More of the same

17 August 2017
“What’s going on today, Lord?” I asked. Somewhere in the back of my conscious (finally awake) mind, I could hear How Great Is Our God, being sung. For a few moments I had just stretched and listened – and agreed with – those powerful words, then asked him that question.

“More of the same, accelerated and intensified,” he answered. Suddenly in my mind’s eye I saw fires again, popping up here and there across America.

I’ve seen and written about prophetic fires before: fires of revival. Small pockets of revival, spreading, enlarging and joining, until a conflagration of glorious Holy Spirit fire is burning coast to coast. Burning away dross, chaff, sin, decay, sickness and disease. Leaving wholeness and holiness, God’s creative life and that “more abundantly” in its wake. (John 10:10.)

These current images weren’t like that, though. These were destructive, toxic, evil. Then he reminded me – nothing that ever happens is a surprise to the Lord. He has a plan for believers to respond to every event, and he’s more than willing to tell us how to do that. Respond, not react. Be a thermostat, not a thermometer. How?! Ask him. Then listen!

Tinkering around the edges

I was just wondering what the Lord was up to this evening, wondering if maybe he’d like for me to do something different from what I was doing (reading stuff online), like pray, study, or what… when he said, “I’m tinkering around the edges.” Huh?

“When I see a loose thread, I’m pulling it.” Loose thread? What does that mean? I asked.

Some loose threads lead to knots, he said. Knotty problems. Knotty emotions. Knotty headaches and heartaches. So, I’m carefully pulling the loose threads, untangling the knots.

I suddenly visualized knotted muscles, knotted nerves, knotted relationships, and now a gentle scarred hand, painstakingly and patiently untangling those knots, soothing as he goes.

Say goodbye

Go say goodbye to your yard, He said. My yard? Okay.

cannaeisen002I stopped what I was doing and walked out into my back yard. I looked at the grass, the mixture of Centipede and Charleston grass that had taken so long to grow. I looked around at the peach trees and the pear trees, the azalea bushes, the Eisenhower cannas, the pine trees and the dogwoods.

As I turned my head this way and that, I said goodbye to them all in my mind, noticing the bark, the color of the leaves, the needles, even the rows of weed and dirt in the side garden. The willow tree – telling that goodbye was especially hard.

I walked back and forth around the back yard and the front yard, all the way to the edge of the far driveway where a solitary quince bush grew. I walked and talked in my mind to the yard, saying goodbye to each thing I saw.

I told the remnants of flowers and shrubs in the flower beds near the house goodbye. I told the place where the baby magnolia tree had once been, mowed down “by accident,” goodbye.

Even the storage shed where the garden tools were kept, even the carport utility room with the deep freeze full of frozen meats and vegetables, even the paved driveway from carport to the street, I told them all goodbye.

For so long I had yearned for things to be calm and peaceful in my household. I had quit trying to be right all the time, even when I was right. I had tried to quit worrying about money, how to make ends meet on my salary alone when my husband’s paycheck was spent on pinball, poker games and beer before he ever got home after payday.

I had done everything I knew to do to cook country-style meals, cooked long and seasoned like my mother-in-law’s. I had gotten up early and stayed up late, working in the garden picking vegetables, then shelling, freezing and canning, plus kept up with the laundry, ironing, vacuuming, mopping, scrubbing and dusting.

All those things that have to be done in a house, I did, since that was a “woman’s job,” even though I worked in an office all day. After all, my husband kept up the seven acres of yards and garden, planted, weeded, fertilized, plowed, fed the hogs, broke the corn, did all those things after working on a city truck all day. When he came home after work, that is.

But nothing I did was ever enough, nothing was ever right enough, or fast enough, or something else enough to suit him. Actually, ever since I’d given my life to the Lord, nothing about me suited him any more.

That winter I had fasted and prayed for my marriage, my unsaved husband and my young teenage children. Weekends my husband seldom came home at all any more. I took the children to Sunday School and church on Sundays, came home and fixed dinner, then rested and read until time to eat a sandwich, then went back to church on Sunday nights.

As a church musician I needed to be there. As a Christian at the end of my rope, I needed to be there.

Then I heard that voice deep in my heart, Go say goodbye to your yard, and I did. As I completed my circle of the yard and garden, He spoke again. Say goodbye to your house.

