Fear Be Gone

Today I am vaguely aware of an unsettled feeling. I dug a little deeper and recognized fear.

I don’t want it to be there, but fear is lurking in my subconscious just below the surface …enough for me to feel the unrest of a simmering soup pot of unwieldy emotions.

Simmering, not boiling.

But something’s cooking.

I guess it’s the unevenness of my life… some stuff doesn’t get done.

Okay...Let’s be honest here. A lot of stuff is right now not getting done.

And I am writing a blog.

And I’m resting, because I’m supposed to be resting or I’ll regret it.

You know, I was the girl who liked getting in every assignment in school, perfecting every grade, cleaning the house, controlling my surroundings.

I know life’s not like that.

Well, maybe someone’s life is like that.

But not mine.

I realize I have chosen anything but control and perfect order.

And usually I thrive on the excitement and level of faith this chaos forces me into.

I usually love that it forces me to rely on Jesus and I get to see miracles.

But I falter when that voice inside starts in with the “who do you think you are?” rhetoric…

And I wonder if my tight-rope walk is more me than Him and if He is really going to come through for me when I am probably even now failing Him.

Again.

Today, God is for me.

Be silent fear.  Love, wash over the imperfections of my life and drown out everything else.

Today, I will trust and not fear.

My Kids Can Do Anything (and other things I've learned)

Wisdom I’ve gained from prolonged weakness:

1.My kids can do anything.

I’ve always been a delegator… I mean do you know anyone else who gives their two year old a daily chore? My one year old “helps” put away the plastic cups from the dishwasher and groceries (she’s soo cute. Today she had a brick of cheese and she says”heb-y” for heavy.)
But I digress.

I have discovered through weakness the need to delegate on a new level. And you know? I’ve found if I can provide vision and direction (and even sometimes when I can’t) my kids can learn to do it. Just the need is enough. And they amaze me. The weaker I am, the stronger they have become. They have developed so many great skills and are so proud of the contributions they make to our home and each other, as well they should be.

2. Cleanliness is relative

… (and right now my relatives are struggling with it. Just joking! )

What I mean to say is that the standards I used to keep have had to be adjusted. I have had to prioritize, and that means we clean the kitchen first, so we can stay healthy. We haven’t done so well with the corners, the closets, and the barn or the dusting. Some days it really seems we are almost caught up, then other days we seem to be barely getting by. But the good news is we’re still happy. I used to keep the standards. Now I just keep praying and receiving more grace.

3. I’m really a proud person.

I have always been able to produce, and I’ve been proud of this. Now on days when I’m blessed to get out of bed, I am humbled. I am poor in spirit. And that’s a good thing. And when my teens fly through with their perpetual round of friends to feed and house for the night, I am humbled anew because at times they get to step across food on the floor, use a dirty bathroom, get their drink next to a pile of dishes, and squeeze past Mount Laundry on their way through. Sometimes I am so humbled I can’t even stand to watch. The old me would have been bustling about fixing and cleaning. The new weakened me often gets to have a conversation with a young group of God-lovers.

4. Less is the new more

Doing less has allowed me to evaluate the life I used to live through new eyes. My Lord has shown me that my mothering has very little to do with the work I accomplish on their behalf, as I always used to believe. In fact, if my limbs did not work at all ( and I’m so grateful they do) I would still be able to be a loving mother by the choices I make for them personally and spiritually, and the way I run my home.

II Corinthians 12:7-9 Because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me—to keep me from exalting myself!

Concerning this I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me. And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.”

Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.

I Wish I'd Never Been Born!

Like the ripple of a pebble on a pond, our actions have never-ending consequences. I remember as a child watching the Jimmy Stewart classic, “It’s a Wonderful Life!” in black and white. Clarence the angel, answers the main character’s prayer for help in a desperate time with a gift, “the chance to see what the world would be like if you had never been born…”

George Bailey, a nobody and failure in his own eyes, gets to see that his entire world would be eerily changed for the worse if he had not been in it. Choices he had made to sacrifice for others which he had either forgotten or not acknowledged are suddenly un-done. George was a man who stood against evil to his own peril (and sometimes almost regretted it). His actions had radically changed his world and he didn't even know it.

