Yesterday I felt led to go outside and pray. I wasn't sure why, but felt I just needed to go and God would let me know. Only, for about an hour I didn't feel like He did, and I was starting to feel rather stupid. I had found this spot where there were giant bleachers and was sitting there trying to read my Bible or pray when nothing seemed particularly inspired.
Suddenly I had the desire to sing "Stronger," which has been my song for the past few weeks. I didn't know the verses well, so I put in my ipod. Then I remembered that I had seen a dance to this song when I had listened to it before which involved a giant stair much like the one I was sitting on. Hmmm. Seemed significant somehow, but I couldn't put my finger on why.
Then the phrase went through my head, "Shout, for the Lord has given you the city." I got really excited. God was going to give me (us, Christians) the city! Something I never really believed would be possible - even though I prayed for it - suddenly seemed real. Then my view of my surroundings totally changed. I saw God's name being lifted high above the city. High above the crowds of people. High above the tallest buildings. I saw it! I saw all the strongholds of Satan, and was able to look them square in the face and sing "You are stronger." I saw all those people one day climbing the stair towards heaven and singing it too.
I turned to Joshua and the battle of Jericho in my Bible. The first verse of chapter 6 leaped out at me. "Now Jericho was tightly shut up because of the Israelites." I saw my city tightly shut up by the forces of Satan, who were terrified of losing their power. Then I saw how God appeared to Joshua and gave him an unorthodox battle plan, one that probably resulted in mass amounts of ridicule for the Israelites while it was being carried out. Then I saw the Israelites marching around the city, claiming their territory and praying. While they were quietly walking, they were lifting God's name high. Then the walls came crumbling down, and all the spoils belonged to God.
In my case, I'm not sure if marching this city means more than praying and lifting God's name high - that's to be determined - but the spoils are the souls. All those are God's! And as far as walls coming tumbling down, every stronghold the enemy has is going to crumble, which might be painful. I'm talking about things like the stock market, or ungodly theaters, or malls, or clubs.
It might be painful, but when it happens, I will shout, for God has given me the city!
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
My Miracle
Since the last time I wrote I had had some hard times. Still depressed a lot and often unable to focus. But I had good reason, I thought. The stresses in my life... just one of them would be enough to really upset many people. All things considered, I was surviving rather well.
Then one day I went blind. During class I went completely blind for thirty minutes. The professor went nuts - kind of entertaining. You should try it if you ever have a slow class... kidding! When I could see again, I could only see the bottom half of my regular field of vision, and that half was a mess. Sometimes I saw spots. Sometimes I saw messed-up colors. Sometimes I saw double. It was a complete alternate reality.
After three days in the emergency room, the doctors concluded there was nothing physically wrong with me. I had a rare side effect of post traumatic stress disorder that often happens a year after the trauma (I got back from Ghana in May of 08). Basically, my body had decided I'd seen enough! I was pretty upset. I didn't know what could be going on inside to cause this - I thought I was doing better. To make matters worse, I had decided last summer not to go to counseling, because I felt I just needed to go to God. Like I said in November, I know all the right answers, but they couldn't take away the pain. Only God could do that. Now everyone could see that going to God didn't work.
For three weeks I lived in this alternate visual reality. Let me tell you how hard it is to do homework when you can't read or write! Then one day I got to church early and decided to pray outside for a while. As I was praying, I felt this intense bitterness and anger well up inside of me. It was a Friday night, and people were running around, talking on their cell phones, going to fancy dinners, going out, with no thought that their whole world could collapse in an instant and everything would be gone. I felt hopeless. It wasn't like God couldn't do something with these people, but I didn't see that He was and did didn't believe He would. The feeling bothered me, especially since I realized it's been in me since Ghana. I haven't had the heart to serve God because I lost hope that He'd really do something in the lives of the people I cared about. But, probably like I'd done for a year, I brushed it aside and went to church.
During the alter call I was praying in my seat when God suddenly transported me back to Ghana. There was a moment, about my third week there, when I was really praying about everything I'd seen so far and for everyone I'd met. Then it was like my prayers got bigger and bigger until I was praying for the whole continent. I got completely overwhelmed by the immensity of the problem of Africa in general. I knew God could move, but I didn't see Him working. I remember praying in that moment, "God, show me the hope. You have to show me the hope." I didn't feel like He did. When God brought me back to that moment, I realized that it was there that my hope had died.
