Currently Reading Smith Wigglesworth Devotional By Smith Wigglesworth see related

Battlefield Report

You might think, given the last entry date, that something important has been ongoing in my life, something that is so consuming and so riveting that I hadn't time to write. Yes and  No.  I have been busy fighting a few battles on different fronts and I'm weary.

About a week ago, I came across a Smith Wigglesworth daily devotional in the bookstore.  I hadn't planned to go in that morning, nor had I planned to buy anything when I arrived.   I was merely transporting out of state guests to the bookstore as requested.  But as I walked by a shelf the name jumped out at me.  I've heard a great deal about Smith Wigglesworth in the past six months and this is the first time I've found anything with his name upon it.

Last night when my husband came in from work, the cares of the world were heavy upon him.  We've been bombarded heavily for the past six weeks.  First a dear friend died at a young age after a brief and tragic illness in which we had prayed for a miracle healing.  Later that week, my husband and I drove to Lakeland, Florida for that incredible outpouring of Holy Spirit that is going on.  There we were in an area of massive miraculous healings and I got sick.  Yes, we had a miracle healing occur, but I was still sick!  One ER visit later, I found myself in constant pain for nearly a month as the healing took place.  And with a hefty hospital bill to boot.

Then we began to experience various other problems, some minor, some not so minor.  The coffee maker bit the dust.  The satellite went down not once but twice for more than a week at the time, necessitating repairs and finally replacement.  The Air conditioner needed a repair and that too came with a hefty price.  Our daughter gave us some grave concern for a few days until a certain matter at school righted itself.  Husband and I argued over this and that, one issue a recurring theme that has hurt me and done damage because I've left it unaddressed.  'Fessing up brought anger and tears and weeping and silence, a temporary standoff and then digging up once more to find something that resembled a reasonable solution to us both.  

With guests coming in and no place to bed them, we rented a local hotel room for 8 nights.  Another heavy bill, one we didn't mind paying, but had not planned for either.  Husband's work and certain aspects of our church have given us nights and days of worries and indecision.  Guests who came into our home brought with them a lot of angst and woes and left us floundering. 

The increased prices in gasoline and groceries and goods has left us reeling and our checkbook straining.  We had been in deep discussion about where and how to cut back and what we could manage without just now.  Some of the changes are going to be difficult.  We've always lived pretty tightly to a strict budget and we've only allowed ourselves a very few luxuries.  Those would have to go.  Pleasurable things all.

And then we found ourselves having to go back into debt, when we've been so blessedly free of it for the past year.  Our AC unit died completely.  For the first few hours we talked brave and hard about living without it, we could manage, we'd lived without for years prior to this home, etc.  It took exactly one night in near 95F temperatures to come to the conclusion that in other homes we might well have managed, but in this one we simply can't.  We called for a quote and bought a new unit after negotiating a loan, and spending a night searching our budget for stretching room to make the payments.  We found it, but that already tightened budget is going to be downright unpleasant and require more than a little stoic effort and sacrifice on our parts.

SIGH.  SIGH.  SIGH.

It's been a hard six weeks.  We've been battling personal demons and temptations and frustrations in addition to all we've faced together.  We've felt our faith lag and shored it up and felt much as the father who cried out to Jesus, "I believe.  Help my unbelief!"  We know all too well from whence that cry came.  And we're battle weary.  Really weary.  And so last night I picked up the devotional book I'd laid aside for the past few days because I was too weary to even prep myself for the next round of battles.  And I read the suggested scripture and then the devotional itself.  One sentence leaped out at me:

"We never get into a new place until we come out of the old one." *see "reading now" at top of page for source*

Hadn't I just heard a message about a group of people traveling 900 miles to a new country, people who had stopped to fast and pray and to ask for direction and protection? Just yesterday our pastor preached over a certain passage in Ezra 8:21 in his father's day sermon. 

21 There, by the Ahava Canal, I proclaimed a fast, so that we might humble ourselves before our God and ask him for a safe journey for us and our children, with all our possessions.(NIV)

For myself, what stood out was that they stopped in the midst of their journey to pray and fast. Wasn't I aware that I too was going on to a new place, but had been hanging on tooth and nail to the old place in habits if nothing else?  It was time to mark the changes that had taken place and to ask for new direction and protection. 

Suddenly I knew just what had to be done. I too needed to spend time in prayer and fasting.  I listed the four areas where we needed answers right now:  Our church, husband's vocation, our children, and our finances.  And then I began to pray about the kind of fast God required of me.  I searched and searched, thought of this area and that.  And I discarded them all because none seemed quite right. 