Our lives make an immeasurable difference that we cannot calculate this side of Heaven.

I love this movie because I think the theme is one of those poignant lessons we can never learn well enough. Our lives make an immeasurable difference that we cannot calculate this side of Heaven.

I was reminded of this truth recently. Two seemingly accidental conversations with people I thought I did not even know brought the power of this reality home.

We had attended a potluck at a home we had never visited. Isaiah grabbed me and said, “Mom, you remember Sue?”(not her real name) I looked at this young very vibrant woman and assumed she was one of his many college buddies. My initial response was, “No I don’t think we’ve met.”

Then this happy stylish young woman proceeded to tell me that we had met, five years before, at a park in Albany. As we moved on in the conversation, it began to dawn on me. But it could not be! We had been enjoying a picnic with our large brood of then eleven, when another family drove up. We were the only two families in the tiny park. I think that maybe I was big pregnant or had a newborn (safe assumption) and so was or did she… I can’t remember… but what I do remember was a bit of the conversation. We had a light and easy conversation about being Christian homeschoolers. Then we got into the subject of churches and it was not so easy.

This couple had been radically transformed by Jesus and then indoctrinated into a church with a whole bunch of rules and regulations. They were trying hard to fit in by dressing the part (she was wearing a shapeless longer dress and did not cut her hair or wear makeup) and live the life the church demanded. It was one of those well-intentioned churches that sincerely thinks they are the only true believers. The conversation got a lot more awkward at that point as we danced around the sensitive subject of whether or not our family would meet their church standards.

Like the ripple of a pebble on a pond, our lives have never-ending consequences.

I remember feeling so sad. Here were these wonderful people God had called and empowered and they were getting stuck in the miry concrete of religion. Soon it would cement and they would be stuck forever following a man-made rulebook. Too soon living relationship with God and others would be relegated to an unneeded corner of life. The prospect of this specter was so disheartening that I began to pray right then that God would intervene and change their lives. I only prayed for a few weeks whenever I thought about them. I have to admit my faith was very low about this. I had hardly ever seen anyone leave the cult-like hold after investing so much.

Fast-forward to Thursday night. Facing this unique joyful woman, I began to realize: God had answered my faithless prayer! He had used that chance encounter I barely remember to plant a seed in this family that is now a full-grown tree. Now this sweet family is ministering with my son! I am absolutely sure we were only one of the families and individuals God used, but it is so amazing to me to see fruit from that long ago encounter and a few weeks of scattered prayer. I want to sit down with them and hear the whole story, beginning to end, for I’m sure it is a breathtaking masterpiece of a God’s stupendous orchestration. This family is on the cutting edge of what God is doing in our valley, in prayer and true fellowship and street evangelism with the power of the Holy Spirit. The new look is part of the new revelation of enjoying who God is.

That happened Thursday night. Then Friday I administered the standardized test in Jefferson. As I was packing up my supplies to leave, the father of the hosting family came to hand me his payment. “You don’t remember me?” he asked. I was certain I had never seen him before.

We truly do not know the impact of

Our life…

Our words… Our prayers...

This man proceeded to tell me that I had made a big difference in his life! Truly, no one was more shocked than I was! “You came to my pastor’s house with Tony before you were married and prophesied over me. The words you spoke were the exact verses I had received two days before, so I knew they were from God,” he shared, “I have held on to those prophetic expressions as life verses for 24 years.” I then got to hear part of his journey into prayer, fellowship, evangelism and sharing God’s heart and words with others.

Just writing this brings me to tears. What are the chances that these two incidents would occur less than 12 hours apart? God is speaking. Of this I have no doubt.

We truly do not know the impact of our life… Our words… Our prayers.

When my older ones were in their early teens, a young family friend committed suicide. Of course everyone was devastated. We went to the funeral, and my husband insisted on bringing our oldest children. I was adamantly against this, and lobbied to protect them from the crushing reality. But he persisted, saying, “I want them to see this,” and he was so right.