Standing there in church, I began to pray the same prayer. "Ok, God," I said, "You showed me this for a reason. Now You have to show me the hope. It's killing me." God said, "Open your eyes."
I opened my eyes, and saw a sea of people down at the alter. Some were praying for each other, others were pouring out their hearts to God, others were smiling a smile that could only be explained by a touch from God. God said, "There's your hope." I realized I'd seen this scene every week, but never seen it for the miracle it was. It was so beautiful - I probably looked sac religious as I just openly stared. God was working in these people's lives.
About ten minutes later I realized my vision had been completely restored.
Then one day I went blind. During class I went completely blind for thirty minutes. The professor went nuts - kind of entertaining. You should try it if you ever have a slow class... kidding! When I could see again, I could only see the bottom half of my regular field of vision, and that half was a mess. Sometimes I saw spots. Sometimes I saw messed-up colors. Sometimes I saw double. It was a complete alternate reality.
After three days in the emergency room, the doctors concluded there was nothing physically wrong with me. I had a rare side effect of post traumatic stress disorder that often happens a year after the trauma (I got back from Ghana in May of 08). Basically, my body had decided I'd seen enough! I was pretty upset. I didn't know what could be going on inside to cause this - I thought I was doing better. To make matters worse, I had decided last summer not to go to counseling, because I felt I just needed to go to God. Like I said in November, I know all the right answers, but they couldn't take away the pain. Only God could do that. Now everyone could see that going to God didn't work.
For three weeks I lived in this alternate visual reality. Let me tell you how hard it is to do homework when you can't read or write! Then one day I got to church early and decided to pray outside for a while. As I was praying, I felt this intense bitterness and anger well up inside of me. It was a Friday night, and people were running around, talking on their cell phones, going to fancy dinners, going out, with no thought that their whole world could collapse in an instant and everything would be gone. I felt hopeless. It wasn't like God couldn't do something with these people, but I didn't see that He was and did didn't believe He would. The feeling bothered me, especially since I realized it's been in me since Ghana. I haven't had the heart to serve God because I lost hope that He'd really do something in the lives of the people I cared about. But, probably like I'd done for a year, I brushed it aside and went to church.
During the alter call I was praying in my seat when God suddenly transported me back to Ghana. There was a moment, about my third week there, when I was really praying about everything I'd seen so far and for everyone I'd met. Then it was like my prayers got bigger and bigger until I was praying for the whole continent. I got completely overwhelmed by the immensity of the problem of Africa in general. I knew God could move, but I didn't see Him working. I remember praying in that moment, "God, show me the hope. You have to show me the hope." I didn't feel like He did. When God brought me back to that moment, I realized that it was there that my hope had died.
Standing there in church, I began to pray the same prayer. "Ok, God," I said, "You showed me this for a reason. Now You have to show me the hope. It's killing me." God said, "Open your eyes."
I opened my eyes, and saw a sea of people down at the alter. Some were praying for each other, others were pouring out their hearts to God, others were smiling a smile that could only be explained by a touch from God. God said, "There's your hope." I realized I'd seen this scene every week, but never seen it for the miracle it was. It was so beautiful - I probably looked sac religious as I just openly stared. God was working in these people's lives.
About ten minutes later I realized my vision had been completely restored.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Walls
From 11/28/09...
I've been thinking about walls. I've spent my whole life building them thicker and deeper to protect myself from the outside world. But what I really did was build a wall around my heart, and then I couldn't get to it either. It reminded me of the Israelites and Jericho. God asked them to feel like idiots when they got to that city - and not just for a few moments - for a week. I can imagine some of them were questioning.. How in the world could they trust God? Sure, He parted the Red Sea, but look at what else He'd done. He had made them be slaves for four hundred years. Just ask the African Americans - they'll tell you how hard that is to get over! Then, after a few miracles, He had made them wander in the wilderness for forty years just because they hadn't been capable of trusting Him. Often we're so hard on the Israelites, but I can relate. Sure, God had done some miracles, but He had also allowed some bad stuff to happen. Maybe there was a reason for some of it, but some of the stuff they had gone through would be hard to get over. I would have felt like, "God, I'm supposed to trust you, but you let my ancestors become slaves." I think that the people wanted to trust God, and had made progress, but there was a wall there. There was a wound. They made the choice, however, to step out in faith. They knew anything was better than going back into the wilderness. They stepped out- and the walls came tumbling down!