Then as I went back to reread the devotional again, to let it soak fully into my spirit, I suddenly knew just what I had to fast.  It's a small pleasure but one I look forward to daily.  And God has asked me to give it up for a certain time.  My flesh cried out in protest, yet I knew just why God required me to give up that one little thing.  Because it's going to mean a real sacrifice on my part to give it up.  I think about that little thing all throughout the day.  Giving it up is going to mean that all through the day I am conscious of the need for prayer in those areas where we've  been struggling lately. 

Please don't think I'm complaining.  Not yet, anyway!lol  But you see it's been a really difficult time for us.  We've shed more tears, lost more sleep and worried more in the past six weeks than we've done in more than three years.  And something has to change.   God has shown me the areas where we're being attacked and what to do to show my earnestness in winning our battles.  I am deeply grateful for that and just wanted to share because for me, it's still amazing that God takes time to deal with me one on one.  He is so concerned for me and my cares that he illuminates passages and brings messages to me right where I am.   At this time, I happen to be on a battlefield and I'm tired and I'm weary and I'm careworn.  And when He does things like this, I feel uplifted and able to stand once more to face the enemies that come against me.  Praise His Holy Name!

The Wonder of It All

I've been busily involved in a great deal of study of late.  I have so many questions and things to puzzle out.  A woman in our church has been very ill.  And though the church body went into a prayer and fasting session for her, she's only been given days to live. 

I'm not sure of this woman's age.  I'm not sure of her belief system, though I do know she is a Christian.  I know only that she has said she is tired of the suffering she's been through, that she longs to go home to Christ.

In the past two years we've experienced some wonderful and miraculous things.  Not too long ago a dear couple who are expecting twin girls received devastating news that one baby would likely be still born and the other would be mentally or physically damaged due to a rather dangerous low level of amniotic fluid in the sacs.  The church body went into prayer and in the next two visits, both sacs began to refill with fluid.  The doctor was astounded and even declared himself a believer in the power of prayer when amniocentesis proved both babies were completely normal.  God had performed the medically impossible.  He heard and answered prayers though the world's 'facts' weren't in agreement with the possibility.

Recently we gave a shower for these two precious babies, soon to be born.  The mother wrote the most wonderful thing in the thank you notes for their shower: "Thank you for sharing in our miracle."   I  was moved to tears by that statement.  I was part of their miracle because I'd prayed and believed right along with them.  I felt so humbled by that.

A few weeks ago our dog was poisoned and disappeared for two days.  When she returned it was medically too late to reverse the effects of the poison. We watched in dismay as her condition got worse and worse and we were helpless to do anything for her.  Except pray.  A month later and that dog is now recovered and apparently healthy. She's just a  dog, but God heard and answered our prayers.

So why hasn't this dear woman received a healing miracle?   I am puzzled, truly I am. 

For years, I was taught that "If it is God's will" he would heal.  I carried this belief for many years.  Until the day a young cancer patient for whom we'd been praying experienced a relaspe and died.  I told my husband "Well I guess that was God's will..."  I'll never forget his reply.  "Where, WHERE in the Bible does it say that Jesus cured anyone by letting them die?!"  I was astonished.  He was right!  Nowhere did it state in the new testament that it was God's will for anyone to die of illness.  Lazarus was raised from the dead.  The record states that those present protested when Jesus called Lazarus to come out of his grave. "But Lord, he stinketh."  That pretty much says how dead Lazarus was doesn't it?   Yet out walked a whole man, one who was most obviously alive, stinking grave clothes and all.  

I've questioned myself over and over again.  When I don't receive healing, am I lacking in faith?  Am I lacking in faith when I've prayed for another and they don't receive healing?  Am I not doing something right?  Is there a special formula required that I'm unaware of?   Obviously I have a long way to go in understanding healing.  I know that it can happen.  I've been healed.  I've seen my dog healed.  I've experienced God's miracles first hand.   What do I need to do?  How much more do I need to believe to see this healing miracle occur over and over and over again? 

God's ways aren't the ways of man...And my understanding at this time is so limited.  But I've seen the wonder of Him, of all His works.   I believe Lord, help my unbelief!  Help me, Lord, to understand.