The funeral was packed. Person after heartbroken person stood and sobbed out stories of Stephen’s life, what an amazing talented guy he was, how they didn’t know how they would go on without him, how they missed him.

As we drove home, Tony asked the kids, “Do you think Stephen would have taken his life if he could have imagined all of this?” Our kids sorrowfully shook their heads. “Satan gets you isolated,” he continued, “and then he tells you lies of your failure and lack of worth until you begin to believe them. He is always lying, stealing and destroying. The biggest lie of all is that our life would be better off un-lived,"... or as Job (and many others, including George Bailey) have said, "I wish I had never been born!”

My longing is for eyes to see the ripples on the pond so that we are not deceived.

If we knew how much impact we had, we would be much more purposeful about our words, prayers, actions. Of course we would! And along those lines, let’s not wait until a funeral (when the ones we love can't hear us) to tell others they have made a difference!

WHY CAN'T I SEE HEALING WHEN I PRAY???

The Healing Dilemma
At the turn of the last century, John G. Lake prayed with success over so many sick and injured with miraculous results that they shut down hospitals in his home town of Spokane, Washington. Spokane was declared the healthiest city in the US.
Aimee Semple MacPherson saw so many people healed from paralysis in answer to prayer that she filled mammoth rooms in the then brand new Angeles Temple with wheelchairs, walkers, and crutches. They are there to this day, a museum in honor of a move of God.
Stories like these inspire me, and yet they make me sad at the same time. Since God is no respecter of persons, I am left with a dilemma. So many healing needs surround me, including my own. I am convicted by the words of Jesus, “Preach the gospel, heal the sick, raise the dead.”

I want to learn how to pray and see God heal!

There, I said it.
Frustration with the status quo has brought me (finally) to this goal. I have begun to see that I don’t have the power I need to really miraculously change lives. Now, don’t get me wrong. I have seen amazing and miraculous happenings… more than just about anyone I know. But I am so aware of the need around me, and the power I have experienced is not up to the needs I see all around.

...the power I have experienced SO FAR is not up to the needs I see...

A couple of concepts come to mind. I believe I can grow in this. I remember 26 years ago when I came to believe that God did not live in the box I had put Him in… that He could do miraculous works and especially that He wanted to talk to His children.
It took quite a few years… a lot of fits and starts and failures before I could say with certainty that God was talking to me… showing me to do this or that. It was a few more years of trial and error to where I could tell someone else with certainty that God was telling them something and have confirmation it was revelatory truth.
Now I don’t believe it probably should have taken me so long to get to this point. I was not in constant fellowship during these years as I have been in recent ones. Since the point, almost 12 years ago, when I began meeting with people committed to my growth (and vice versa) at least weekly without a “Bible Study” agenda, my growth has been exponential. Being able to talk out my struggles and get insight and encouragement has been priceless. Also, back when I started this journey, I didn’t have a doctrine and church that supported that growth. Recently, I have read several terrific books on prophecy which lay out very clearly concepts I agonized over and despaired of ever finding out… finally learning from much pain and after giving up, sometimes getting stuck on one failure and so discouraged for up to five years.
All of this is to say that I want to go on that process in the area of healing and supernatural intervention. This time, I am in fellowship consistently with people who challenge me. This time, I will read anything I can get my hands on. This time, I am committed to failing faster, knowing that God honors the process of growth and that He loves it when His children want to walk in all the power He plans for them.

