Tag: faith

Use Your GPS

We love being on the trails on our quad. It’s a two-person Outlander and perfect for the trails in Michigan. We go trail riding every chance we get; but, with our busy lives, that is only two or three times a month at the most. Every trip is a blast.

Yesterday started off at the South Branch trail head. We saw several more riders than we normally do, but the trails were still quiet and peaceful. For most of the day, we were all alone without another soul in sight. It was perfect.

The Michigan trail system is pretty well organized. Most trails are numbered and marked to let you know what trail you are on and who is allowed to be on that trail – quad, side-by-side, dirt bike or snowmobile. We always have a printed trail map with us and recently started using a GPS app on our phone with trail maps downloaded. Both of these mapping resources have kept us from getting lost which would be easy to do with so many trails and back roads intersecting in the “middle of nowhere.”

Yesterday, while I was enjoying the scenery and relaxing on the back of our quad, I realized just how important our maps are – both the GPS app and the paper map. We usually check the GPS when we come to an intersection, but yesterday we basically did a mental coin flip and just decided “let’s try this way.” When we got to the next intersection a couple miles away, we noticed that the trail we had taken without checking the map was actually not for quads. We weren’t supposed to be there even though there was no sign stating this fact. It was missing. We immediately checked the map to make sure we chose a legal trail at the next intersection. We got back on track before we got in trouble.

How many times does this happen to all of us in life? We think we have enough experience to choose the right path without checking the map God has given us, and we realize later that we are somewhere that we are not supposed to be. This has happened to me so many times over the years that I couldn’t even begin to list them all.

All I had to do to avoid these wrong-turns was to listen to God’s word but I didn’t. Oh, I may have told myself I was listening to God when I took the road; but, if I later found myself on the wrong path, it meant I wasn’t really listening to Him. I was wrapping His word around my will instead of my will around His word.

In Psalm 119 verse 105 David says, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.”

Genesis through Revelations is the GPS God has given us. Some of it can seem a bit confusing at times, but that doesn’t mean the answers aren’t there for you. Use that GPS to keep your life on the path God wants you traveling. If you stay on the wrong path for too long, it could mean circumstances far worse than the ticket we could have received yesterday for being on the wrong trail on our quad.

“Who Told You That?”

It’s been a few months since I’ve posted to my blog – nine to be exact. I’ve written a few things but they just didn’t feel right. They didn’t feel worthy of posting, so some wait patiently in a notebook and some quickly found the nearest trash can. Despite the fact that I have known for a long time that God has called me to write, nothing I wrote felt good enough to me.

This week I realized why.

Monday I pulled out my copy of The Quest by Beth Moore. It’s a Bible study I started a few months ago but didn’t finish. I started reading the answers I had written back then in response to some of Beth’s questions, and I realized why my writing “wasn’t good enough” but I didn’t do anything that day to change it.

Then I received a message today from God. Well, the message was actually from Facebook, but God can and will use whatever means He needs to in order to get His children to listen. I heard His message weeks ago when a handful of people asked me in the same week if I was still writing. Then I heard His message through Beth this week. Today’s message from Him sunk in when I received a notification that said, “1,014 people who like Forgiven Faith haven’t heard from you in a while. Write a post.”

Four hours later that number has increased by five. I don’t know where all these likes have come from. I haven’t posted since November of 2017 and the last I checked it was only in the 300s. My writing is not enough to attract 1,000 readers and I don’t promote, so I don’t know how my likes increased that much. I do know God has used that number to convict me.

God told me four years ago to write. I fumbled through writing for about three years. Some of my posts were terrible, but some were pretty good.

Somewhere along the way, I guess a year ago, I made a grievous error. I listened to a newly published author who is not a faith-based writer or even a faith-based person. That counsel was very discouraging and I have been unable to focus my thoughts on writing since that time. I learned the feel of writers block.