The house and land had been purchased with my mother’s life insurance money as down payment. A lot of the furniture, dishes and other stuff had been my mother’s or grandmother’s. Was I supposed to tell it all goodbye? Yes, tell it goodbye.

So I walked from room to room saying goodbye, to the piano, cuckoo clock and linen chest that had been my mother’s. To the beds and dressers and chests of drawers, even the sheets and pillows, blankets and bedspreads on the beds.

I said goodbye to all the stored boxes in the attic, all the books on the shelves, the living room drapes, the bedroom and dining room curtains, the dishes, pots and pans, refrigerator and stove. I said goodbye to the electric mixer, the mops and brooms, the detergents and bleach, the roach spray, the mouse traps, even the floor wax.

I said goodbye to all the jars of tomatoes I had canned, all the home-made pickles, the groceries in the pantry and in the refrigerator. I said goodbye to my washer and dryer.

I told the lamps, the ottoman, the platform rocker that had been my grandfather’s, the french provincial armchair and sofa that had been my mother’s, the china cabinet that had been my grandmother’s, I told them all goodbye.

I even said goodbye to the dirty clothes in the closet, the wet washcloths, the soap and shampoo, and all of my children’s belongings. I said goodbye to the pictures on the walls, the carpet and linoleum, the pink bedroom reading lamp that had been my grandmother’s, even the ceiling light fixtures.

I walked from room to room, looking from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, leaving nothing out. I opened every bedroom closet door and said goodbye to the hanging clothes, the dresses, shirts, skirts, winter coats and jackets, folded sweaters and assorted stored stuff on the top shelves.

I opened the hall linen closet and said goodbye to the folded sheets and towels, the extra quilts and blankets, my knitting supplies, yarn and needles.

I said goodbye to the gold and tan sheet-size afghan on the back of the sofa, the one I’d spent countless hours knitting, and to the heavy orange and tan lap afghan I had spent countless more hours knitting.

I said goodbye to the sewing machine and the box of patterns I’d used to make my Easter dresses and my children’s school clothes, even the smoked-up sewing box full of needles and thread that had gone through a house fire at my mother’s home.

When I was finally finished, I thought I would be leaving that place immediately, but there were no more instructions that day, just a through-and-through peace in my soul that I had done what was necessary.

Further instructions would come several months later that year (1978), when it was the right time. I didn’t realize until then that He had not told me to say goodbye to my station wagon… I didn’t have to relinquish that; I was going to need it.

 

Do you know the way?

I was thinking about the word “way” the other day. No special reason, I can’t recall anything in particular that started that train of thought.

“Do you know the Way to San Jose” wasn’t playing in my head. Not even Jesus’s statement, “I am the way.” It was more like random abstract thinking.

What does the word “way” mean? I was thinking. How to do something? Like a way to cook collards so they don’t smell up the house? (Yes, there is one. Ask me.)

Or maybe a way of looking at something? Like through my trifocals when watching TV but not when reading a book. Or looking at something from somebody else’s point of view.

Then the Holy Spirit interrupted my thoughts. “Do you know the way from Florence to Columbia?”

“Sure,” I said. “There are lots of ways to get to Columbia from here.”

I began to think of a few. Turn west on Palmetto Street to I-95, then north to I-20, then west to Columbia. Or just continue west on West Palmetto, which is US Highway 76. Take a few side roads, not main highways necessarily. They’ll all get you there, eventually.

The Holy Spirit began to ask more questions. “Which way is the right way? What time of day? One unbroken trip, or pit stops along the way? Detours to browse through other towns? An overnight stay in Sumter, maybe, to visit Swan Lake? Or picnic at a historic Revolutionary War site near Camden?” Hmmm.

“What about going east into Florence first, to pick up items for the trip? Or how about go all the way through Columbia to visit Lexington first, then come back to Columbia? Which way is the right way?”

Well, that sure got me to thinking. Then he continued.

“What is the best day? The best time of day? Or should you go at night? What’s the best season of the year? Is any one of those better than any others?”

“Should you drive your own car?” he went on. “Or maybe rent one? Or ask someone else to take you? Should you go alone, or with a companion or two? Maybe go by bus? Or by train? Or by plane?” I was accumulating quite a few mental images of what had been a simple trip. “If enough others went along, you could form a caravan!” he added.