99% of Jesus' power goes to bring in the unsaved

For a while now, my concept has been that I need to pray for more people who don’t know Jesus, and THAT would bring me more miracles. Evangelist Ed Silvosa taught me that God spends 99% of His energy on the unsaved, because He leaves the 99 sheep in the fold and goes out after the lost one. I began the journey by deciding to pray for every person God put in my path with a physical need.
Last Friday, I was turning in some paperwork in a medical office. I was in line behind a man who was at his wit’s end. A former athlete, now in his forties or early fifties he could barely walk due to a serious accident for which doctors wanted to do a major surgery. Just before the accident, he had lost his job. He had moved to Corvallis to get adequate medical care, but there he had no friends or family, and no support. So he was in this office, trying to figure out if there was any way to pay his medical bills and fund the new surgery. I was so moved with compassion for this man that I told him I might have something that would help him. We went outside, and I clumsily said, “I know God. Sometimes I ask God to heal people and He heals them. Would you mind if I prayed for you?”
He was so open. Lifting his hands up in a surrender pose, he responded, “That would be wonderful! Would you??” So, standing outside of the Samaritan billing office in the brilliant afternoon sunshine, I just started praying.
At this point I became a bit self-conscious, as it was awkward to sort of “pick up” a male stranger that way. The awkwardness took a bit of attention away from my prayer focus and put it on myself, and as I prayed and considered later the ways I could improve the conductivity, if you will. I wish now that I had laid my hand on his shoulder or hand, as I have experienced that sometimes the power is better transferred through this means. I have recently been prayed for by people who have a lot of power in these gifts, and while praying since then, I started shaking and my hands got hot. I could stop it if I wanted, but I believe it is the Holy Spirit moving through me. So then the question is, “If I know the Holy Spirit is best moving through the hands, why didn’t I use them?” and the answer is I was afraid of what people might think… this man and others around. I think of Jesus putting mud in the eyes of a man who got healed of blindness as a result, spitting and putting his saliva in a man’s ear. I’m sure everyone thought that was pretty strange…until they got healed that is. And Jesus reminds me that when I am afraid of people, I am not as focused on Him.
And then I was in Safeway this week. An older woman was in front of me in line was struggling to breathe. Every breath was a supreme effort. She turned around and asked me if I had a cigarette. I told her “No. I don’t smoke,” and she replied, “You’re a smart girl.”
She then turned to the man behind me and asked him if she could buy a cigarette. He said he would just give her one. I watched her as she paid for her food and rolled her shopping basket toward the door, struggling to breathe all the way. All the time, I remembered what Peter and John said when they went to the temple to pray and met a man begging for money because he was lame. He approached them, so they obviously figured they were supposed to pray for him. I tried to talk myself into praying for this woman, but I couldn’t seem to muster the courage to approach her again.
"Break my heart with what breaks YOURS, Lord!"
I sat in my van and watched her loading her groceries. I prayed, “God, I probably should go over there and pray, but please give me what I need. I am afraid you won’t heal her and I will look foolish again.“ Finally as she drove away, I felt despair over my lack of boldness, “God, You know where I am, and You are going to have to change me so that I can do this sort of thing. I want You to change me, Lord.”

That night, I had a dream. I was going to have an audience with Jesus, and I was excited. I got dressed in my best clothes, and entered a huge building with soaring ceilings and marble walls that reminded me of the state capitol edifice. I walked toward the place where I was to have an audience with the King of Kings. He was supposed to be there sitting on His throne, but He wasn’t there yet. And where He was expected was a long line of people stretching through the building and out the door out of sight. What was amazing about this group was their diversity. They were young and old and middle-aged, very rich, middle class, and very poor, every color and size.
I wondered if these too were here to meet Jesus. I had an appointment, as it were, and I was in my own line facing them. I had nothing to do, so I watched the people, idly wondering how long I would have to wait to see Jesus. And then a thought began to present itself to my consciousness. I didn’t want to look at it first, but eventually I had to see the real truth. I had come to meet Jesus, and these people WERE Jesus! Instead of meeting with them, I had merely observed them, categorizing their characteristics dispassionately. I was not interested in meeting them.

"As you have done it to the least of these, you have done it to ME"

“Break my heart with what breaks Yours!” I have sung these words in the song, and thought them risky and life-changing. But never so as now. I realize that my prayer that night in the Safeway parking lot brought the dream as a sort of answer. He was showing me what is in the way. I don’t have enough love to compel me to pray for the sick who do not express their need. To put it succinctly, my problem is a lack of love for strangers. Jesus tells me, “As you have done it to the least of these, you have done it unto ME.”
I have made a commitment to pray whenever I see a physical need. I am becoming aware that I have relied on my own wisdom to deal with most physical needs that present. If the baby is teething, I administer Tylenol. When Faith hit her head on the metal swing at the park, she came over, crying all the way. I felt her head, which was beginning to knot up already and was still extremely painful. My Mommy mind begins to think, “How quickly can I get some ice?” and then the Lord reminded me of my commitment. “Oh, okay.” I thought, “I can pray for this, but it isn’t that big of a deal…. But when we prayed, the pain immediately left, and so did the lump! And Faith was touched by Jesus.

