who gazes in wonder at redwood forests and giant Sequoias and seaweed forests filled with colorful animals. It has always amazed me that His fish have abundant, heart stopping color - as do corals of all shapes and sizes - and yet the color disappears the deeper you get in the water. It waited for man and his artificial light sources to see the corals at their finest - and deeper yet, submersible subs that go so deep there is no light at all - except for the animals themselves, pulsating with glorious neon lights that thrill the spirit.
The sheer diversity of life and its stunning complexity will often drop me face down before Him in awe.
And yet, this beautiful, glorious, heart-stoppingly amazing world around us is tainted and broken, thanks to Adam - and if this is broken and tainted, what must Eden have been? What will heaven be? We can't even begin to imagine the answers to those questions - and all of it is for our delight.
How His Father-Heart must have delighted in the finishing touches - giving that animal especially soft fur for cuddling, and then tacking that wee light onto the firefly's bottom, no doubt seeing generations of future children thrilling to this wonder-filled dancing light on lawns and gardens.
When days are long and difficult, filled with pain or infirmity, it's hard to get jazzed over a few twigs and bugs. But the more I meditate on God's love of beauty, the more I begin to see that He is in the process of "beautifying" me! The pain makes a wonderful sandpaper for bringing out those rough things that need to be smoothed. My self-centered heart needs to learn to look beyond today's difficulties and see the beauty He has promised to us as He changes us, not from scuzbag to less scuzzybag, but "from glory to glory" (how that phrase astounds me!) The garden He is planting in our heart is a secret place where He comes, as of old, in the coolness of the evening, to join us and refresh us after a bad day. He even speaks of the dangers of "roots" of bitterness, and how "love of money" is the "root" of all evil. And yes, it is possible to have a love of money even when you have none. Perhaps especially when you have none. It is then that the temptation to bend rules to acquire money has its greatest power.
There are weeds of the soul as well as weeds of the soil - and the locusts of pain and fear can make the soul as barren as any empty dry field.
For me the comfort comes in knowing that He Himself planted that first garden. And He Himself planted the one that is growing, right now, in my heart of hearts. And when things go bad, the pain is ferocious, or I have stumbled so badly I'm struggling with guilt and shame, He is there, in the garden, waiting for me with open arms.
And He waits for you, too - just a little east of Eden.
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