Boogers Beware

yellow paint brush on gray steel bucket
Photo by Francesco Paggiaro on Pexels.com

It was time to repaint the twins’ bedroom and replace the drab, flat paint with something more appealing and easier to clean.  We began the process of preparation, which I consider the worst part of painting: shoving furniture, taping off borders and window frames, etc.  Blah!  It was while we were wiping down walls that I came across a portion of wall that my cleaning rag snagged on.  I rubbed and rubbed but the particles were in-penetrable.

Frustrated, I asked the young girls, “What is this?  Do you know what this is?”

They looked a little sheepish and nodded.

“Well?”

“It’s boogers.”

“What?”

“Boogers.  We wiped them on the wall.”

“You wiped them on the wall?”

They nodded again.

“Why?!”

They shrugged their slender shoulders.  “We don’t know.”

If boogers could be patented and sold as an adhesive we would be millionaires.

“Why bring up boogers, Christi?  It’s gross.”

Yes it is.  You should try scrubbing crusty ones off a wall.  Or better yet, challenge yourself not to puke when you see a kid pluck out a long, slimy snot and in one swift movement, pop it in his mouth.  Gives me the shivers just thinkin’ of it.

I bring up boogers in honor of “cold and flu season”–so named by the powers that be in the world in which we live and everyone who’s looking forward to cashing in on our being ill.

Recently, Laura and I were folding clothes when she says, “Mum, I need to tell you something.”

She said it in the tone that makes a mother’s heart sink into her belly.

I looked her in the eye.  “What?”

“I have a little sore throat.  I had it yesterday and thought maybe I slept with my mouth open and it’d go away.  But it didn’t.  I still have it.”

And so began the snowball of sneezing, coughing, sore throats, throbbing, stuffy heads, restless nights, etc.  We all fell like Dominoes–except for Bob.  I’m glad that he dodged the bullet.

Anyone who’s been reading my blog for any amount of time knows that I’m getting built up in the Word and pushing to break out of this world’s beliefs and things we automatically accept as true.  Like, giving our doctors all of our family’s history knowing full well that every physical affliction any relation of ours has ever had is going to be looked for in our own life…and we should expect to get their disease.  I don’t like that.  Jesus paid with His blood, His very life to deliver us from every curse, family oriented or otherwise.  This I say in the midst of nose blowing and coughing.  Ahem.

We have prayed.  Rebuked.  Anointed.  Took communion (and various herbs and cough syrups).  Made proclamations.  Etc., etc.  Anyone who’s been reading my blog for any amount of time would also know that it is usually at this point in the battle that I get a little frustrated because it isn’t over yet.  Not this time.

I’ve decided God’s Word is true.  It is His will to heal.  It’s bought and paid for.  And He can not lie.  Toying with unbelief has cost me too much.  Jesus said, “It is finished.”  Could I not believe Him?  Even when I stumble, could I at least approach Him like the loving father on behalf of his son and say, “LORD, I believe.  Help my unbelief”?

woman with black dots on face
Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

God has given insight, some of which came from my mom in the form of a conversation she recently had with a friend.  Mum wants to look into it further, but it was about black spots on the mind.  You know, things we keep returning to mentally that we shouldn’t.  We girls had one of those.  Well, several.  But one in particular.  See, Laura was hesitant to tell me about the sore throat because of the awful ordeal we suffered almost exactly two years ago.

We had been camping, our last trip of the season as I recall.  Rachel had a cold.  I didn’t give it much thought at the time.  We all have colds.  They pass.  Right?  Wrong!  We all fell down, even Bob.  All of us were on antibiotic (which is a rare occasion in this house) and we girls, twice.  We tried everything.  I can’t tell you how many nights I heard creaking on the stairs only to find one of my girls awake, sitting on the couch, with tear-filled eyes.  She could not sleep because she couldn’t breathe or she couldn’t stop coughing.  On and on it went like this.  The sleepless nights did ease up but we still had symptoms as late as Easter.  Mind you, this began the September before.  Getting a cold now to us is like the equivalent of seeing a bee after being stung and having a terrible reaction.

That thought struck me.  I took out my anointing balm, the one that smells a bit like cloves or cinnamon and a little piece of Heaven.  I went into the twins’ bedroom and anointed all of us.  I prayed something like this: “We have this black spot on our minds, LORD.  Every time we’re sick we return to this place and fear and dread come up inside of us.  I’m asking You to take Your finger and stick it on the black spot and make it white.  Heal the memory of what we went through.  Banish discouragement and fill that place with hope.”  I envisioned that mentally.  (Perhaps you want to take a moment to do that now with a thought/memory that’s been plaguing you.)

While walking in the process of healing this time around, I’ve been saturating my mind with scriptures, testimonies, and Christian music.  A phrase that turned up twice in one day was: Focus on the LORD; not the problem, not the trial, not the suffering.  Focus on the LORD.  The last time I stomped around this mountain I couldn’t focus on anything but my kids’ suffering and how I could make it stop.  I was operating out of fear, not faith…and that’s probably an active war zone for most parents.  I had to come to the place of letting go.  I have done all I could do.  Do I trust God or don’t I?

I have gone on to life as normal to the best of my ability.  Various couples in our church are hosting small group ministries.  I’ve joined one that I am thoroughly enjoying and didn’t want to miss this week’s chapter.  I resigned myself to going no matter how I felt.

Laura asked, “Isn’t there something in the Bible about being healed as they go?”

“Yes.  It’s about the 10 lepers who cried out to Jesus and He told them to go show themselves to the priests and the Bible says they were healed while they went.”