“On the other hand, perhaps you could ride a motorcycle, or a bicycle, or walk, actually. Of course you could run, or jog. You could even hitchhike. Couldn’t you? All those are ways to go from here to Columbia, aren’t they?”

Uh huh. Hmmm. Now I was really suspicious about that first question. I wondered just what way he was getting at.

“So, which way is the right way?” he asked again. I sensed a smile in that voice.

“It all depends,” I slowly admitted, “on the purpose of the trip.” He stopped speaking and let me mull over all that.

Follow me, Jesus said to his first disciples. Take up your cross and follow me, he told them later on. Follow me as I follow Christ, Paul said to his readers. But that was after the cross, wasn’t it… so where was Jesus when Paul wrote that?

Where is Jesus now? I asked myself. Where is he going now? How do I follow him, unless he’s going somewhere? But he is going somewhere.

He’s not standing still like a statue on a Brazilian mountain top, or an icon in a church building. He inhabits believers, and while he is seated in heavenly places in the spirit world, he is also standing when I’m standing, sitting when I’m sitting, and going when I’m going, wherever that is.

“You’re beginning to get it,” the Holy Spirit encouraged me.

Suppose that Jesus wants to go somewhere, somewhere specific, in this imaginary trip from Florence to Columbia, I asked myself. What is the right way, then, to get from this house in Florence, to wherever it is he wants to go in Columbia?

I understand a little better the puzzlement of Thomas when Jesus told him, “Where I go you know, and the way you know.” (John 14:4)

Thomas said, “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going, how can we know the way?”

The disciples no doubt had the same puzzlement when Jesus felt he needed to go through Samaria to get to Galilee. (John 4:4) Now, no self-respecting Jew HAD to go through Samaria, they always went around it.

But Jesus knew there was only one way for him to go that day, because of the purpose of the trip. To rescue the Samaritan woman at the well, and her whole city.

Jesus told the puzzled disciples, “My food is to do the will of him that sent me… lift up your eyes, look on the fields; they are white already to harvest.” The whole city of Samaria, the whole area of Galilee, the whole world was ready to harvest! And it still is.

Believers still recite the Lord’s Prayer every week. “Thy will be done,” we say. If we really want to do his will, really want to carry out his wishes, we’ll listen to his voice. We’ll take him where he wants to go, the way he wants to get there.

There’s something a  bit fascinating about that word “way.”

————————————-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nbg8zdBVcPc
“Do You Know the Way to San Jose,” a 1968 song written for Dionne Warwick by Burt Bacharach (music) and Hal David (lyrics).

Faith is substance

Plasma, stem cells, and faith.

plasmaBeam-plasmaSystemI had an hour-long conversation with the Lord one recent night, as I was wondering what I should read and/or study next.

“Faith,” he said. Faith? I had studied that subject at length several times, even written about it and taught about it.

And then he said, “Faith is a real substance.”  (See Hebrews 11:1)

“By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things which are visible.” (Hebrews 11:3 NASB)

Well, duh. I knew that already. Everything that is real was and is created with God’s faith. It’s contained and used in his words. Words that have no faith in them don’t do anything. I began to meditate on that.

Faith itself is invisible, but you can see the results, i.e. the evidence of it. Sometimes the result is instant; sometimes it takes quite a while to see the results. But actual, real, faith is creative and the results will be real.

This faith – God faith – is not the same as human faith. It has to be transmitted to us, since we don’t come with it already installed like a computer program. Jesus offered it to the disciples.

  • “After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. “The time has come,” he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!” (Mark 1:14-15 NIV)
  • “And Jesus answering saith unto them, Have faith in God.” (Mark 11:22)

I visualize it sort of like this… you need a pen, I have a pen. I reach out my hand with a pen in it, and say, here, take my pen. You reach out your hand and take it. I offer, you receive.

The disciples accepted Jesus’ offer by believing what he said, receiving what he said as truth. But they didn’t always use their new-found faith.

“Where is your faith?” he asked them, when the storm came up. (Luke 8:25) They had to learn how to use it. He spent a lot of time teaching them with “show and tell.”

Here’s the key: this faith (God faith) has to stay connected to the source (God), otherwise it doesn’t do anything. If it does stay connected and we put it use as directed, it will do things. And it will grow.

After I meditated on that for a while, the Lord spoke again. “What do you know about plasma?” he asked.

