Child of the King

 

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God never makes us sensible of our weakness except to give us of His strength.
– Francois Fenelon

 Step into your destiny, Woman.

Come What May…

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I have heard a song in the night. Abba (Father God) sings over his child.

Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time

Come what may, come what may…

(From “Come What May” Songwriters David Baerwald, Kevin M Gilbert, Rudy Amado Perez)

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Ask, and it will be given to you;

seek, and you will find;

knock, and it will be opened to you.

For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.

Or what man is there among you who, when his son asks for a loaf, will give him a stone?

Or if he asks for a fish, he will not give him a snake, will he?

If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!

(Matthew 7: 7-10 NASB)

Our heavenly Father sings over you. Can you hear Him?

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Just Ask

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“Call to Me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.”
(Jeremiah 33:3 NASB)

I am learning to pray about how to pray before launching into giving God advice. Sometimes I am surprised at his response. Very surprised.

In 2 Kings 6 enemy army strategists complained that their plans were continually thwarted. The prophet Elisha seemed to have inside information on troop placement. “The prophet tells the words you speak in your bedroom!” they whined to the general.

God doesn’t give you an assignment without providing the tools and intelligence to do it. We don’t all work at the level of someone like Elisha, but even as toddlers in God’s Kingdom we have access to the very throne of God. We can ask. God encourages us to ask.

As we observe the systems of men falling to corruption, revenge, and more of the hatred and lack of honour for others that caused the problems in the first place, many people are calling out for a concerted prayer effort. They quote: “If  My people who are called by My name humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” (2 Chron. 7.14)

But how do we pray?

Ask!

Humility is the ability to say, “I don’t know. But I know who to ask.”

Prayer is about communication with the One who knows and loves us perfectly. It’s about relationship. Prayer is not like ordering from an Amazon wishlist. Prayer is leaning on the chest of the Creator of the Universe and listening to what is on his heart.

There is a war going on most people are not aware of. A war in high places. A war in the spiritual realm. A clash between two kingdoms in which one has already been defeated but has not yet relinquished its hold on all territory.

I don’t usually hear about troop placements, in case you were wondering. I do hear about God’s overwhelming love for hostages of the one who comes to kill, steal and destroy. Jesus came to set the captives free. He invites us to intercede the way he is interceding.

Do you feel the call to pray for your nation or other nations? He is ready to show you great and mighty things which you do not know about yet.

But you will.

Just ask.

 

 

 

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Like the Refreshing Rains

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I stood on my deck surrounded by a glorious sun shower. The abundance of light and refreshing cleansing rain seemed like  dramatic contrast to the ugliness of hatred in the world today.

This is part of  King David’s final prayer before leaving the rule of his country in the hands of his successor:

True God, bestow Your honest judgments upon the king
and anoint the king’s son with Your righteousness.

May he be honest and fair in his judgments over Your people
and offer justice to the burdened and suffering.

Under his reign, may this land of mountains and hills know peace
and experience justice for all the people.

May the king offer justice to the burdened and suffering,
rescue the poor and needy,
and demolish the oppressor!

[May the people fear You] for as long as the sun shines,
as long as the moon rises in the night sky, throughout the generations.

May the king be like the refreshing rains, which fall upon fields of freshly mown grass—
like showers that cool and nourish the earth.

May good and honest people flourish for as long as he reigns,
and may peace fill the land until the moon no longer rises.

(Psalm 72:1-7 The Voice )

Praying David’s prayer. May peace and justice fill the land -like refreshing rain.

 

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Everyday It’s a Getting Closer

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Discouragement has been trying to sneak into my heart lately. I bar the doors and it makes faces at me through the windows. I shut the curtains and it sticks out its tongue on the news reports. I flip through Netflix and see it dressed up as reason or compassion or as humour – in black of course. I shut the TV off and discouragement pops up on my phone. Even in-person conversations take a sudden tilt toward you-think-that’s-bad.

Here’s the thing. You can’t escape discouragement when you’ve allowed it to have a camping spot in your head.

We had a problem with mice in the house once. While we were on vacation they got into the pantry. Screaming may have been involved when I opened the doors. I set traps, cleaned up and stored everything in plastic bins after that, but they would still show up. (More screaming.) We called for help.

The exterminator searched all around and found we had a spilled bag of grass seed in the garden shed near the back door.