The counsel I received from Beth Moore this week is helping to reverse the impact of the false counsel I internalized all those months ago, however. There are two questions she posed that really spoke to me. The first felt like a knife in the chest and the second, a knife in the back.

“Where are you?”

When Adam and Eve first sinned, when they ate that infamous fruit they immediately knew they were wrong to do it and they hid from God in the garden. God knew exactly where they were but He wanted them to come to Him, so in Genesis chapter one verse nine, “the Lord God called to the man, ‘Where are you?'”

God has been asking me that same question in more ways than I can remember and today He sent it to me by Facebook. I was knowingly ignoring His directions and was not writing. I was coming up with every possible excuse to explain why I had not done what He had instructed just like Adam and Eve did. I had thrust that knife into my own chest.

Then God (and Beth) asked, “Who told you that…? (Genesis 1:11)”

Who told me my writing was unworthy of publishing? Who told me I was doing it all wrong? Who told me I was wasting my time writing faith-based blogs and stories? Who did I allow to stick a knife in my back?

It wasn’t God who said any of those things to me; and, since it wasn’t God, why was I listening?

I’m back. Good or bad blog post, I’m back. I pray I don’t disappoint.

Am I a Songbird, a Crow, or Silent?

What kind of bird am I? Do I sing with the rest of the choir when the sun is shining but keep my beak clamped shut when my life is overcast? Worse yet, do I sit on my tree-top and squalk at those around me like a crow no matter how my surroundings appear?

I look forward to walking out the door of my apartment each morning. Not only am I escaping my tiny box of a home that I share with my 110 plus pound great dane and way-too-fat cat, I also enjoy the morning choir of songbirds that I am almost always blessed to listen to as I walk to my car each day. The chirping and singing is so cheerful it can brighten even the darkest of my moods as I make that short treck to the parking lot.

This morning as I was getting ready for work, I glanced out the window and found the skies to be overcast and dreary. I continued getting ready without noticing that my good mood was starting to cloud over with the skies. Though my life is really blessed and I have been very happy lately, I was allowing the blah-ness of the day to affect me without realizing it. When I had completed my morning routine, I grabbed my purse, lunch and keys and headed for my car. My thoughts were consumed by my schedule for the day and shadowed over by the clouds overhead, but about ten feet out my apartment door I heard something that stopped me in my tracks.

Despite the cloudy, dreary-looking skies, I could hear birds singing. I didn’t hear as many voices in the choir as on a sunny day, but that didn’t effect the beauty of their song. I forgot about my to-do list. I forgot about the clouds hiding the sun. I remembered just how blessed I am. I remembered how happy I am. Then I had a random thought. What kind of bird am I?

Do I sing with the rest of the choir when the sun is shining but keep my beak clamped shut when my life is overcast? Worse yet, do I sit on my tree-top and squalk at those around me like a crow no matter how my surroundings appear? I would love to say I continue my song even when I can’t feel the warmth of the sun’s rays on me, but I know I fail at this more often than not. These random thoughts reminded me of the Apostle Paul when he said, “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want (Philippians 4:12, NIV).”

Am I content with my life so that I can sing my way through sunshine, clouds or rain? Am I content with my life so that I can lift some else’s spirit through the clouds or rain? I should sing despite the dark days. The Holy Spirit should be able to use me to lift the spirit of others on the overcast days we share. I should be a songbird no matter the skies.

Faith in God’s Leaders

Brother Gary stood before the members of the congregation which were in attendance for the church business meeting. He calmly, quietly and fairly performed his duties as moderator. I honestly don’t know how he did such a good job considering this meeting was an attempt by some members to put an end to his 14 years as the pastor, but he was very professional in performing the difficult task assigned to him.

I loved Brother Gary and considered him an excellent shepherd to lead this flock, but I had not been a member of this church nearly as long as most. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there were things about Gary I didn’t know. I decided to listen to the arguments, and arguments they were, on both sides with an open mind before deciding how I would vote. 