“I pray that for you tonight.”

I took her hopeful prayer for me to heart.

I was glad Bob joined me that evening and drove because I felt awful.  My head ached, my throat hurt, and I felt overall awful.  I spoke very little.  Still, I enjoyed the class and hung on to Laura’s prayer.  I would not let defeating discouragement take root in me.  When we came home, I sat in my glider chair to decompress a bit before bed and simply pondered the evening’s events.

I don’t know how many times over the course of this whole trial I said, “I believe Your Word, LORD.  No matter what it looks like or what it sounds like, I believe Your Word.  I am healed.”  I also coveted the flowering faith of my daughter concerning me and did not want her to be disappointed.

The pressure in my head ceased.  My sinuses opened up.  I still felt a little funk in my throat but the searing pain was gone.  I didn’t take any cough syrup that night and went to bed rejoicing.  It was the best night’s sleep I had.

As I said before, this faith walk ain’t no cake walk but the preciousness of it is increasing inside of me.  What an adventure!

Join me today in taking God at His Word.  When everything gets melted down in the pot, His Word is the only thing that’s going to remain.  Let’s get as much of it into us as we can so we can withstand life when the heat is on.

In light of today’s topic, I leave you with one of our Veggie Tales favorites.  We watched a lot of Veggie Tales silly songs during the midnight hours 2 years ago.  Hope you enjoy it.

p.s.

If you have something that will not stick, put a little booger to it 🙂 .

As the Scriptures say,

“People are like grass;
their beauty is like a flower in the field.
The grass withers and the flower fades.
But the word of the Lord remains forever.”  1 Peter 1:24-25  NLT

Be blessed with health!

Erase

person holding brown film
Photo by Viktoria Alipatova on Pexels.com

I was outside taking pictures one day but it was incredibly difficult to see the screen due to the blinding sun.  With my old 35 mm camera I could clearly see through the window all of the time.  But with my digital camera, it’s a crap shoot as to what’s going to show up.  I came inside, out of the sunlight, and began scrolling through the pictures I’d taken.  Some of them were awful.  Since a few of the pictures weren’t worth developing, choosing “erase” was a no-brainer.  In a matter of seconds the undesirable pictures were gone.  That’s when I thought again about my old 35 mm and the surprise pictures I found after development.  Some of those candid pictures turned out to be my favorites.  Some of them, however, truly were awful, especially the ones where I accidentally took a picture of one of my fingers 😦 .  Sometimes the choice to “erase” comes in handy.  Sometimes I wish that button existed in real life.  Or, do I?….

Years ago I happened upon the end of a movie that made me pause to wonder much about the decisions we make, regrets, etc.  The gist of the movie was a middle-aged woman goes back in time to when she became pregnant to her boyfriend (who she ended up marrying) right at the end of her high school years.  As her present life was in a whirlwind of heartache, changing those decisions from so long ago seemed a given…at first.  Perhaps what she hadn’t anticipated was newfound insight and hope for her relationship with her husband, who was at the source of much of her pain, and the realization that without their union, her children would not exist.

When the movie ended, I remember contemplating decisions I had made and experiences I have had as a young, single woman, then as a wife, and finally as a mother.  What choices would I change?  What memories would I erase?  Or, like the main character in the movie, would I let all be as it was?

I felt the LORD nudging me to share a dream with you.  Problem is, it was in a journal–of which I have dozens.  I knew I would find it post-marriage and child-bearing years but, short of that, I didn’t have a clue where to look.  And that was a lot of years to cover.

“Show me which journal, LORD.”

I got a picture in my mind and dug out that journal.  My world was tilted when it contained one of the bitterest memories I have as a young wife and mother.  Truth be told, I had trouble sleeping that night and cried the next day.  The memory didn’t slice me to the quick as it had in its origin, but it still created heartache all over again, only this time for different reasons.  Had I handled the situation the best way possible?  Was there anything I could have done differently Then?  And what kind of effect might it have on Now?

I browsed through another journal, one written nearly a decade later.  The one containing the dream.  I had been a “hot mess”, to coin a phrase.  Junk, cares of this life, were swirling all around me like a raging sea, threatening to take me under.  What’s really crazy is that at the same time I was enjoying an unbelievable outpouring of revelation.  I guess the enemy was working real hard to steal the revelation as soon as God was giving it to me.  I was receiving encouragement from anointed ministers but desired a personal word.

“LORD, speak to me.”  He gave me a dream.

I dreamed:

The moderator from our home school group of years ago gave me pictures to capture some of the memories our family made with the group–but it turned out to be so much more than that.

What she gave me was colorful and a little larger than an average postcard in size and weight.  It dropped down to reveal 4 connected panels.  While I gazed at the top picture, an incredible thing happened.  The picture came alive and played like a movie.  There were scenes of our 5 family celebrating at what looked like an Independence Day celebration at night, complete with fireworks.  It was beautiful.  There was a video of Bob, surrounded by the kids whenever he helped at the co-op.

couple sitting on concrete dock
Photo by Brady Knoll on Pexels.com

Every picture was different and morphed into short videos.  I saw me with the girls when they were babies and toddlers.

In one video, I was leaning over Rachel.  I was wearing a light pink, long-sleeved shirt with powder blue jeans.  My hair was down.  I looked so very young and pretty and…thin.  I got the impression that I was changing a diaper but there was no video of the soil.

Then I backed up to a window.  The sun was shining so bright.  I got closer and closer to the light until I looked like a celestial being.  My form was still there but I was totally illuminated.  The beauty of that particular frame amazed me.