“There’s your problem,” he said. “They eat in your garden restaurant then come into the house to keep warm. They only need an opening as big as their nose to squeeze through. Get rid of what they are feeding on and they will go away.”

It was one of those moments when I heard God speaking with the accent of a pest control expert.

Get rid of what they are feeding on and they will go away.

I said this to someone else yesterday and heard God’s voice in my own.

Get rid of what discouragement is feeding on and it will go away.

What’s it feeding on? Words that don’t include His perspective. I call them Helena Handbasket speeches. Sometimes I listen to them and sometimes I make them myself.

“But the situation looks dire, Lord.”

“Come up here and see the big picture,” He says.

“How? I mean really. HOW?”

This morning I woke from a dream about  friends who were were shutting down a coffee shop kind of place. Business was too slow. A handicapped person came in looking for someone to talk to, then a shy older woman, then a child who offered to share her candy with the lady. All the while the shop was being readied for closure with chairs stacked on tables being pushed against the wall.

They made one more pot of free coffee for the people who had wandered in. While they set a couple of chairs back at a table more people showed up. They needed more tables and opened another section. More and more people were suddenly there. The thing they all seemed to have in common was loneliness and feeling like they didn’t belong anywhere and were out of place in time. Some even wore clothes from earlier decades.

The child sharing her candy had only meant to give it to one person, but it was passed around in a bowl and like the fish and barley loaves the disciples saw multiply as they passed baskets around, the candy in the dollar store crystal dish never ran out.

I woke up with a song in my head that I never paid much attention to before. I didn’t know more words than I needed to google it. A Buddy Holly song? Seriously?

 

“Why this one, Lord?”

“You asked for my perspective.”

These Helena Handbasket voices that make dire predictions? Well yes, there is a right and left perspective, neither of which can offer solutions, but there is also an up and down axis. And that is a game changer.

At one point in the dream a man who had been a addict ran out into the street from the now busy cafe and said, “People say change is not possible. I tell you it is! I am free and more people are being set free every day!”

Every. Day.

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Breaking Away

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Look who I found hiding out in Idaho? Well, everyone needs a break, I suppose.

Today, with the news still full of stories about the consequences of the UK’s vote to break away from the E.U., is the day I congratulate my friends to the south on their celebration of breaking away from our common parent country.

Today I am also sorting through stuff in my basement and I’ve come across a file of genealogy research – the family history of breaking away. It seems my grandmother’s great-grandparents broke away from the Americans.

Every once in a while it’s a good idea to ask, “How did we get here?” It’s all quite bizarre really.

Warning. I’m going to overgeneralize, but I’m talking about roots and patterns in the big picture. Usually, the way something is established is the way it is maintained.

I discovered, quite by accident, that my father’s grandmother was not First Nations as we supposed. Her surname was Towne and the Towne family line in America is so well researched the genealogy sites don’t bother to charge for the information. I could follow a straight line from Andrew to Andrew Elijah to Andrew to Stephen to Stephen to Jacob to Jacob to William Towne and his wife, Joanna Blessing, who were part of the new Puritan colony in Massachusetts. Three of their daughters were tried as witches in Salem. Two were hung.

This shocked me! I was raised in an environment that was anti-American. I had no idea I had American roots, let alone connections to the Mayflower Puritans and the Salem witch trials! Our source of Canadian identity was the statement “We are not Americans!”

Then I followed the trail and realized that sometime between the American Revolution and the War of 1812 my ancestors broke away from this new independent country and moved to Renfrew county in Ontario where the United Empire Loyalists settled. Violence and persecution chased them.

When my great-grandmother was a child her mother died. Her father was away working as a logger and when he returned he found the children alone in the cabin having buried their mother themselves. Since he couldn’t care for them he split the children up amongst distant relatives. One of his daughters was sent to live with a family in New York. Apparently she was treated cruelly. She was not permitted to go to school and slept in the barn. At the age of thirteen she ran away and headed north looking for her father.

After living on her own in the bush all summer Algonkin people found her. They took her in and raised her, teaching her the skills of living off the land. Later she married a Scottish hunter/trapper and raised her own family thirty miles from the nearest road. She had skills. Dad says at an old age she made him moccasins and was still an incredible sharp shooter. Her N.Y. experience added (unfairly) to the family lore about the nature of Americans. How easy it is to pass on the burden of our pain to our children.