Though I couldn’t imagine what un-Scriptural actions Gary could have taken, I assumed the group requesting for the vote to remove him would show what they considered evidence of a sinful behavior or evidence that he was leading the congregation away from Biblical principles. I listened. I waited. I prayed. I listened some more. The worst thing anyone could say about Brother Gary was that some times he was “difficult to work with.”

When I realized the sole reason this group of members wanted Gary removed from the pulpit was because he was “difficult to work with” and sometimes stood up to them, I was furious. I felt like this group had not only wasted my time, but they had more importantly wasted God’s time. We could have spent those two hours of lost time in planning community outreach, in planning a mission trip, in ministering to the needy or in praise and worship. Instead, we spent it in an argument that eventually led to a church split. 

If God had wanted Brother Gary removed, He would have provided evidence against Brother Gary. He didn’t. It’s time for the church to remember Who should make leadership decisions. It’s time for the church to have faith in God and trust Him to put the right people in place to shepherd. It’s time for the church to realize God knows better than we do.

In Acts chapter one, the disciples faced the task of choosing a replacement for Judas Iscariot. “So they proposed two men: Joseph called Barsabbas  (also known as Justus) and Matthias. Then they prayed, ‘Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which of these two you have chosen to take over this apostolic ministry, which Judas left to go where he belongs.’ Then they cast lots, and the lot fell to Matthias; so he was added to the eleven apostles (Acts 1:23-26 NIV).” 

The disciples didn’t form a committee. They didn’t debate candidate qualifications. They let God decide, and then they did something that would be unthinkable today. They had faith that God made the right decision and they set about doing the work He had assigned to them. What if we did that today?

Hot Potato and No Espanol

I immediately felt a little tug on my heart and knew I couldn’t leave her standing there all by herself. I walked over to her, said “Hola” and sat in the dirt beside her so I could be at her eye level. I read the little sticker on her shirt, pointed to her and said “Emyly.”  She smiled and nodded and I pointed toward myself and said “Holly.”  Emyly smiled and started talking. 

The concrete building was a giant echo chamber, but at least it was cooler than it was outside. We hadn’t been outside long and I hoped we wouldn’t be out much longer. My team, the blue team, consisted of four Buckner International volunteers, one Buckner intern volunteer and two interpreters. We had already finished our vacation Bible school story and memory verse sessions. The crafts and shoes would come later after the recreation session we were outside for right now. I was very happy about the game our recreation leader chose. I am not in shape and I trip over oxygen all the time, but hot potato with a balloon was something I could do. One of the interpreters played some music from her phone. When the music stopped, the person stuck with the balloon had to get in the middle of the circle and do their best imitation of the animal chosen by the recreation leader. We had a monkey, an alligator and a handful of others. I was assigned an elephant for my turn in the middle. 

There was something I found very interesting during my time in Guatemala. The parents and grandparents were often just as excited about the activities as the children were. They tried memorizing the Bible verses, they made the crafts and they often played the games. On this day, we had a handful of parents and they played hot potato along with the rest of us. As I watched the balloon make its second clockwise lap around our little circle, I noticed a little girl, maybe four years old, standing in between two women on my right. She looked excited as the balloon headed her direction. As it made its way to the first woman, the little girl raised her hands to take her turn in passing it, but she wasn’t the only one excited. Both of the women she stood between were enjoying the game and were trying to make sure neither of them ended up in the middle of the circle imitating a cow or rooster, so they got rid of that balloon as quickly as possible. They skipped the little girl. The disappointment lasted only a moment on her face, but I still felt bad for her. As the balloon made its laps and the animal-imitators entered and exited center stage, I was distracted. I don’t know if that little girl in the pink shirt and white hat with little butterflies printed on it ever got her turn to pass the balloon. 