Currently Reading Face to Face With God By Bill Johnson see related

He Understands Everything

Over the last few years, I've become increasingly aware that a great deal of my unhappiness in life has been due to broken relationships.  My father was an alcoholic...my mom had her own demons to deal with as a co-dependent and compulsive being.  My brothers and I drifted apart due to lack of trust (stemming back to the alcoholism).  My grandmother and I never shared a close and loving relationship due to the violent nature of my alcholic uncle.  My eldest child and I often had issues that drove a wedge between us.  Two of my  children were  dealing with issues of broken relationships with their father.  My granddaughters now live so far away and are so seldom available when I make phone calls that I felt they too had been torn from me.  And our eldest son lives on the West coast, recently married and announced his intentions to avoid the east coast altogether in his future...

One night I got mad.  I got really mad.  And I began to scream and cry and shout and I told Satan just what I thought of all the broken relationships in my life.  I told him I'd enough.  That I wasn't gonna take it anymore.  I drew a line in the sand and dared him to do any more damage in my life or to cause me anymore unhappiness.  And then my daugher and I had a falling out and she told me to stay out of her life forever.  In the face of Satan's latest attack I did the only thing I could do.  I laughed.  I laughed and I smiled and I carried on quite naturally.  My husband was astonished.  "How is this so?  When this has happened in the past you've gone all to pieces!"  I nodded.  "Yes, but I know something now.  Had I not been a threat to his hold on my life, he'd never have attacked me in this area.  But God will restore my relationship with my daughter.  I have complete faith in that."

A few weeks ago, after losing her grandfather my eldest did write a brief note.  "Write me, Mama.  Write anything.  Just write."  It was the first time since our falling out that she'd reached out.   So I began to write her of the nothing and the everyday.  The ordinary stuff of homemaking and family life and nature.  And she asked that I write her a little everyday, even if she didn't reply.  So I've kept on. 

I've been working my way very slowly, very very slowly, despite my quick reading habits, the book Face To Face With God by Bill Johnson.  I determined that I'd spend this year getting to know God, really getting to know Him.  And this book, while not intended as part of my study (I had two others based on the Names of God that I was using) was a gift to my husband at Christmas time.  Little did I know that this book is written from the standpoint of getting to know God.

The book is filled to the brim with gems that send me into tears, or wonder, or joy.  In one chapter, the author mentions that God so loved Adam and Eve that he came to earth to walk with them.  It hit me suddenly that God wanted to know us, wanted us to know him, wanted to walk daily with each of us.  I wept.  But last night I could only sit in stunned wonder at the words on the page in front of me. 

This isn't an exact quote but the gist of what the author said: Since Adam and Eve fell into sin, the relationship between God and man has been broken.  God has worked every thing from that moment to bring us back into a relationship with Him.

How could I have thought God didn't care about my broken relationships?  How could I have thought I was alone in my grief at the number of broken relationships in my life?  How much it means to me that God has been working on my behalf to restore broken relationships in my life!  He gave me the opportunity to restore the relationship between my father and I when my dad became ill and it was necessary for me to care for his daily needs.  He restored my relationship with my surviving brother when we faced daddy's illness and the subsequent legal tangle together  after his death.  He had worked to restore the relationship with my daughter through her grandfather's passing. 

Because He understood all along.  He was grieved by our broken relationship with Him.  He wanted to bring restoration to my life, into our relationship with each other!  Praise God.  He understands and He cares!

Turning a Blessing into a Curse

Twice in the last few days I've taken notice of a rather odd thing...People have been complaining about their blessings!  Lest you think I am pointing fingers at others, I've had my eyes open to my own complaints, complaints about my blessings.

It began with a relative who was blessed with a monthly allowance from a deceased family member.  "It's thrown me into a new tax bracket and NOW I have to pay the taxes!"  She told me the amount of taxes she'd have to pay, a goodly sized sum...but she was getting nearly 9 times that amount from the allowance! 

The second incident concerned a friend who had longed for a previously unattainable food item.  Then someone gifted her with a large amount, enough for now and enough to store for later.  She was delighted at first, but has gradually begun to complain about the gift.  "Everytime I open the cupboard there it is, staring at me!  I'm sick of looking at it!"

I am, as I said, just as guilty.  And frankly, I'm blessed that these complaints opened my eyes to my own failings.  I complain about doing the dishes, without thinking about what those dirty dishes represent: my family, food enough to prepare meals.  I complain about laundry when that laundry represents a long ago prayer.  I was once so poor that I had only two pairs each of underwear, socks, pants and two blouses.   Now I can open the closet and seriously ponder which of several pieces I shall wear.  I complain about the way the new coat I was given shows lint...Yet for many years I had no coat to wear in the winter at all.  I am cursing my blessings each time I open my mouth to complain.