I've been thinking about walls. I've spent my whole life building them thicker and deeper to protect myself from the outside world. But what I really did was build a wall around my heart, and then I couldn't get to it either. It reminded me of the Israelites and Jericho. God asked them to feel like idiots when they got to that city - and not just for a few moments - for a week. I can imagine some of them were questioning.. How in the world could they trust God? Sure, He parted the Red Sea, but look at what else He'd done. He had made them be slaves for four hundred years. Just ask the African Americans - they'll tell you how hard that is to get over! Then, after a few miracles, He had made them wander in the wilderness for forty years just because they hadn't been capable of trusting Him. Often we're so hard on the Israelites, but I can relate. Sure, God had done some miracles, but He had also allowed some bad stuff to happen. Maybe there was a reason for some of it, but some of the stuff they had gone through would be hard to get over. I would have felt like, "God, I'm supposed to trust you, but you let my ancestors become slaves." I think that the people wanted to trust God, and had made progress, but there was a wall there. There was a wound. They made the choice, however, to step out in faith. They knew anything was better than going back into the wilderness. They stepped out- and the walls came tumbling down!
Lepers
Written on 11/28/08...
Last night I thought of a great way to describe the state I've been in for the last few months. I've been a leper. It's not like I wanted to rebel or be mad at God and become depressed. I was unable to feel. But God touched me and healed me. Now, just like a leper I've entered into an incredible new life, but it's also a life with pain. I wonder if each leper knew what they were getting into when they asked to be healed, and if they would have wanted to be healed if they had known. I wonder if any of them wanted to go back to being a leper and if God would have let them. For me, I've decided the pain I'm now able to feel is nothing compared to the pain of having no pain. The pain of feeling alone because I couldn't feel anyone or anything touch me.
Last night I thought of a great way to describe the state I've been in for the last few months. I've been a leper. It's not like I wanted to rebel or be mad at God and become depressed. I was unable to feel. But God touched me and healed me. Now, just like a leper I've entered into an incredible new life, but it's also a life with pain. I wonder if each leper knew what they were getting into when they asked to be healed, and if they would have wanted to be healed if they had known. I wonder if any of them wanted to go back to being a leper and if God would have let them. For me, I've decided the pain I'm now able to feel is nothing compared to the pain of having no pain. The pain of feeling alone because I couldn't feel anyone or anything touch me.
Breakthrough
I wrote this on 11/20/2008. Some background - for the past few months I had felt something wasn't right, but I couldn't put my finger on what. I decided that I must be going through a dry time and to keep doing what I knew was right even if I didn't feel like it. Then...
Well, I prayed that God would take me to the next level, and He did. Tonight I went to my Bible study (didn't want to, btw) and there was a guest speaker there. He started by talking about how this was a "divine appointment" and how if God went through the trouble to orchestrate this, He must have something incredible He wants to say to someone. The way He said it, it was actually exciting, not corny. Then he proceeded to talk about Peter, my favorite dude, so I had even higher hopes. But the theme of his talk was surrendering all control to Jesus and letting Him flow through you instead of getting filled up and pouring out (see my blogs about trees). I was furious with him. I was angry that he was talking about how we could impact people's lives and be powerful if we would just let the Spirit flow through us. In my mind I was listing time after time I completely surrendered myself to God (as much as I'm humanly able) and He let me down. I was mad at the speaker for saying what he said, but I was more mad at God for letting me force myself to obey by doing and saying what I knew to be true, when I was constantly "disappointed again."
The problem with being a Christian for a long time and studying the Bible a lot is that you can't even be honestly mad at God. I know all the right answers - God is moving, He's just not doing what I want... Abraham waited ten years but I can't wait ten minutes... Even Peter and Paul had their down times. Since I can't allow myself to be mad at God, I tell myself these things to try to make myself feel better, but sometimes all the logic in the world can't change the way I feel. So I was trying not to cry and trying desperately to find a way to reconcile knowledge and feelings.
When we broke into small groups, I refused to talk. I said after the day I'd had I just wanted to listen. That really made people uncomfortable, but they were great about it. I just didn't want to cry... not there. It occurred to me that I might not be able to cry later if I forced myself to keep in in once more, but I still didn't want to.