After a few rounds, the recreation leader and interpreters decided to try a new game. We played so many games during that week that I honestly don’t remember what the new game was, but I decided to watch from the sidelines and take some pictures and videos. As I was watching, I noticed the little girl in the white hat with the butterflies standing on the sidelines leaning against the side of a nearby building. She was holding the two purses and umbrella that I remember the two women holding during the earlier game, and she quietly watched everyone else enjoying the fun. I immediately felt a little tug on my heart and knew I couldn’t leave her standing there all by herself. I walked over to her, said “Hola” and sat in the dirt beside her so I could be at her eye level. I read the little sticker on her shirt, pointed to her and said “Emyly.”  She smiled and nodded and I pointed toward myself and said “Holly.”  Emyly smiled and started talking. 

If you read my last blog, you know I don’t speak Spanish, so when she stopped talking and looked at me with a look that indicated she was expecting an answer I had no idea what to say. I did the one thing I had become pretty good at in the last few days. I raised my hands palm up, tilted my head, shrugged my shoulders and said “no Espanol.” Emyly tilted her head back, laughed at me and started talking again. She didn’t appear to ask me any more questions, so I guess she understood what I had told her. That didn’t stop her from talking, though, and from pointing at people and things as she talked. I didn’t have any idea what she was telling me until I heard a Spanish word that sounded similar to the English word family. She talked and talked and talked some more, all the time knowing that I had no clue what she was telling me. I did try pointing out my daughter and telling Emyly that I was Megan’s mom, but I couldn’t remember how to even say that. As Emyly watched, I walked to Megan, got her attention and asked how to say that I was her mom. Megan doesn’t remember much of her high school Spanish but she was able to tell Emyly that I was her mother. 

As I sat back down beside Emyly I tried to find things to communicate with her about. When she took her hat off I traced one of the butterflies with my finger, pointed at it, said “butterfly” and tried to find a way to ask her what a butterfly was called in Spanish. I’m not sure if she ever figured out what I was trying to communicate. I didn’t understand another word she said, but that was okay. This may sound odd to you, as my reader, but despite the fact that neither of us understood anything the other was saying, Emyly and I had a really amazing conversation. We talked and we laughed and we enjoyed the brief time we had together. I will never forget little Emyly.

Children are amazing. Their innocence allows them to grab ahold of faith without questioning it and hold on until that innocence is broken. After it is broken, some manage to hold on but many do not. The Gospel of Luke tells of a time when parents were taking their children to Jesus to have Him touch them. “When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. But Jesus called the children to him and said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it‘ (Luke 18:15b-17).” 

Heaven is for children – God’s children; but unless we can hold on to our faith like an innocent child does, we risk losing our soul. We have to let go of all of the baggage that we carry as adults and just talk to our Heavenly Father, even when we think He isn’t listening or we don’t understand what He is saying. We need to be like little Emyly and just keep talking to Him – even when we don’t have any idea what His answer is. He is listening; and when the time is right, He will make sure we understand exactly what His answer is. Until that time comes, actively spend your time practicing the faith of a child and keep talking to Him. If you do this, He will answer and you will understand…in His time.

NOTE: Thank you, again, WayFM and Buckner International for giving Megan and I this amazing opportunity to serve with you.

“Luke 18:15b-17.” NIV Archeological Study Bible: An Illustrated Walk through Biblical History and Culture. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005. N. pag. Print.

Crazy, Miss-Matched Socks

​After working with children all morning, I was a little nervous about working with one of the mothers. As I sat on the floor in front of her chair, I knew the only thing she could possibly say that I would understand was “Hola” so I decided to be the first to say it in an effort to at least express friendliness even if I couldn’t verbally show it in any other words. She responded with “Hola” and continued with a few words of her own. I looked around the crowded room and couldn’t find an available interpreter, so I held my hands palms up, shrugged my shoulders, smiled and said “no Espanol.” I wasn’t even sure if I had said that correctly, but I knew she understood from her “ah” and nod.