I turned and tugged up the middle sash and climbed out of the ground floor window with the aid of some people outside from our home school group.  They were playing in a sandbox.  When I arrived, toddlers Laura and Beth immediately descended upon me, arms outstretched.  I fell within their reach, we were laughing….

That was one of the most beautiful dreams I have ever had.  I kind of liken it to stories I’ve heard of people who say their lives flashed before their eyes when they’ve had near death experiences.  My personal home movies dream recorded only the happiest times of my life.  And it showed me totally illuminated with sunlight.  I think it was God’s way of saying, “That’s how I see you, Christi.  Perfect and glorified.  Encased in Light, with only those things joy-filled surrounding you.”

At a time when most of my life felt like a mess, it was refreshing to have this dream.  I got a glimpse of what my Creator Father sees when He looks at me.  He sees no failure, sadness, or darkness, but perfection, joy, and light.  The same is true for you.  But will we believe it and live in it?

I’ve been people watching lately.  You know what I see?  A lot of broken people.  I can tell by the way they carry themselves, the way they interact with others, the way they speak about themselves and others.  Beth was reminding me recently about a girl they know who referred to herself as “trash” when speaking with their peers.  This bothered them so much that Laura decided she needed a God reminder as to who she is.  The next time “trash” exited her mouth Laura told her: “You are not ‘trash’.  You are fearfully and wonderfully made.”  The girl didn’t utter that again, at least not in their presence.

What grieves me the most is that this is in the church, the body of Christ.  It doesn’t take any imagination to see the reality of pain behind the eyes of believers.  We do experience pain.  After all, we are in this world.  But we are not to be of this world.  At some point and time we must figure out how to exit the world’s natural response to pain and begin operating in the supernatural.

While searching my journals for the dream I shared, I found where Beth had encountered a not-very-nice girl and declared, “And if she is mean to me again, I’ll show her!”

I couldn’t imagine what revenge lurked in the mind of a 5 year old.
“I’ll be nice and kind to her no matter how mean she is.  She’ll see!”

What an example of how to supernaturally handle pain.  I thought how pure and how child-like was the love of a 5 year old; her idea of revenge being unmerited kindness.  Remaining child-like, now that’s an unending challenge.  The hardness, cynicism, pain of life, and toil on the journey of healing take their toll.  Sadly, I’d venture to say that being an innocent 5 year old is a distant memory for many of us.

I guess that’s why it’s important to drop the notions of might’ve been, should’ve been, could’ve been, and all of those tangled, messy memories that cause us reason to question and regret.  So much unnecessary suffering.  Once the stuff has been dealt with, couldn’t we leave it with Jesus instead of insisting on remembering it and all of the pain accompanying it?  Wouldn’t it then be refreshing and gratifying to take out the pictures and movies that God gives to us?  We need reminded that He sees perfection, joy, and light and wants to fill us with hope.

Join me today in the Herculean effort of trusting God to make healing balm out of the painful goop in our lives.  A balm that will not only bring healing to us, but to everyone we touch as well.  Also, may we be able to find praise in the pain.

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.  Romans 8:28 KJV

Daddy

close up photography of gray and black cat
Photo by Amanda Linn on Pexels.com

I love my dad.  As a matter of fact, I’d go so far as to say that anyone that doesn’t like my dad has some kind of mental deficiency.  One of my closest friends, who knows my family well, agrees.  Is it because he is without his faults?  No…but don’t tell him that 🙂 .  One of the things that bothered me most growing up was how he handled emotional upsets: he laughed.

For instance, I had a cat named Stripes that followed me around like a dog.  Short of being able to bark, I think he thought he was one in the canine family.  He sprawled on the keyboard while I practiced my music lessons.  Mum let him in my room to greet me every morning.  If I wasn’t out of bed yet he’d wrap his body around my head like a pair of ear muffs and purred until my eardrums vibrated.  Wherever I was, there one would normally find him.  Then came the morning that Stripes did not come.  He would never come again.  My dad scooped him up and buried him before I saw his demise but this is how my dad handled it: “There was Stripes on the road this morning.”  I can smile now but I found it highly disconcerting at the time.  Being an adult, and having a husband of my own now, I guess I understand better why Dad handled many of the hard things of life with jokes, teasing, and laughter.  I honestly wonder if serious conversation was modeled to him in his own life.  I wonder if men in general are equipped to handle life’s heartbreaks for themselves let alone those around them.  

My dad was my hero.  And in many ways, he still is.  I remember the evenings we spent counting out the hits we exchanged while swatting a birdie back and forth in the front yard playing badminton.  When I needed a chocolate fix, we hopped in his pickup truck and he took me to the little local restaurant where I had my choice candy bar.  In retrospect, I think he took me for his own sake as well as mine– a young woman needing chocolate can be quite contentious.  He attended my chorus concerts.  He verbally blessed me (and my brother).  He was welcoming.  It was not unusual for us to link arms when we were out shopping.  Though he was a terrible pick–often leaving me to cry, “Mum, make him stop!”–I loved him and knew that he loved me.

My dad has given me many wonderful and memorable gifts over the years.  But the ones I consider most precious are those which are priceless.  Dad gave me his time.  Our home had a lot of laughter that was enhanced with his mining tales that began, “There I was…”  One of the most cherished gifts he gave me is tears.  My dad has unashamedly cried in worship, in prayer, and in repentance in front of me.  Even though he may not have initiated “deep” conversations, I didn’t doubt that I could go to him and trust him with my heart because he made himself totally transparent in his tears.  Our society today has done a great disservice to men and everyone in their circle by the stigma that a man who cries is weak.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  Men who are willing to pull back the veil and cry, and let others witness it, are the strongest men out there.