Well, I knew it’s interesting stuff but that’s about all. I didn’t remember very much about it, so I did a little internet research. Fascinating reading! I actually understood a little of it from  basic physics back in high school.

The bottom line of my research was this: plasma is real. In itself it’s invisible, though – what you see is the result of it. Neon lights. Lasers. The sun.

It’s been interesting to read up on plasma. What kind of materials (gases, mostly) can become plasma? What does it take to get that material into the plasma state? What happens when plasma loses connection to its instigating power source? (Here’s a hint: it stops being plasma.)

Faith is not plasma, but just as plasma is a real thing although invisible in itself, faith is a real thing, although invisible in itself. It’s been an Interesting study, so far.

Here’s a little simplified article about plasma, What Is Plasma. It’s fascinating material. http://www.rfglobalsolutions.co.uk/what-is-plasma

A more recent day as I was still contemplating faith, the Lord asked me another question. “Stem cells… remember stem cells?”  So I read up a bit on stem cells. Some of what I found is way too complicated for me, scientifically – then I found a more user-friendly site to browse through.

“Stem cells have the remarkable potential to develop into many different cell types in the body during early life and growth. In addition, in many tissues they serve as a sort of internal repair system, dividing essentially without limit to replenish other cells as long as the person or animal is still alive. When a stem cell divides, each new cell has the potential either to remain a stem cell or become another type of cell with a more specialized function, such as a muscle cell, a red blood cell, or a brain cell.” (From Stem Cell Basics, http://stemcells.nih.gov/info/basics/pages/basics1.aspx)

Stem cells are even more fascinating than plasma! Faith is like God’s supernatural spiritual stem cells. Amazing. Truly amazing, and wonderful, and humbling.

 

Scarred no more

Like many people my age, I have several scars on my body. One large one across my chest is from breast cancer surgery a few years ago. There’s a small one on my upper arm and another small one on my face, both from skin cancer surgery some years before that.

One scar is a faded half-circle from an accident with a kitchen knife as a child – I was trying to slice myself a hunk of cheese and sliced my finger in the process. Another almost forgotten scar is a tiny circular hole on my neck from a BB gun shot as an even younger child, when a childhood pal’s carefully aimed shot bounced off something and hit me instead.

It missed anything vital, thankfully, but it bled like crazy. My playmate ran one way and I ran the other, and we both tried to keep my grandmother and his mom from finding out about it.

This post is about scars, a dream, and a loving God.

Friday, July 29, 2016

Last night I had an interesting dream. In a room somewhere I was standing talking to two men. I had just prayed for both of them to receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit, which they did. Then I heard a voice say, “Now you pray in tongues,” and so I began to do just that. The prayer was directed at just one of those two men.

As I prayed, words began to flow that I knew weren’t my usual prayer language. There was an authority, a sense of commanding something, not just asking for something.

I saw a v-shaped area of the man’s neck and upper chest, scarred from multiple small slashes. My words changed to English as the Lord began to speak to him.

“You have been cut over, and over, and over. You have been attacked and hurt, injured and damaged again and again with small slices and slashes. Now a thick scar has grown over that area, not hiding the injuries, just covering them. The scar doesn’t prevent more attacks, they still come and the scar grows heavier,” he said.

“Today the scar is being healed, soothed, erased and removed. The damage is being reversed.”

I watched in the spirit as the Lord’s hand gently moved over the area, and with each pass of the hand another layer of the scar disappeared. In a few moments the skin was clear, clean, blemish-free and healthy. And supernatural strength was replacing weakness in him, not just on the surface of his body, but deep in his soul and spirit.

At that point I woke up and knew the dream wasn’t just a dream. It was prophetic. I began to intercede and ask the Lord to perform that word.

Somewhere there is someone who is scarred from multiple attacks of the enemy. His (or her) mind, heart, and body have been injured. A protective scar has developed to hide the damage, but the Lord sees it.

And the Lord wants to fill that person with the Holy Spirit and with God’s own creative power, to make them completely whole, healthy and strong in spirit, soul and body.

Amen.

Comfort / Comforter

Comforter ComforterRescuer

What kind of comfort do you need?

The origin of the English word comfort from the Oxford online dictionary: “Middle English (as a noun, in the senses of strengthening, support, consolation; as a verb, in the senses of strengthen, give support, console): from Old French confort (noun) or conforter (verb), from late Latin confortare, strengthen, from com- (expressing intensive force) + Latin fortis, strong. The sense of something producing physical ease arose in the mid 17th century.”

