Friday, September 17, 2010
Have you ever gotten to a certain point in your life and wondered,
how on earth did I get here? What happened that caused me to arrive at this point?
This isn't where I was going. I was heading in a different
direction. This is not how my life was supposed be.
In some areas of my life I can look back and know the exact moment I was cut off and ended up on another path. At the time, the incident seemed less than significant, but that one little bump ended up taking me completely off track. It took me down a foreign road that I or my children were never meant to travel.
You see, when you are a parent, your children must go down that dark road with you. My heart aches now to look back at my travels knowing no matter how I tried to see my way clear, I was in darkness and thus so were my precious children.
In other areas, as hard as I try I can't figure out how I got off track or when the detour started, I just know something went wrong somewhere in my travel through life. Was it a harsh word, or look from someone I looked up to, or perhaps something one of my parents said over me as a child that put a harness of slavery on me? As hard as it is, I have to realize I may never know the real root of my detour. I just have to accept here I am, now what am I going to do?
I fully believe all my twists and turns come as no surprise to God. After all, He created me and His love for me has been constant, even when I was running my race on the wrong track.
He has always steered me back on course. Sometimes gently, lovingly and sometimes jerking me up ripping me out of a situation causing, oh, so much pain. But I understand had He not used force at times I would have kept blindly feeling my way down a dark and dangerous pathway never intended for me or my children.
I also believe we each come to a detour sign in our lives and are forced into making a choice. We can ignore it and plow ahead forcing our way down that same path to certain death, or we can choose to make the turn that saves our life and the lives of our children.
Choosing to turn with the detour can sometimes be the hardest act of obedience ever. We have to deal with our pride, our fears, our guilt, our shame, this list goes on and on. In dealing with each of our issues one by one, as we take the detour God has arranged for us, we begin to see a restoration of our life back to the original purpose God has for us. Generally not overnight, but in time. God's time.
In Galatians 5:1&2, Paul writes, "Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your Stand! Never again let anyone put a harness of slavery on you. I am emphatic about this. The moment any one of you submits to circumcision or any other rule-keeping system, at that moment Christ's hard-won gift of freedom is squandered."
Later in vs. 7 he writes, " You were running superbly! Who cut in on you, deflecting you from the true course of obedience? This detour doesn't come from the One who called you into the race..."
I don't know about you, but I do not ever want to squander the Blood of Christ again. I want to stay alert and stand strong keeping my eyes open watching for anything that is trying to deflect me from my true course of obedience.
Sound paranoid? You bet, I don't ever want to go down that road of darkness again. If I let my guard down for one instant something will try to knock me off my path.
My only words of advice are put on God's armor everyday, stand on guard, and pass me some coffee so I can stay alert!
Wendy, Princess, Daughter of the King of Kings
Mother of Princesses and Princes
Grandmother of Royalty
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Job 16:20 says, " My intercessor is my friend as my eyes pour out tears to God." NIV
Several years ago at a Woman's Meeting the alter was opened up for us to seek God, pray, what ever was needed. I went up secretly hoping for a word from God through the lady who had spoken to us that morning, I have to say I was totally taken off guard by what happened to me there in His presence.
I fell on my knees praying and deep, deep, deep from inside me I started to cry. Memories of my past kept flooding in and all I could do was cry, cry, cry. Not just whimper, or the sophisticated quiet tear rolling down one cheek that causes others to say, "Oh, what strength". No, not me I was sobbing uncontrollably, loud, tears, snot the whole ball of wax.
Part of me kept saying, "Pull it together, girl you are embarrassing me in front of all these ladies" but I just couldn't. The second I thought I was about to regain my composure it would start all over again. I couldn't control it, I felt like my insides were coming out and to a certain extent they were.
All the "stuff" from that part of my life that was less than stellar, that part that still tries to creep in to cause shame and guilt, that part that destroyed my relationship with my children, that part that makes up my testimony was playing before me like a movie that I couldn't shut off. It just wouldn't stop. I had no control, and I was getting pretty upset with myself for the embarrassing display. I remember the lady coming near me, and I was thinking, "finally, a word from God and I can put myself back together." She walked right past me, I knew she knew I was there in a little heap at the alter, anyone with in ear shot knew I was there.
I was totally discheveled, makeup running down dripping off my chin, hair matted from sweat, thank God I had slacks on. You get the picture.....
OK, I've said all that to say this.
There was a lady, a matriarch in the church. You know the one, she's what we aspire to be when we grow up. Her parents were missionaries, she has a Godly presence about her, frail in appearance probably in her 70's or early 80's, and yet mighty in the Spirit. I'm sure anyone reading this knows her or someone like her.
She came and sat down beside me on the floor, which I knew at the time had to be painful for her.
During all this mess, when most of us would have been tempted to start a deliverance and cast out a few of the demons who were torturing me, or try to get me to talk about what was going on, or at the very least grab some oil and start praying in tongues she did none of the above.
In her wisdom, maturity and compassion she just sat there handing me tissues. Occasionally she would rub my back, but for the most part of this ordeal she just sat there next to me, on the floor quietly not saying a word. It was like she was protecting me, possibly she was. Maybe she was the reason no one else came over and tried to "minister" to me. She just sat there and let me get it all out till there was nothing left.
I can't describe what her presence was like for me, but this scripture in Job, "My intercessor is my friend as my eyes pour out tears to God." Comes to life every time I remember that morning.
She was quietly interceding on my behalf, handing me tissue after tissue sitting next to me on the floor just being there, allowing me to pour out my tears to God.
When ever I am in a place where someone is in distress I remember that morning, and I know sometimes the best way to be a friend is just be there. I get so tempted to share my experiences, to give scripture, to anoint with oil to "minister" in some way, to do do do, talk talk talk. I thank God for the Woman of God who taught me sometimes quietly being there for someone is the best ministry we can offer.
I will never forget what Miss Amy did for me that day, I will never forget the lesson I learned from her.
Perhaps that lesson was the Word from the Lord He wanted me to have that day!
Daughter of the King
Mother of Princesses and Princes
Grandmother of Royalty!
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