I untied the laces of the shoe she wore on her right foot and gently removed her shoe and sock. Then I picked up the new shoes and started to remove the new socks that were stuffed inside. My first thoughts upon seeing those new socks were, “I cannot give her these. What am I supposed to do with these things? She is not going to want them. Where is an interpreter to explain how sorry I am that this is what I’m giving her? I wish I had my own bag with me, so I could just give her one of the new pair of socks I had packed for myself.” I now wish I knew how many of those silent thoughts she could see on my face. She hadn’t seen her new socks yet since I hadn’t completely removed them from the shoe they were stuffed into and unrolled them, and I really didn’t want to show them to her. I quickly glanced around the room again for an interpreter or someone who would hopefully be able to find me a new pair of socks, but no miracle showed up…or so I thought.

I know I must have worn a cringe on my face as I unrolled the pair of knee high striped socks. Oh, how I wished in that moment the only thing unusual about this woman’s new socks was the length and striped print! As I finished unrolling and separating them, she saw what I saw around thirty seconds earlier. One sock had blue and white stripes while the other had green and white stripes. Even that was not the most unusual thing about these socks. They had toes. Toes…like the socks I had been given years earlier as a gag-gift for Christmas. I was presenting this woman who was older than my forty-four years with a pair of socks that came to her knees, were different colors and had the toes separated.

I was expecting her to look at me with an expression that would say not only “no” but “are you kidding me.” In afterthought, I think I was more surprised by her response than she was about the socks. Here’s when I realized the miracle. She just laughed. She wasn’t upset. She wasn’t bothered in the slightest. She didn’t seem even the tiniest bit disappointed. She laughed and her smile showed as much in her eyes as it did on her mouth. Then her laugh became contagious. Neither of us could stop laughing as I washed her foot and put the sock on. We laughed even harder when we realized the toes on the socks were longer than the toes on her feet which made it even more complicated to make sure I had only one of her toes in each toe of the sock. Have you ever tried a pair of toe-socks? They can be hard to put on your own feet. They are really difficult when you are putting them on someone else’s feet.

Eventually, we managed to get all ten of her toes in the correct places and I put her new shoes on. She expressed her thanks, left her seat and a child took her place on the chair in front of me. The next hour or so was uneventful. I washed several pair of feet and replaced worn shoes and socks with new ones. As my team members and I were finishing up with our last few pair of feet, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find the woman I had laughed with about her crazy socks. She embraced me with the biggest hug and again thanked me. We shared another laugh and each went our separate ways knowing we will never see each other again, but I believe both of us felt a special bond was formed between us…over two crazy, miss-matched socks.

Our bond was formed on day two of a mission trip with Buckner International. My daughter and I were blessed with an all expense paid trip that I won through the WayFM radio station. We spent one week in Guatemala teaching vacation Bible school followed by giving the kids and a few parents and grandparents shoes. We told stories, helped them memorize a Bible verse, made crafts and played recreational games with more children and families than I could count. When those activities were over, we turned to the socks and shoes.

I have heard many people compare the foot washing we did to when Christ washed the feet of his disciples prior to His crucifixion, but I have a hard time making that comparison to my own actions. As I sit here now in my seat on the flight home and think back on the last week, I feel more like Mary who washed Jesus feet while he was in Bethany; but instead of washing the feet of Jesus, I was washing the feet of His disciples in His physical absence. This woman, Mary, was not a saint. She was a sinner just like the rest of us. “When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is – that she is a sinner.’ (Luke 7:39) She was also criticized for using valuable oil to wash Jesus’ feet. “But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, ‘Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given the to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.’ (John 12:4-5)” 

The only One who could truly judge this woman was Jesus Christ but He chose to extend the grace and mercy only He can give. “Then Jesus said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven…Your faith has saved you; go in peace,’ “(Luke 7:47,50). She couldn’t hide her sin, but she could rise above it. She could make the most of her resources to honor Jesus Christ, and for that He praised her and her story was given an honored place in Scripture. I am not looking for fame and honor or even recognition for participating in this mission trip. I, like this woman, just want to honor Jesus Christ in whatever way I can, and I want to spread His love around the world. If that simply means talking to my neighbors, my co-workers and other people who cross my path about what Jesus has done for me, I will do it. If that means putting a pair of crazy, miss-matched socks on someone’s feet, I will do that, too.