Foundational truth

I was very convicted when things went down this way. First, I realized that, though I have accumulated a lot of wisdom over the years of being a mama, my truth was what Bill Johnson would call “foundational truth”. Sure, it’s true that ice would have brought down the swelling and taken away most of the pain, and that my daughter would have been fine in an hour or so. But with every foundational truth, God always has higher truth, His superseding power to intervene in the affairs of men. This is the truth I am seeking in the area of healing, and I need all the practice I can get. I will FAIL FASTER and someday see the mountains move!
By God's grace, I'm going to pray for healing for every single physical need that comes across my path.

Anybody want to join me?

Risky Business

Anybody but me concerned that the Christian life is often presented as a collection of disciplines? Read your Bible, pray every day, and you'll grow. This is a curiosity to me. I even heard someone recently explain walking in the Spirit with the same tried and true rule. You know, I don't mean to insult anyone, but I don't even see these "rules" in the Bible.

Now, before you send me hate mail, let me tell you that I have taught these "good ideas" for Christians to many, many children over the years. My own children have been raised to know and love God's Word, and I have diligently trained them to pray. I wanted my children to know the truth and to be able to discern God's voice from that of others, and I know that the foundation we have laid in their hearts has allowed them to walk intimately with God, but each must walk out his or her true relationship alone. Much as I would like, it is not something I can choose for them.

But I guess what I'm asking is... "Is the discipline really all there is to it?" I've been watching people in church carefully for a number of years now, and I wonder if we have over-simplified the gospel. I know those who teach and believe the gospel is a formula, a prescribed project list, and I have been boggled to see them struggle with the same forms of bondage and stay in the same place as always.... except maybe now with more nice-ness from hanging out with churchy people and learning the lingo.

It seems to me that we might as well tell people who are getting married that intimacy in marriage consists of keeping the house clean and going to work every day. I don't know about you, but my marriage would be very sad indeed if I relied on those types of rules to guarantee intimacy. The adventure of my marriage lies in the relationship that is constantly changing. It lies in the faithful response of joy to my bridegroom's love for me.

The Christians who grow from freedom to even more freedom are those who are willing to risk. They are willing to obey God in the small nudges and large directions no matter the cost in uncertainty.

David Hogan, who has given his life for the Indians in the Mexico hills, and has seen 15 people raised from the dead in his ministry, says it this way.

"Get so far out on the limb that the only One who could possibly save you is God, and then watch Him work!"

This is cultural heresy. We firmly believe that the Bible confirms a 21st century American point of view that calls for "common sense" (ie.. rationalism, where my mind is my god). We cannot even conceive that the Word of God, enlightened by the Spirit of God, might teach about faith that is not merely intellectual assent. James tells us that faith without works is dead, being by itself.

Most people will never see a miracle because they have arranged their lives to be so self-sufficient they think they don't need one. They won't feel God's love in a tangible way, because they have determined to feel in control instead.

What can we call supposed "faith" that never spurs action, repentance, obedience? What if it does not change our lives or those around us? If it is alive, why is there not true fruit? The only answer I see in the Word is that it is alone, and therefore dead.

Faith makes your heart beat a little faster because you know there is truly a risk. Faith is the adventure in a life lived with God. You and I were born to live by faith and not by sight. We were born to be world-changers and not place -holders.

I have a couple of friends who are struggling with their lives because they're so busy being the "respectable Christian woman" they cannot let go and accept the grand adventure a life lived by faith. They have believed the cultural view of nice-ness, church acceptibility, and safety as the ultimate goal for their lives. They have said, "Of course I will obey God," but when the prompting from the Holy Spirit comes, they will not surrender. The question always comes, "How spiritual will this look?" They will not obey if it does not look spiritual to their church ideals. They are stuck, and at least one is considering tossing out her entire life (husband, children, church) for another.