Jesus wept.  John 11:35  KJV

“Oh, that’s just Jesus,” some say.  “He was weak.”

No, He was meek.  Meekness is power under control.  There’s a vast difference between weakness and meekness.

brown wooden cross
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I don’t know too many men who would voluntarily suffer rejection and humiliation for ungrateful people.  I don’t know any who could endure beard plucking, hair pulling, spit in the face, punches to the body, 39 lashes with a whip that most likely contained pieces of bone, shards of pottery, etc., a crown with at least inch thorns pressed into his skull, and spikes driven into the hands and feet.  Now that is a strong Man.  And that strong Man wept.  He walked in gentleness.  He forgave.  He loved to the tune of His own selfless pain.

Jesus, the Son, was the true image of God, the Father.  God gave everything, everything, so that He could be our Father.  He gave His perfect, beloved Son so that we could be adopted as children.  What are we doing with His great grace?  Ignoring it.  Wallowing in our own wounds and our own pain instead of taking it to the only One who can do anything about it.  It cost God everything so that we could crawl into His lap and get rid of all the sin, shame, disappointment, unmet expectations, festering wounds– everything and anything that would hinder us, but we won’t do it.  It has been my observation that men in particularly won’t yield because it’s a “sign of weakness”.  No, seeking help, leaning into God the Father, is one of the greatest appeals to strength that there is.  To not know God as Father is to never truly know who we are.  If we don’t know who we are, we will not know where we are going.  If we don’t know where we are going, we will never arrive.  

light sunset people water
Photo by Negative Space on Pexels.com

We had been outside playing in our big back yard.  Our then 2 1/2- 3 year old twins were adorable in their jackets and matching black fleece “Amish” hats.  It was cold and time to come in.  I brought up the rear, following with my camera, and snapped one of my favorite pictures.  My 6’3″ husband had a girl, one tiny hand clasped by one of his “bear paws” on either side of him.  They were dwarfed by him, but they were safe in his hands.  Nothing or no one would dare harm one of his little girls while they were at his side.  What a picture of total safety and trust.  And love.

Many of us have the understanding that Jesus cried out, “My God! My God! Why have You forsaken Me?” because God could not look on Him in our sins that He took upon Himself.  This may be so.  But I heard another take.  God could not look on Jesus in that moment because if He did He would have removed Jesus from the cross and wiped out mankind because of what we’d done to His only begotten Son.  But He didn’t do it.  Why?  Because He loves us.  You.  Me.  But we won’t receive it.  Why?  I don’t know.  Maybe, like me, you had a great dad but you have trouble receiving the love of God because you feel undeserving.  Maybe you have issues with your earthly father that prevents you.  Maybe their failings, their abuse, their being absent emotionally/physically has distorted your view of what heavenly Father looks like.  Then it’s our duty, all of us, to find out who He really is.

Think about the ramifications of not humbling ourselves before God.  Think of the effects on our lives.  If we’re not willing to approach Father God with this prayer for ourselves, couldn’t we at least do it for the sake of those broken around us?

“Dear God, my father here didn’t look like You, not much if at all.  But I want to know You, the true You.  I need a dad who really loves me for who I am, my junk and all.  I need somebody to be in my corner.  I need somebody to tell me that they’re proud of me.  I need somebody who actually believes that I have a future and it is a good one.  I need hope.  I need love.  I need forgiveness.  I need to be made whole.  I need to be a light to those around me.  And I need Someone to teach me how.  Will You do this for me?  Please be my dad.  Show me who You are so that I know who I am.  Lead me where You will.  In Jesus’ name, thank You.  Amen.”

Before you uttered His name, your heavenly Father was off the throne (in the form of the Holy Spirit), racing to you with open arms.  All He ever wanted was you, just as you are.  All He ever wanted was to be believed and accepted and loved.  When will we give Him what He wants, so that He can fill us with all of the good things that we want, that He desires for us?  We were made for so much more.  When will we realize this and walk in it?

Join me today in going to God as Father while it is still light.  There is a day approaching when darkness will be upon all the land.  I beg of you, don’t wait until that day to seek Him.

 

Restoration

clear glass decor photography
Photo by Kirsten Bu00fchne on Pexels.com

They killed it.  The big, picture-perfect maple in my neighbor’s front yard was sawed off to a 6 foot stump.  I thought, “You have got to be kidding me!  A gorgeous tree like that and you go and destroy it.  For what?”

Our great old oak with its gnarly looking bark and some dead branches gets more respect than that beautiful maple.  We are doing what we can to see that the oak goes by way of nature or it doesn’t go at all.  That’s how much we respect and appreciate our tree.  I feel the same about our huge black walnut tree.  We see creation for what it is: a marvelous gift from a loving, benevolent, infinite Creator Father who appointed us as caretakers.  Looking at that flat-topped, bleak stump in my neighbor’s front yard made me feel a little sick and a lot sad.

Fast forward.  I was admiring my neighbor’s tree yesterday.  I do that often.  The story I told you happened years ago.  I thought they killed the tree, but they didn’t.  It grew back in record time.  I couldn’t believe it.  It’s grown to be as big and beautiful as it was before it was chopped.  It remains picture-perfect and gorgeous.  Maybe even more so to me now that I know what it went through.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about broken people and things that look hopeless.  That stump of a tree is a picture of how I feel about some circumstances I’ve run up against in my own life.  I find that I’ve been grieving for things that I desperately longed for that haven’t come to pass, things that look like they’ve been chopped off.  At times I have limped through life without having quite the beauty of the types of relationships and the things that I dreamed of.  And hope….I guess I’m in a battle between two pictures in my mind: the sawed off stump and the big, gorgeous tree.