When we started praying, I realized this whole thing was about a baby I watched suffocate to death because no one would treat him because he had AIDS. I gave up everything to go to Africa, and for what? To watch a little boy die. Everything in Ghana fell apart after that. Somehow, I felt God had to make it up to me, so I demanded things from Him. Of course, He didn't comply. Since then I've done the right things, said the right truths, and really tried to live with God's Spirit flowing through me. But the truth is I've never been able to trust Him or forgive Him, and I"m not able to love new kids.
By then I was crying, hard. I was still trying to rationalize how God could have let that happen. Suddenly I saw myself holding that baby, and I saw my arms handing him up to Jesus. I shut out the picture - I didn't want to give him up. Then I realized that I needed to allow God to continue the vision no matter how much it hurt. I saw the baby in Jesus' arms, and I was furious. How dare He be holding him! He was mine! But then I started to notice that the baby's face was different. He didn't look sick and emaciated. And he was so happy. His face glowed. He was smiling and clapping his hands and just so happy. Then I heard the words, "It was you who put him there."
I realized that as dramatic as this sounds, I bonded with that baby like he was my own son. Though adopted, he had become my son, and I will never get over his loss. But now i have the image of him with Jesus, and that really helps. I feel the healing has begun.
Well, I prayed that God would take me to the next level, and He did. Tonight I went to my Bible study (didn't want to, btw) and there was a guest speaker there. He started by talking about how this was a "divine appointment" and how if God went through the trouble to orchestrate this, He must have something incredible He wants to say to someone. The way He said it, it was actually exciting, not corny. Then he proceeded to talk about Peter, my favorite dude, so I had even higher hopes. But the theme of his talk was surrendering all control to Jesus and letting Him flow through you instead of getting filled up and pouring out (see my blogs about trees). I was furious with him. I was angry that he was talking about how we could impact people's lives and be powerful if we would just let the Spirit flow through us. In my mind I was listing time after time I completely surrendered myself to God (as much as I'm humanly able) and He let me down. I was mad at the speaker for saying what he said, but I was more mad at God for letting me force myself to obey by doing and saying what I knew to be true, when I was constantly "disappointed again."
The problem with being a Christian for a long time and studying the Bible a lot is that you can't even be honestly mad at God. I know all the right answers - God is moving, He's just not doing what I want... Abraham waited ten years but I can't wait ten minutes... Even Peter and Paul had their down times. Since I can't allow myself to be mad at God, I tell myself these things to try to make myself feel better, but sometimes all the logic in the world can't change the way I feel. So I was trying not to cry and trying desperately to find a way to reconcile knowledge and feelings.
When we broke into small groups, I refused to talk. I said after the day I'd had I just wanted to listen. That really made people uncomfortable, but they were great about it. I just didn't want to cry... not there. It occurred to me that I might not be able to cry later if I forced myself to keep in in once more, but I still didn't want to.
When we started praying, I realized this whole thing was about a baby I watched suffocate to death because no one would treat him because he had AIDS. I gave up everything to go to Africa, and for what? To watch a little boy die. Everything in Ghana fell apart after that. Somehow, I felt God had to make it up to me, so I demanded things from Him. Of course, He didn't comply. Since then I've done the right things, said the right truths, and really tried to live with God's Spirit flowing through me. But the truth is I've never been able to trust Him or forgive Him, and I"m not able to love new kids.
By then I was crying, hard. I was still trying to rationalize how God could have let that happen. Suddenly I saw myself holding that baby, and I saw my arms handing him up to Jesus. I shut out the picture - I didn't want to give him up. Then I realized that I needed to allow God to continue the vision no matter how much it hurt. I saw the baby in Jesus' arms, and I was furious. How dare He be holding him! He was mine! But then I started to notice that the baby's face was different. He didn't look sick and emaciated. And he was so happy. His face glowed. He was smiling and clapping his hands and just so happy. Then I heard the words, "It was you who put him there."
I realized that as dramatic as this sounds, I bonded with that baby like he was my own son. Though adopted, he had become my son, and I will never get over his loss. But now i have the image of him with Jesus, and that really helps. I feel the healing has begun.
She's back
This is the first time I've come back to a blog after I've left it... so you're not rid of me yet! The thing is, Ghana is still affecting my life in numerous ways, so the story isn't over. Maybe it never will be. But now that it's summer and I have time again, I will continue to post my lessons from Ghana as I continue to experience them!
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