Of couse she is. This is not the life she was meant to live! Her heart is absolutely longing for true romance, for excitement and adventure!! She has convinced herself that it does not exist in Christianity. Pharisees may have prestige and control, but they do not have joy and peace

Intimacy with God is so much more than Bible reading and a prayer list. It is more than journaling and listening to sermons. Intimacy grows with time, cooperation, and obedience. Intimacy with God is about downloading His heart, and being willing to do it all His way. Remember that God loves faith. He looks over the whole earth to reward a person who is full of faith. There's something my Bible does say... repeatedly.

Want to kick-start your spiritual growth? Take the next risk God sends your way, and don't look back in regret when the opposition comes. Keep asking God, "What can I learn from this? Give me your wisdom," and you will be amazed at the miraculous provision God will pour out. Your Bible reading will come alive, and your time with God will be more and more intimate as you do.

Since we walk by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit!!

TESTED FAITH SHINES LIKE GOLD

I have been sick for three months now…more ill than ever before in my life, and for much longer. There’s an interesting dynamic when you attend a fellowship of believers in divine healing. Your lack of healing becomes everyone’s mission…then question, then intensified mission, then, if like me you continue to remain decidedly un-healed, a chance for some to get discouraged, some to doubt God or their own faith, some to question your faith and even wonder if you are being corrected.

Two years ago I drove my 15 passenger van home on the back roads through grass seed fields, up and over I-5 from an excursion in Lebanon on a bright sunny dry road with visibility clear to the top of Mount Jefferson. As I neared home, a green minivan was stopped at a stop sign at the intersection of Tangent Drive and Tangent Loop. When I started into the intersection, the van pulled out directly in front of me! As I had no stop sign and a clear right of way, this was a bit of a shock. After all, no one tends to miss our Baby Blue Behemoth, especially under these conditions. I braked, rammed into the side of the other vehicle, and careened into a nearby power pole. When I called home, my kids asked, “Is that why we lost power a few minutes ago?”

Our experience with the driver and his passengers were less than encouraging. The men were migrant workers who spoke not one word of English, driving their farm owner’s vehicle which was only registered for the fields, not insured for street use, we found out through the police and firemen who were dispatched to the scene . When I asked if the men had papers proving they came here legally, our answer was that our new governor and legislature had recently made it illegal to ask. “But they caused an accident! Do they even know how to drive, know the laws (know how to wait until the traffic passes)?” I contended! As long as they have driver’s licenses, we aren’t allowed to question anything else, I was told. A recent expose’ on the driver’s license scam for illegal aliens in nearby Portland made me anything but reassured.

That accidental moment two years ago sent me on a long and ponderous journey…one I have begged to be released from, which has yet been the cause of amazing growth. Because of the moment that never should have happened, I spent eleven days in the hospital with trauma-induced pancreatitis, and the next two years with what became reoccurring chronic pain that was debilitating when it would flair. I saw many doctors and specialists, underwent tests of every kind, and took way too many pain medications trying to keep up with my very busy life (and baby number 13 was born in the middle of all this).

I must say, there is nothing quite like the skepticism we endure when doctors have no answers. They want to solve our problems, and when they can’t, it becomes easier to wonder if we are being dramatic or exaggerating. Sometimes I wonder what a doctor gains from treating his patients like hypochondriacs. I fantasize about addressing these doctors: Just because my problem is a mystery does not mean my pain is any less real!

Finally, this September, in the midst of a flair-up and seeking medication when my primary care physician was out, I saw a nurse practitioner who did not examine me, but dubiously asked questions. It was clear by the end that she thought I might merely be a drug-seeker, because she grabbed me and shoved her fist into my side as I was walking out of the room. Apparently she did this just to convince herself whether or not I was really in pain. That inappropriate act set up a chain of events which eventually led to a solution, but which came with the excruciating cost of being in extreme pain for ten weeks. I went home from that appointment, pale and shaking, and dropped exhausted into bed. As we eventually found out, my gall-bladder had also been injured and scarred by the car crash, but until the skeptical nurse injured it further, we didn’t figure that out.