I'm sharply reminded of the Israelites when Moses took them out of Egypt.  God blessed them, pouring out manna from heaven so that they need not stop to plant crops, he even doubled his blessing on the day before the Sabbath...and the people complained.  And God gave them meat to eat. In Numbers 11 he says this: "You will not eat it for just one day, or two days, or five, ten or twenty days, 20 but for a whole month—until it comes out of your nostrils and you loathe it."  He turned his blessing into a curse.  And my complaints are pushing me nearer the mark of having him do the same in my life!

Lord, forgive my grumbling spirit.  I know that I am blessed by You and I have been given more blessings than I had right to expect.  Help me to remember that you are the Provider, the one who pours out blessings.  Thank you Lord for your blessings in my life!  Amen.

Relay Race

Over the last few years I've been learning a great deal about prayer and what it can mean in your life.  I've felt a call to pray for others, and though I often feel I fail miserably, I take heart that God continually reminds me of someone who for reasons unknown to myself are in desperate need of prayer, or sends someone in my church family to ask for prayers.

Someone from church who'd worked with me on a prayer project called to tell me of a development in a family matter.   "Once I turned him over to you to pray for him, I felt God told me to STOP my own prayers.  I knew my prayers hadn't gotten me anywhere except frustrated.  So I followed His leading and I stopped praying about D (her family member).  Everytime I'd start to worry about D or wonder if anything was going to change, I'd think 'My friend is praying for this.  I can let it rest.'  It took a tremendous amount of stress off me and off the relationship.  And now just look what's happened to turn this whole matter around!"

It is not that my prayers were more powerful than hers.  She is a God filled woman, full of Spirit and grace.  But she was so close to the situation that she couldn't turn aside worry and fear and frustration.  I didn't know all of the circumstances of the problem but I'd certainly seen her anguish when she'd mention D and knew that it was a matter that was wearing her down.  I'd had no idea at the time that when I began to pray, she'd laid her own concern aside and simply trusted that I was carrying the prayers forward. 

Just a couple of weeks ago, my husband called to tell me how difficult he found a situation.  "I don't  know how much longer I can take this!" he exclaimed.  My husband is not one to back down from a challenging situation.  In fact, he gives new meaning to the phrase 'bull dog tough' when a problem wears on and on.  But I could see that this battle was taking a heavy toll on him.  When we ended the call, I began to pray for him and the problem.

While I was praying I kept picturing the track field at my old high school.  I strongly felt God leading me to call my husband back.  We spoke a little later that afternoon, and I asked him "Have you been praying for this situation?"  My husband's voice revealed the deep frustration he felt when he replied, "YES!  I don't know what else to do anymore!  It just continues to get worse and worse and I'm praying day and night about it."  "Then stop praying and let me pray for the situation instead."    My husband was stunned.  "You'd do that?  You'd take over this battle?  It's been so hard, you can't know what you're taking on!"   I pointed out that I wasn't close to the situation and wouldn't experience the same frustrations he had.  

I told him of the time I'd spent in prayer that morning and that I'd clearly felt that God wanted me to pray and for him to drop it.  "I don't have to face the situation all day long the way you do.  You're tired and need to let it go.  I just felt God was showing me that sometimes we have to pass the prayer to the next runner, the way a baton is passed in a relay race.  My spirit is fresh for this battle, you're tired and worn out by it."  My husband agreed to cease praying and let me take it over. Two weeks later he began to report small improvements as well as some revelations about underlying problems that he knew nothing about.  The situation still isn't fully resolved but there are positive changes taking place.

Last night my dear husband came home from work and said "I was talking to G tonight and he was telling me how frustrated he was over the situation with his son.  He said he'd been praying day and night for him and they are no closer to answers.  So I told him about the change I'd seen in my own problem after you took over prayer for it.  I told him I'd take his baton and run for him." 

Later I received a phone call from a friend.  We talked for quite some time and as we wound up the call she said "Wait a moment.  I've been making notes as we've talked and I want to ask you about these things."  She asked about several family members and their situations.  Then she said the most wonderful thing.  "I've made notes about this so I'll remember to pray for these things."  She came to me and took the baton.  There's a fresh runner in my race.