The vision of the sawed off stump kind of makes me feel like this clip from my all-time favorite movie, The Princess Bride.

 

The picture of the restored tree is much like a scripture I revisited today.  I love how this passage is written under the title of “Seven Blessings”.

nature sky clouds field
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

Joel 2:23.  You children of Zion, rejoice exuberantly!  Rejoice in the LORD your God!  For He has given you the Teacher of acts of loving kindness and 1 the Teacher will cause the rain to come down for you, the former rain and the latter rain as at the first.  (Double Blessing)  24. 2  And the floors will be full of wheat and the vats will overflow with wine and oil. (Abundance) 25. 3  And I shall restore to you the years that the locust, the canker worm, the caterpillar, and the palmer worm have eaten, (Restoration) My great army which I sent among you.  26. 4  And you will eat in plenty and be satisfied, (Never a Lack) and praise the name of the LORD your God, Who has dealt wondrously with you, (Miracles) and My people will never be ashamed.  (Respect)  27.  And you will know that I AM in the midst of Israel, (Divine Presence) and I AM the LORD your God, and no one else is, and My people will never be ashamed.    Joel 2:23-27  ~The One New Man Bible 

I read this and I think, How, LORD?  How do you restore the stolen innocence of a child?  How do you restore the love between husbands and wives who have caused each other so much pain?  How do You restore the faith of someone who lost a loved one prematurely?  How, LORD?  How do You take shattered hearts, and splintered hopes, and broken dreams, and make them whole?  How do You restore years?  That one there is a total mystery to me.

Actually, it’s all a mystery.  But I recognize some steps I can take to prepare for the process of restoration, something I look forward to experiencing.

  1. Walk in forgiveness.
  2. Continue to love even when I feel it’s impossible.
  3.  Fight for faith when I feel all faith is gone.
  4. Speak the Truth despite what I feel and see.
  5. Wait.

Those are my responsibilities.  The how isn’t up to me.  I’m glad it isn’t because I’d screw it up.  Not to mention, I kind of look forward to seeing how God is going to do this.  How Look around at the splendor, beauty, and diversity of His creation.  He is a God who definitely thinks outside of the box.  If He can do wonders with trees, what will He do for me?  For you?  For we are the crown of His creation. 

I humbly come to you today, Dear Heart, and tell you that I have been facing the death of so many dreams recently.  Despite the pain of this grief, I choose to believe.  I continue because of His Word, because He who promised can not lie.  I continue to cry out to Him, to lay my brokenness at His feet, because He alone can restore.

Join me today in faith believing that the battles that are ripping our guts out now will bring great glory to Jesus as we triumph over them later.  We are not meant to live in brokenness, Beloved.  We are meant for so much more.  We were made to be whole.  I’m so glad He’s not done, I have much more living and loving to do.  And so do you.

To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for his own glory.  Isaiah 61:3  NLT

A “Wenting” We Will Go

brown and black mountains at golden hour
Photo by RAJENDRA DHARASHIVKAR on Pexels.com

Years ago, I had a wart on the bottom of my foot.  The wart itself didn’t cause me an unbearable amount of pain, but it didn’t feel good, either.  I wanted it removed and was willing to do what was necessary despite the harsh nature of the cure.

Every night I religiously soaked my foot in warm water and used a sanitized safety pin to dig at the wart until it hurt too much to dig anymore.  It irritated me, I was irritating it.  I don’t remember how long this went on but I still remember the pain.  I faithfully dug hoping that every night would bring healing.  When I reached the point of squeezing my eyes shut or my jaw ached from clenching it, I put away the pin and ended that night’s session of self-inflicting pain.  Then, lo and behold, one evening I saw a little thing that looked like a broken splinter.  I dug it out along with white flesh and marveled at how tiny it was, this root that caused my grief.  My foot remained a little tender due to all of my digging, but it healed relatively fast and there was an immediate amount of relief simply because the root was gone.  Thank the good LORD, the wart never did come back.

This is the story that came to mind when Mum told me she thought she knew what I was doing.

Mum says to me several weeks ago rather cheerily, “I think I found out what you’re going through–you’re ‘wenting’!”

She has a book she’s been reading forever, (I think avid readers and the studious all have at least one “forever” book), called  A Cry for Miracles by Lindsay Roberts.  When she picked it up this time it was about Lindsay and her battle of faith concerning the healing of her gall bladder.  Boy, was it a battle!  Finally, her father-in-law basically says to her, “I think I’ve got some insight for you.  I think you’re wenting.”

Even before Mum explained I had an inkling.  Here’s the verse that it’s based on:

 As he entered a village there, ten men with leprosy stood at a distance,  crying out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

 He looked at them and said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed of their leprosy.  Luke 17:12-14  NLT

green leaf plant
Photo by Couleur on Pexels.com

Later, Lindsay was given a powerful word from the LORD in a make-up  room.  Lindsay was about to testify to a healing she definitely did not feel, wondering how she was going to get through it, when a young girl spoke to her.  She said the disease was cut off at the root but there were still green leaves, a little life left that satan could try to use to cause her to doubt God’s word and His touch pertaining to the healing of her gall bladder.  The thing could be nursed back to life by Lindsay’s words if she received the doubt, but it was dead and it would remain so if she maintained her faith.  What an extraordinary revelation!