Thus scriptural comfort is a reinforcement of strength – mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical.

In 2 Corinthians 1:4 the Apostle Paul said this about comfort:

  • “who (i.e. the God of all comfort, v. 3) comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.” (KJV)
  • “who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (NIV)
  • “who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” (NASB)
  • “who comforts and encourages…” (AMP)

Note: The KJV word tribulation in this verse is from the Greek word thlipsis, meaning pressure, oppression, affliction, distress, straits; it’s translated trouble or affliction in other versions.

Comfort here is from the Greek word paraklesis (G3874, noun), defined in Strong’s as meaning:

– a calling near, summons, (esp. for help); importation, supplication, entreaty; exhortation, admonition, encouragement
– consolation, comfort, solace; that which affords comfort or refreshment
– thus of the Messianic salvation (so the Rabbis call the Messiah the consoler, the comforter)
– persuasive discourse, stirring address
– instructive, admonitory, conciliatory, powerful hortatory discourse

John 14:16-17 (NIV) says, “And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever — the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.”

Advocate here in the NIV is translated Comforter in the King James Version. It is from the Greek word paraklatos (G3875, noun), defined in Strong’s as:

– one who is summoned, called to one’s side, esp. called to one’s aid
– one who pleads another’s cause before a judge, a pleader, counsel for defense, legal assistant, an advocate
– one who pleads another’s cause with one, an intercessor
– of Christ in his exaltation at God’s right hand, pleading with God the Father for the pardon of our sins
– in the widest sense, a helper, succourer, aider, assistant
– of the Holy Spirit destined to take the place of Christ with the apostles (after his ascension to the Father), to lead them to a deeper knowledge of the gospel truth, and give them divine strength needed to enable them to undergo trials and persecutions on behalf of the divine kingdom

John used this word to describe the Holy Spirit. It is translated Comforter in KJV, Advocate in NIV, Helper in NASB, and Helper (Comforter, Advocate, Intercessor—Counselor, Strengthener, Standby) in the Amplified Version. He is all that, in every imaginable variation and circumstance.

What kind of comfort did Peter need?

  • Understanding, wisdom, speaking ability, revelation knowledge
  • Angel for a jailbreak…

5 So Peter was kept in prison, but the church was earnestly praying to God for him. 6 The night before Herod was to bring him to trial, Peter was sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains, and sentries stood guard at the entrance. 7 Suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared and a light shone in the cell. He struck Peter on the side and woke him up. “Quick, get up!” he said, and the chains fell off Peter’s wrists. 8 Then the angel said to him, “Put on your clothes and sandals.” And Peter did so. “Wrap your cloak around you and follow me,” the angel told him. 9 Peter followed him out of the prison, but he had no idea that what the angel was doing was really happening; he thought he was seeing a vision. 10 They passed the first and second guards and came to the iron gate leading to the city. It opened for them by itself, and they went through it. When they had walked the length of one street, suddenly the angel left him. (Acts 12:5-8 NIV)

What kind of comfort did Paul need?

  • Understanding, supernatural information, healing from beatings, resurrection from stoning, deliverance from mobs
  • Earthquake for a jailbreak…

25 About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them. 26 Suddenly there was such a violent earthquake that the foundations of the prison were shaken. At once all the prison doors flew open, and everyone’s chains came loose. 27 The jailer woke up, and when he saw the prison doors open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself because he thought the prisoners had escaped. 28 But Paul shouted, “Don’t harm yourself! We are all here!” 29 The jailer called for lights, rushed in and fell trembling before Paul and Silas. 30 He then brought them out and asked, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” (Acts 16:25-30 NIV)

See the Book of Acts for these and many other examples. Also see I Corinthians 12 for Gifts of the Holy Spirit, i.e. God’s power tools, equipment, supplies, inside information, wisdom and weaponry.

God the Holy Spirit, the believer’s indwelling Comforter / Helper / Assistant / Intercessor / Strengthener does more than just bring emotional calmness and peace of mind which is what most people today tend to think of as comfort, although he certainly does that.

And he isn’t just called alongside to help, he’s INSIDE to help.

So – what kind of comfort do you need?