One essential lesson I have learned about medical arenas: Just because you "pass" the test or screening does not ever mean there is guaranteed nothing wrong. My gall-bladder has been pronounced healthy and free of stones (that last part was true) repeatedly by many tests over a period of two years. My blood work did not show an elevated white count, and every chem. test came back normal. A note to doctors… please listen to your patient more than you do to your screen, test, or lab result. You know there is an element of error in every test. In fact, most of these screenings exist to rule out the most common problems and will not diagnose, or even find, all ailments. They are based on averages, and that means that there will be problems which lie outside their scope and range. Why then do you act as if the paper in your hand is a fail-proof analysis of the problem?

Finally, my symptoms began to mirror those of classic gall-bladder problems (Abdominal pain can migrate because of a lack of nerve endings in crucial areas) and one surgeon sent me to have a Hyda-scan performed. The result? Though completely stone-free, my gall-bladder was only functioning at 3%! The day after we got the news, I was in laparascopic surgery. Now, almost three weeks later, I am still healing up. My weakened immune system has been welcoming every virus within sneezing distance. My unhappy hormones have been having a hey-day with what’s left of me. At times like these, I am glad to remember I am a soul who has a body and not the other way around.

And I want with all my heart to be able to say, “I am great!” to the faithful prayers at church, but it is true by faith and not by sight. I want healing so deeply I ache over it and dream about it, despair of it in weak moments. In these moments, my trust is in the goodness of my Lord, rather than any deep understanding of why it had to happen and why I’m still in this desperate sleepless status.

Today I told the Lord, “I surrender. Again. But please Lord, could you make it clear what I am supposed to learn through all this pain and frustration? Please point out the gain in resting while my family’s needs go unmet? Could you work me through it, and give me courage to face whatever the spiritual growth needs to be? My hope is completely in You, oh Lord!”

And sometimes that is where we stay…at hope in Him who holds our hope, resting in His love, grateful for progress though it be tortoise-paced and not so steady. God is growing me to be an intercessor like many who have blessed me…one who prays only what the Lord shows and believes by faith that what He has shown will be done. I want to be one who does not put the burden on the needy to pretend faith they may not have. Lord, make me faithful and faith-full no matter how long the trial. It is a challenge to keep on caring and keep on believing for someone else when you see no outward sign of healing. But if my faith were not tested, my Bible tells me, it would not come forth as gold.

The Mystery of Cookies and Prayer

Grace asked tonight at dinner,,,"If God is in charge of everything, why does He want us to pray?? Good question, I thought. I remember asking the same thing at her age or a little younger. My Dad was always a great one for taking a child's answer seriously. Still is. He never felt a question was too silly. More importantly, he did not tell me "I'll tell you when you're older and can understand," or give me any sanctimonious tripe about taking life by faith and not questioning. While he modeled a life of faith, he always said, "the truth can handle any question you can come up with." I know he gave me a great answer back then, about God existing outside of time, and us being inside time, about the difference between knowing and controlling. And yet...
I realized my answer to that question is so different now that I am a Mama. I now understand, for instance, why parents play games with their children, hide Easter eggs for them, ask them to help make cookies. Sure, I could make the cookies myself, without waiting for a child to unwrap the butter, crack the eggs, and generally get their fingers into everything. If I did it myself it would be cleaner and at least twice as fast. But I would miss the companionship, the sense of wonder and accomplishment my children feel when they are part of the process, and I feel by sharing it with them.
Don't we parents love creating the mystery of the wrapped present, just so we can watch them open it?? I have learned that God hides presents for me, not from me, just so He can share the moment with me. To embrace our Lord is to embrace the life of mystery because He loves my childlike wonder in discovering everything He does is GOOD.
In His amazing wisdom, He deemed to submit the happenings on this earth to our connection with Him. It is why we pray without ceasing. Because we walk with Him and He like to makes cookies with His children instead of simply doing everything Himself.