The word Lindsay received was reminiscent of my day on the trampoline, looking at the remnants of the poison ivy.  I knew I heard the LORD.  I knew I was healed.  So why was I still looking at such ugly skin?  Because the war in my body was over but healing takes time.

I was encouraged…then satan immediately came to steal this liberating word.  I fretted, wondering if I’d given life to remaining green leaves on dead plants.  Just as immediately, Holy Spirit reminded me of a little heart-shaped plaque I have that simply reads: What God reveals, He heals.  Every time I read it, it reminds me that He reveals what I need when I need it.  These words of “wenting” and green leaves are in perfect time.  I have not harmed myself.  I must trust that He protects me until He brings revelation and I can receive it and guard it.  Then His words become part of my fabric and give me the strength to continue to believe until I see the manifestation of that which I’ve held onto for such a long time.

So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.  Romans 8:1  NLT

We have been going through so much lately, but the point is, we’re going through.  “Wenting” can be a lot like digging at that wart.  It physically hurt!  But it had to come out.  With discipline, consistence, determination, and sheer grit, I met that end goal, I plucked out that root.  I immediately had relief and in a couple of days one would have never known the suffering my poor foot endured.  Freedom from that wart was not an illusion, it was a reality.  But I had to persevere through a painful process to see that reality.

That’s how faith is.

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.  Hebrews 11:1

I didn’t see the root, not until it surfaced.  But I believed it was there and knew it had to come out if I wanted to be healed.  So as painful as it was, I persisted.  Belief, and living out that belief, can be very difficult, but that’s the only way to bring to fruition the promised word.

art carving close up crown
Photo by Mike on Pexels.com

In 1 Samuel, Chapter 16, David was anointed by Prophet Samuel to be king of Israel.  It didn’t happen right away, though.  As a matter of fact, he wasn’t anointed king of all of Israel until 2 Samuel, Chapter 5.  Here’s the highlights of what happened until then:  He appeased an angry King Saul with his harp.  He went back to the fields and killed a lion and a bear who came to destroy his sheep.  He fought and killed a giant named Goliath.  He hid out in caves while being hunted down like an animal by an envious King Saul.  His merry band of men threatened to kill him when they returned to find their city burned and their families taken captive.  This was his “wenting” from the field to the throne.

Some of our lessons are absolutely necessary to position us for our destiny.

Some, well, aren’t.  They’re a product of our own doing.  The Israelites weren’t supposed to circle the mountain for 40 years.  The journey from Egypt to the Promised Land would have been 11 days.  But instead of digging out the bad roots, such as doubt, complaining, forgetting God’s goodness and coming against those who believed, they circled and circled and circled until all of the doubters, whiners, and naysayers died.  That’s not exactly the way I want my story to be written.  How ’bout you?

Amazingly, I’m finding greater veins of joy and peace in the process of “wenting”.  The things of God are becoming rooted deeper and deeper even as He tears up the roots of the things that don’t belong.  Although this process can be incredibly painful, I’m excited to see the end result.

Like David, God desires to take us from the back fields and seat us on the thrones in the kingdoms of His choosing, those places He has hand-picked that we may fulfill the plan and purpose He has for us.  Are we willing to “went” like David did?  Are we willing to face the lion, the giant, the envious reigning king, and those closest to us who turn on us?  Are we willing to let Him remove the roots that would prevent us from our Promised Land?  Will we remain steadfast in what He has called us to do, forsaking all, so that we can live in the peace of being in His perfect will?  Tough questions indeed.  Questions that beg to be answered.

Join me today as we consider the before mentioned questions.  And let’s seek direction and discernment concerning root digging and “wenting”.  I don’t know about you, but I do not wish to “went” any longer than necessary.

antique close up decoration diamond

Remember: As counter-intuitive as it seems, praise is key while digging and “wenting”.

Let’s raise a sacrificial HALLELUJAH while He sees us through the process.

 

 

God bless you in your “wenting”.

Label Me Not

man lights legs silhouette
Photo by Tookapic on Pexels.com

Ours is a thrifty family.  We are huge fans of yard sales and second hand stores.  Even if I could afford to buy the moon one would still find me in places with the permeating scent of storage.  I thrive on the the thrill of the hunt for finding that unique item that screams my name or the name of someone I love.

I’ve noticed an irritating thing as of late.  People hosting yard sales are beginning to point out brand name items.  Much to my chagrin, stores like Goodwill have been doing this for years and charging ample fees to go along with the name–despite the fact that it’s used.  But, at yard sales?  Look, it’s your business if you want to pay $100 for your purse but I’m not paying more than $5 for it, brand name or not.  I  don’t care what label it bears.  The question is, Do I like it?  I don’t buy names.  I buy style–mine.

Years ago we had a friend who had brothers.  One was diagnosed with cancer.  Ever since requesting prayer for him, when our friend would speak of his brothers, he’d say, “You know, the one with cancer.”  It didn’t sit on me quite right then, but links to people such as this have become even more aggravating to me.  With negative diagnosis, bullying, harsh criticism, and the like seeming to be more and more prevalent, so are the relationships between people and labels.  It’s maddening.  I mean, who wants to be known as, “The brother with cancer”?  Why not the one with the great personality?  The wonderful sense of humor?  Or even, the one that’s older than me?  Why, “the one with cancer”?

Listen to people talk.  Hear them tell of their relationship to others.  My friend who suffers from depression….My aunt who committed adultery….My father the drunk….As a follower of Christ, am I not adding to spiritual chaos and people’s demise, and perhaps my own, by participating in unholy labeling?