“John 12:4-5; Luke 7:39, 47,50.” NIV Archeological Study Bible: An Illustrated Walk through Biblical History and Culture. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005. N. pag. Print.

Writing a Beautiful Picture

Most of the things I write of are tied in some way to personal experiences I have had in my own life.  I usually try to help my readers form visual stories in their minds and follow that story with some moral lesson I have learned.  Today will be different.

Today I am the reader and I have formed a visual story in my own mind like no story my readers could ever contrive from my simple words.  I ask you to read along with me and share this beautiful vision with me.

“Where is the road to the home of light?  Do you know where darkness lives, so you can lead it back to its border?  Are you familiar with the paths to its home?…

“Have you entered the place where the snow is stored?  Or have you seen the storehouses of hail, which I hold in reserve for times of trouble, for the day of warfare and battle?

“What road leads to the place where light is dispersed?  Where is the source of the east wind that spreads across the earth?  Who cuts a channel for the flooding rain or clears the way for lightning, to bring rain on an uninhabited land, on a desert with no human life, to satisfy the parched wasteland and cause the grass to sprout?

“Does the rain have a father?  Who fathered the drops of dew?  Whose womb did the ice come from?  Who gave birth to the frost of heaven when water becomes as hard as stone, and the surface of the watery depths is frozen?…

“Who put wisdom in the heart or gave the mind understanding?  Who has the wisdom to number the clouds? Or who can tilt the water jars of heaven when the dust hardens like cast metal and the clods of dirt stick together?…”

I don’t know if you are able to see the amazing things I see when I read these words.  I don’t know how to even describe the images I visualize as I ponder in complete awe the words God is speaking in this writing.  For now I will simply end by quoting Job’s response to God’s words because I couldn’t say it any better than he did. “Then Job answered the Lord:  ‘I am so insignificant.  How can I answer You?  I place my hand over my mouth.  I have spoken once, and I will not reply twice, but now I can add nothing.'”

Guthrie, George H. “Job 38-40.” Reading God’s Story: A Chronological Daily Bible. Nashville, TN: Holman Bible Pub., 2011. N. pag. Print.

The Difference Between Doing and Living

Have you ever been so tired that no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t hold your eyes open and you were not somewhere you wanted to be caught sleeping?  On one particular day during my junior year of high school I was sitting at one of the long science tables in physics class trying very unsuccessfully to stay awake.  Mr. W. was a great teacher who entertained his classes with hilarious stories, but he spoke very monotone and the steady tone of his voice worked on me just like a lullaby does to a baby.  I don’t remember who had the pleasure of waking me up that day, but I will never forget being startled awake and feeling so embarrassed.  I felt like the focal point for the entire class whether they were paying attention or not.

If you follow my blog or happened to read my last post, you may remember that it was about the individual person being distracted by the things going on in his or her life and the distractions found on the news or social media.  In the Gospel of Mark, chapter 13, verses 32 through 33 Jesus says, “No one knows the day or hour when these things [His return] will happen, not even the angels in heaven or the Son himself.  And since you don’t know when they will happen, stay alert and keep watch.”

I don’t want to be embarrassed again by falling asleep somewhere I shouldn’t, but the thought of Jesus catching me asleep when I am supposed to be a living example of His love is… I don’t even have words to describe how horrible that would be.  There have been many times in my life during which I have watched for His return and there are other times when I have allowed distractions to take His place as my focal point.  I have recently realized that during some of the times I thought I was being watchful for Him I was actually being distracted by what I thought was His service.  I was doing the “right things” as I understood those things in Scripture, but I wasn’t really living those right things in the right way.  What if I’m not the only one?  What if Jesus comes back and finds not only me sleeping but whole congregations sleeping as well?  What can slip past the sleeping congregations and sit right down on the pew beside each member?