"That One"

I was putting the baby's carseat in the van when my eye caught movement across the street on the busy intersection of a shopping center. A person stood there, back to me, holding a sign, wearing several layers and a stocking cap against the February cold. The Lord said to me, "That one." and I tried to shake the certainty of THAT voice as I pondered the possibilities. It looked like a young man. Perhaps the sign said he needed a ride. I was alone. Would it even be safe to take him somewhere?
And yet the nudging of the Spirit was just as firm.
I wish I could say that I drove over ready to act, but I must admit, I had barely talked myself into taking a closer look as I drove to the other parking lot and nonchalantly turned around so that I could read the sign:

BEING EVICTED
HAVE 11 MONTH OLD BABY
NEED $100

It was a woman. She was older than me, or at least had a very hard life that had aged her. I prayed. "Lord, what do you want me to do here?"
Aside from the "That one," I wasn't sure of anything. I looked in my wallet. I had $30.
A bit uncertainly I took the money and got out of the van.
I walked over to her and offered the money.
She thanked me.
"Do you have enough yet?"
She said she was almost there.
"I know GOD," I started, (My mind said Great! Really Smooth!!) "
and HE pointed you out to me when I was over there. " I pointed behind her to the other parking lot.

It was then that she started breaking down, talking a mile-a-minute. She told me she had been standing there crying out to God,
"Please God if You still care about me, answer my prayer! I just need to know one more time that You still hear me and love me. I just need to know what to do!"
"I should have known, "she lamented, "if He loved me enough to send His Son and die for me that He would answer me now. He brought me out of the pit I was living in and He has brought me so far, but now I am losing my house and I don't know what to do!"
I learned her name was Alexandra, that the baby was her grandbaby who was living with her along with his parents. Physical evidence suggested Alexandra had been an alcoholic, but she was stone sober and testifying to God’s salvation as she poured out her dilemma.
The question was where should she go next. If she went back to Portland where her 21 year old son had been living, he would surely get involved with the same people who were selling meth and put himself back in jeopardy. "It would be like a dog returning to his vomit," she said, quoting an obscure biblical metaphor.
And yet... She had been standing in her kitchen earlier that day and had the strongest feeling out of the blue that she should go to Portland. All the time standing on the corner until I came, she had been on the indecision teeter-totter, her thoughts chasing their tails and bringing greater and greater confusion.
I took her hand and we prayed. I rebuked Satan, and asked for spirit of wisdom and understanding. When we finished, I was able to confirm that she should not go back to Portland, but on to Corvallis, where there were people to help her and she could keep working.
As we hugged, she expressed her sincere gratefulness, and I walked away in awe.
We were sisters though we had never met. She was calling out to the God of the Universe and He sent me as her answer. The hardest part was how close I came to missing the whole adventure. Talk about humbling.
I walked away resolved to listen whenever God tells me "That one," and I have a feeling Alexandra walked away resolved to keep calling out to the God who answers.

A Time to Write

The other day, while I was in prayer, the Lord told me specifically that it was time for a new era in my life. I had an inkling that writing would be part of this. At the same time, I have been praying for a "spirit of wisdom and revelation" as it says in the Word.
Suddenly, I was surprised with the urgency and flow of ideas. In one evening and a few hours the next day, I wrote two full stories. It was so fun! I'll post one as soon as I figure out how to get them off the laptop... yeah I'm one of those people. (Joel please don't groan too loudly.) If it weren't for my children I wouldn't have any computer literacy. They're always saying, "It's easy Mom!"
Yesterday (very cool) a friend came over who is exceedingly gifted in prophecy. Tony and I prayed with him and he confirmed this unknowingly in his prayer for me, by saying "Lord, let her just walk into this new era boldly!" as if I had told him all about it, but I hadn't.
I love it when God does that!
So I'm writing again. It's been a long time since I wrote for the newspaper in high school and wrote poetry on every scrap of paper I could find during the boring classes.
I enjoy reading my kids' blogs. Their creativity astounds me, and reading what they have to say keeps me in touch, so now its a way to connect with those I love who are no longer in my house.
Lord, be glorified!
Blessed1