The LORD really began talking to me about this some months ago.  I could hear Him saying, “Don’t let that become your identity.  My people have got to stop letting certain things become part of their identity.  You’re giving too much away.”

As if to reiterate this, while this phrase was strong on me, I was watching a Christian program that I often view.  A woman was sharing her story of how she was diagnosed with, you guessed it, cancer.  Do you know what the LORD told her?

“Do not let this diagnosis become part of your identity.”

To obey, she posted scriptures all over her home and saturated her mind, her mouth, and her heart with what God said pertaining to her.  She battled and she won.

Our enemy has sunk his claws in even deeper.  At Bible study one night, someone mentioned grandparents living here in the United States who were anxiously awaiting the birth of a grandchild in Canada.  When the blessed event came, the couple refused to tell the grandparents what sex the child was because they wanted “it” to decide.  That’s so much better, letting a child be an “it” until “it” can figure out what “it” is.  That’s right, leave it to adults to cause mass confusion in a child’s life from birth.  Let me help you out: if “it” has certain equipment and/or certain chromosomes, “it” is male or female.  “It” may be confused, most likely thanks to you, but “it” most assuredly has an identity.

I feel sorry for people who truly struggle with this type of thing due to circumstances beyond their control.  Maybe they were born with multiple sex characteristics.  (However, scientists state that despite multiple sex characteristics, children will naturally gravitate toward the sex they were created to be).  Or maybe they were abused in such a way that they feel they are shielding their identity by changing it.  That pain is real and my heart goes out to these people.

What I can’t wrap my mind around is adults, parents, doing this to babies whose sex organs and chromosomes are clearly evident.  Doing this to a child, made with a distinct identity and purpose by God, is like telling a watchmaker that he built a rowboat.  You can say what you want all you want but it won’t change the truth.  A boy is a boy.  A girl is a girl.  A watch is a watch.  A rowboat is a rowboat.  Each destiny will never wholly be fulfilled if the purpose has been distorted.

So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.  Genesis 1:27 NKJV

We are playing right into our enemy’s hands with this mentality and we’re doing it to another human being from birth.  Isn’t life confusing enough, hard enough, without trying to figure out what sex you are?  Did we have to add something absolute onto the pile of unknowns that they are going to face?  What if this child is diagnosed with cancer like our friend’s brother?  Like the woman on the t.v. program that I watch?  With what will they fight when it took them so many years to decide what sex they are and perhaps they aren’t sure even now?  Where will they get their clarity?  From what will they draw a solid identity?

photo of person standing on rock formation
Photo by Casia Charlie on Pexels.com

Whoever comes to Me, and hears My sayings and does them, I will show you whom he is like:  He is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when the flood arose, the stream beat vehemently against that house, and could not shake it, for it was founded on the rock.  But he who heard and did nothing is like a man who built a house on the earth without a foundation, against which the stream beat vehemently; and immediately it fell. And the ruin of that house was great.”  Luke 6:47-49  NKJV

We are to derive our identities from the Word of God because it is a solid foundation.  We are to hear His sayings and do them so that we will not be shaken.  So you come from a family of alcoholics, does that make you one?  So you were abused, does that mean you will be an abuser?  So you were plainly born a female, are you suddenly a male?  So you grew up “poorer than dirt”, as we country folk say, does that make you poor?  Not necessarily, not according to God’s Word.  If we hear His Word and do His Word we won’t live in alcoholism, abuse, confusion, or poverty.  We might have visited those places, but we don’t have to live there.  Those places might come to visit us, but we don’t have to let them stay.

I remember inquiring about a home years ago.  The woman asked where I live.  I told her.

She said, “No one living there could afford my house.”

My spine immediately stiffened as she judged me simply by my address.  “You have no right saying such things,” I said in rebuke.  “You don’t know me.”

“You’re right,” she acquiesced, “I don’t know you.  I guess someone living there could afford my house.”

Guess what, even if we could have afforded that place 😉 I wouldn’t have given her the pleasure of selling it to me.

Aren’t ya tired of being put down?  Aren’t ya tired of doctors cursing you with your family’s medical history every time you see them?  Aren’t ya tired of satan, your accuser, going before God saying he has a right to you because of something your ancestors did a 100 years ago?  Aren’t ya fed up living according to the world’s system, accepting their distorted ideas, when you could be filled with the Truth?   I am.  We must listen to God.  What is He saying about us?

Satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy.  He is looking to label us.  Ultimately, he has come to steal our identities.  And he is doing it through: grim diagnosis, unjust words, past mistakes and/or outright sins, family history, ignorance, political correctness, the list could go on.  How do we combat that?  Listen to God.  He came to give us life and life more abundantly.  Say that rather than anything else.  And post it all over the house until you get this:

“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.”  Romans 12:2  NKJV

Do what the lady with cancer did, dig through the Bible and post the words He gives to you.  Meditate on them, say them, believe them.  Let them become your identity.

Join me today in getting the Word of God concerning us personally in our heads, seal it in our hearts, and speak it from our mouths.  That’s the only way we’re going to triumph over the enemy of our souls.

I’ll close with a song from Lauren Daigle pertaining to what God has to say about us.  LISTEN.  Have a blessed day.

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.  John 10:10 NKJV

Stand Fast

 

broken heart love sad
Photo by burak kostak on Pexels.com

My jaw fell open.  It stayed that way for so long that a colony of flies could have taken up residence.  I felt frozen, standing there in front of my canned foods, cradling the phone to my ear.