The book of Revelations, chapters two and three consist of letters dictated by Jesus to the churches of Biblical times and they tell us exactly what can happen when the congregation is sleeping.  The first letter is written to the church in Ephesus and should be a wake-up call to churches today.  “I know all the things you do.  I have seen your hard work and your patient endurance.  I know you don’t tolerate evil people…  But I have this complaint against you.  You don’t love me or each other as you did at first!  Look how far you have fallen from your first love!  Turn back to me again and work as you did at first.”  In His letter to the church in Sardis Jesus said, “I know all the things you do, and that you have a reputation for being alive – but you are dead.  Now wake up!  Strengthen what little remains for even what is left is at the point of death.”

The accusations against these churches were written in letters to those congregations, but they were included in Scripture for a reason.  God doesn’t simply want us to know what He said to these churches that have been gone for centuries.  He wants us to realize He is talking to the churches of today, too – my church, your church, the church around the corner and the church across town.

The churches of today need to wake up and open their eyes to the things going on around them and even within their own congregations.  In His letter to the church in Thyatica Jesus speaks of a woman, Jezebel, doing and encouraging sin within the church.  All churches have a Jezebel at some point in time.  Most churches have a Jezebel right now whether they realize it or not.  Jezebel could open the church up to many things such as gossip, lies, theft, or even drugs, sexual immorality or idolatry and false teaching.  The important thing with all church Jezebels is that the church handle the situation Scripturally.  Is she allowed to continue her behavior while various people pray for her to change?  Is she spoken to about her behavior but allowed to continue with it?  Is her behavior addressed according to the instructions presented in Scripture?  There may be times in the life of the church that His children look around themselves with concern and fear because their Jezebel seems so strong or out of control, but rest assured God will not allow Jezebel to continue forever.  In His letter to the church of Thyatira Jesus warns, “I gave her time to repent, but she would not turn away from her immorality.  Therefore, I will throw her upon a sickbed, and she will suffer greatly with all who commit adultery with her, unless they turn away from all their evil deeds.  I will strike her children dead.  And all the churches will know that I am the one who searches out the thoughts and intentions of every person.  And I will give each of you whatever you deserve….”  I’m not sure how you feel about that part of His letter, but I find it a little scary for the church.  Jezebel’s children are not necessarily the ones she has physically given birth to.  They could just as easily be other members of the church family who have become actively or passively involved in her behavior.

Jesus always leaves us with hope, however, such as the promise in his letter to the church in Philadelphia.  “I know all the things you do, and I have opened a door for you that no one can shut.  You have little strength, yet you obeyed my word and did not deny me.  Look!  I will force those who belong to Satan [including Jezebel and her children] – those liars who say they are Jews [children of God] but are not – to come and bow down at your feet.  They will acknowledge that you are the ones I love.  Because you have obeyed my command to persevere, I will protect you from the great time of testing that will come upon the whole world to test those who belong to this world.” What an awesome promise!

This post jumps around a bit in topic, but it can be applied to both the individual person and the church body. Stop doing the right things because they are the right things to do; and start living, really living the right way. Would you rather stand before Jesus at His judgement seat and hear Him say you obeyed Him, or would you rather hear Him say you lived your life in a way that other people saw Him through you? The choice is yours.