Another Christian down, two of them.  One known only in our circle, the other is well known.  No longer Christians.  No longer followers of Christ.  Two things immediately came to mind:

Now the Holy Spirit tells us clearly that in the last times some will turn away from the true faith; they will follow deceptive spirits and teachings that come from demons.  1 Timothy 4:1  NLT

A falling away from the church was my first thought.  And the second, a picture.  A picture of Jesus at the Last Supper, telling His disciples one would betray Him.  They all asked, “Is it I, LORD?”

Whenever I am tempted to elevate myself in my self righteousness, yes the temptation does come, I think of this statement based on 1 Corinthians 15:8-10: But for the grace of God, there go I.  There go I to the brink, the abyss, the precipice, that place of precarious balance where I find myself when my heart is melting within my chest because of the crushing blows that life sometimes brings upon me.  If not for His hand…there go I…to the bottom….

Judge those who leave the faith?  No.  I’ve walked on what felt like hot sands with no shoes.  I’ve been put to the fire; I expect it will be thus for as long as I live.  So deal another blow to one who already hasn’t the strength to pick up their head?  No.

I couldn’t wait for the morning to come after the devastating news, the loss of more followers of Christ, to sit and talk with Jesus.  I needed comfort and wanted to comfort my LORD.  I sat with a cup of tea, the Word open upon my lap, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, LORD.  I’m sorry You’ve been wounded yet again by someone turning away from You.  I’m sorry for all of the times I have been angry with You when You have only had my best interest at heart.  You have always loved me even when I have been angry and faithless and so incredibly bound by selfishness.  Forgive me!  Forgive these ones who have gone away.  Turn them back to You, LORD, and keep me from turning away.  I could, You know.  But I don’t want to.  I don’t know how to live without You and I don’t ever want to know.”

I’m still crying.  I feel the loss as if they were my own.  And aren’t they?  Aren’t we, who have accepted God as Father and Jesus as Savior, brothers and sisters in Christ?  Uh, the anguish….

It is in hearing these things that I begin inspection of my own spiritual life.  How am I doing?  Am I sinning?  Am I unrepentant?  Am I hurting and unwilling to talk to God about it?  Have I quit being vigilant where the Word is concerned?  Have I allowed false doctrine to enter in?  Am I rejecting Truth in any way?

lest we forget cross
Photo by Eric Smart on Pexels.com

Listen, this is not an introspection as unto condemnation.  Christianity was never supposed to be about condemnation.  It’s about a God, a Father, Who gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever would believe in Him would not perish but have everlasting life.  Christianity’s foundation was and is meant to be love for God is Love.

People forget that He is a Father with laws.  Guess what?  I’m a mother with laws.  I forbid my children to cross the street alone when they were little.  Do restrictions make me unloving?  No.  It is because of my love for my children that they were and are not permitted to do certain things.

People also confuse God with people.  He is not a person that He should lie.  He is faithful and true.  It is not His fault that people commit horrible acts.  “Oh, but He could stop them.”  Can I prevent my children from using illicit drugs?  No.  “But God can do anything.”  He will not go against the will of man.  Will He protect me from the will of some men?  Yes, and He has.  And I believe we have been spared from things that we will never know about ’til the other side of glory.  But will He go against His own Word?  His character?  No.

All He ever wanted was to be loved.  All He ever wanted was a family.  In the quiet of the evening, He walked and talked in the garden with Adam and Eve.  I believe He looked forward to that fellowship more than they did.  I say that because I know my own heart.  I know how busy I can become, how easy it is to say, “Later, LORD…Tomorrow, LORD…  Not now, LORD.”  Then I realize days have passed since I have sat in the quiet and listened.  How long has it been since I sat in His presence and breathed?  Thanked Him, adored Him, worshiped Him, appreciated Him?  How long?  See?  See how it goes?

We would have God be the villain of all.  How soon we forget that we have an adversary who hates mankind simply because we are made in the image of God. He’d have us all for lunch it weren’t for God’s staying hand.  Look around, satan is eating more and more of humanity everyday.  Why are we surprised?  We don’t need God anymore, at least that’s what we told Him.  Despite the heavy traffic, we’ve decided to jeopardize our safety and cross the road without Him.  What’s so hard to understand, then, as to why there is so much evil in the world when we are rejecting the only One Who was/is truly good?

That is why when news comes of someone leaving the faith, and it comes more frequently than I care to hear, I re-evaluate myself–get myself a spiritual check up.  I’d rather get it all done on this side of Heaven than the other side.

So fear the Lord and serve him wholeheartedly. Put away forever the idols of your ancestors… Serve the Lord alone.  But if you refuse to serve the Lord, then choose today whom you will serve. Would you prefer the gods your ancestors….? Or will it be the gods… in whose land you now live? But as for me and my family, we will serve the Lord.”  Joshua 24:14-15  NLT

Today I have given you the choice between life and death, between blessings and curses. Now I call on heaven and earth to witness the choice you make. Oh, that you would choose life, so that you and your descendants might live!  Deuteronomy 30:19 NLT

If you have not chosen Jesus, if you have not chosen life, I sincerely pray that you will.  Warning: Living for Christ is not a cakewalk.  You will be persecuted.  Promise. However, God will never leave you nor forsake you and you’re in good company–no one was persecuted more than Jesus Christ.  Life’s hard anyway, you might as well travel with the only One who loves you unconditionally.

If you have chosen Jesus and you’re on that precipice, please let Him hold you.  Please.  Please do not forsake the One Who has never forsaken you.  I know it feels impossible, but it isn’t, because with God all things are possible.  No matter  what you’ve done or what’s been done to you, you are loved and you are not alone.

Join me today for quiet, personal reflection and prayer for the weary and the lost.