Stop Trying to Understand

“I just don’t understand how they could do this to me.” I have heard this said so many times over the years and recently have said it myself several times. When someone you have loved for many years decides to act in a way that destroys the relationship you have with him or her, the pain you feel can overwhelm you and trigger a multitude of feelings and questions. You may feel like I recently did: stuck in a pit of quicksand, slipping a little deeper every time I tried to answer another “how could he” question. As much as I would like to know the answers to each of the questions I think of, I have decided it may be best if I don’t understand them and can never answer them. Isaiah 55:3,6-9 says, “Come to me with your ears wide open. Listen, and you will find life….Seek the Lord while you can find him. Call on him now while he is near. Let the wicked change their ways and banish the very thought of doing wrong. Let them turn to the Lord that he may have mercy on them. Yes, turn to our God, for he will forgive generously. ‘My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,’ says the Lord. ‘And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.  For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts….'” Nowhere in this passage does God instruct us to study so we may understand the thoughts and actions of other people. Nowhere does He say we will understand what other people do or why they do it. What He does tell us is that we need to listen to Him and study His ways. The more we understand God’s ways, the less we will understand the ways of man including the men or women who hurt us. Stop trying to understand how someone you love could do something that hurts you deeply. If you understand it, you are capable of doing it yourself. You are almost always better off not understanding it and not being capable of it. This is almost always the only way out of the quicksand. 

New Happiness Despite Old Circumstances

If someone had told me a year ago that I would be where I am today, I would have told them they were crazy. Not only would I have never allowed things to spin this far out of control, I would never have been able to survive as things are now.

If someone had told me six months ago that everything that my life was would be gone in three months, I would have told them they were as wrong as wrong could be.

If someone had told me three months ago that I would soon be happier than I had been in over two decades, I would have told them they had no idea what they were talking about and obviously didn’t know me very well. At that time I was too devestated to really, truly function or see any possibility of happiness in my future.

Guess what. In each of these instances I would have been the one who was wrong. When I look back on the multitude of major changes that have taken place during this difficult time in my life, I visualize a big box that my life was carefully packed away in. Some of my life was packed neatly and organized and some was simply thrown into the box with the rest. Regardless of how or when it was placed in the box, each item was very valuable to me. Once my whole life was packed away to keep it safe, someone snatched the box from the place l had hidden it for safety.  They flipped it upside down and shook until the entire box, my life, was empty, handed that empty box to me, stomped on much of the contents and then smugly walked away.

I felt lost at first, frozen and unable to think. After some time had passed, I knelt down on the floor and began to try to put everything back in the box, but the box seemed much smaller now. After a while I realized that the broken pieces of my life wouldn’t fit in the box any more. I had a difficult time fitting everything in the box before it was dumped and was now faced with the task of trying to shove every broken piece, big or small, into a space never made to hold so much. It couldn’t be done.

With tears flowing down my face, I removed each broken piece of my life and spread them neatly around the floor beside the box. I gazed upon them and mourned my losses. How could I continue without these pieces of my life whether they were whole or broken? I tried desperately to find a way to glue the shattered pieces back together. I insisted I would succeed, but after a while I realized I was lying to myself. No amount of glue or tape could ever fix these shattered pieces and make them whole again, and they could not fit back into the box I held no matter how I tried. I didn’t know what to do.

I knew I couldn’t go on without these pieces but they couldn’t be fixed. I cried and I cried…a lot, and then I began to pack the unbroken items back into the box. Even these unbroken pieces were marred in some way by scratches, bruises, dents or cracks, but they were still intact despite their scars. As I placed the last of the unbroken pieces of my life into the box, I saw something through the tears welled up in my eyes. My box was full and not because it was smaller. My box had grown in size and the scarred but unbroken pieces of my life that now resided in this box had grown, too. 

The box I packed my life into was completely full and it no longer seemed like anything was missing. The shattered pieces on the floor around me were no longer important. I had thought for over two decades that each item I had packed away was extremely important and irreplaceable. I had packed each of my precious “belongings” away to protect them, but all that I had really accomplished was to hold on to them for two decades longer than God wanted me to. These things had no real value and actually lowered the value of the other pieces of my life.

My life outside of my imaginary box has changed considerably. Some of the changes were painful to live through but each and every one of them was needed and has brought me to a new place in my life…a new place where I feel respected, wanted and loved.

Isaiah 43:2 says, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”

I thought I would not survive the complete change my life has been through; but, as it says in Isaiah 43:2, I did not drown or burn. I made it and I am happy for the first time in many, many years.