At the same time I learned the reason we couldn’t trace one family line past a certain grandfather was that there was no record of his father. An astute cousin did notice, however that his mother and maternal grandfather had the same surname. It was not uncommon for illegitimate sons of wealthy Englishmen to be given a tract of land in Canada as their hidden inheritance.

Now I don’t believe in generational curses. That’s Old Covenant stuff. Jesus sets us free from the law of sin and death, but I do see patterns of temptation that follow family lines – especially when unforgiveness is passed on. I noticed this when studying church history as well. It is amazing how often a group that breaks away in protest manifests problems in the same area that caused them to break away within two or three generations. When we insist that “we are NOT them” we set ourselves up to become them.

My husband was invited to a Southern Baptist Independence Day/Sunday school picnic while he was working in Phoenix one summer. He told me about someone getting up and reciting the entire Declaration of Independence.

“I had no idea this thing goes on and on about why they hated the British so much and especially the king. I thought it was about their vision for their country. No. It’s mostly about protesting their treatment by the British government. It’s rather bitter.”

We have many friends in Canada who were either born in the USA or who had a parent born there who recently found themselves in deep trouble with the IRS. Apparently they were supposed to have filed tax returns in the States even though some of them had never lived or worked there.  The tax collectors demanded that foreign banks turn over private information on these folk. It cost some shop owners thousands in accountant fees to prove they owed nothing. When they were advised to contact their congressman about the threat of heavy fines (and other heavy-handed consequences the tax people are known for) they protested, “We don’t have a congressman! We don’t live there anymore. This is taxation without representation!” Oh, the irony.

When my ancestors broke away from religious tyranny they had no intention of becoming tyrants themselves, and yet in less than one generation a government backed by crazy fear-based religion hung innocent people accused of witchcraft.

When the United Empire Loyalist forefathers broke away because they opposed solving disputes with violence they ended up being part of the crew that burned down parts of Washington in the war of 1812.

Both countries, which in the 19th century were run by descendants of landless non-eldest sons and bastard sons and peasants craving property, have a history of taking for themselves land legitimately belonging to First Nations people. Sometimes they used violence, and more often, in Canada, fraud, legal loop holes and long delays. They even deliberately plied with whiskey, introduced disease, and destroyed the family unit by forcing children into residential schools.

Yesterday I read a report that ordinary people can’t afford to live in cities like Vancouver anymore because the best land is being bought up by foreigners who are even craftier than they were. Oh, the irony.

Both countries are now populated, for the most part, by the children of refugees and immigrants who fled the hopelessness of rigid class structure and rule by the elite. Now descendants of these very people have become the new oligarchy, the ones who hold the wealth and power and who decide who will be in charge of the government, the courts – and the tax office. Oh, the irony.

How do we break the pattern? By recognizing it, confessing to sin we have accepted as a normal way of doing business, by offering repentance (metanoia -change) on behalf of our forefathers and choosing to think differently. Where possible we need to issue apologies and make restitution.

The same goes for denominations formed as a result of protest, rebellion, sneakiness and lack of honour for those who have given us our roots. If you leave a legalistic church without reconciling differences don’t be surprised if your children or grandchildren have problems with rules -either having too many or too few. If you leave because a church is wealthy and doesn’t care for the poor your grandchildren could find themselves in a mega-church with catered prayer meetings at $25 dollars a pop, or becoming professional beggars looking for more ways to fund raise..

Just watch. I’m not making this up.

I’ve done this before, but I want to make it public again today. I forgive the British government for depriving my ancestors of the right of freedom of religion and recognition as sons. I forgive the American government for acting violently toward my ancestors. I forgive the family that abused my great-grandmother. I forgive the church I was raised in for not understanding the needs of the poor among them. I want to break the pattern of both distrust and complacency that I have accepted as normal in relationships with authority of all kinds.

Especially today, I want to apologize to Americans for decades of dinner discussions that expressed fear and distrust and offered more criticism than prayer. I have dedicated myself to praying for you for the past few years and I will continue to pray

GOD BLESS AMERICA!

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Nothing is Too Hard for You

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Ah, Lord God!

It is you who have made the heavens

and the earth by your great power

and by your outstretched arm!

Nothing is too hard for you.

(Jeremiah 32:17 ESV)

Great Shall Be the Peace

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All your children shall be taught by the Lord,
and great shall be the peace of your children.

In righteousness you shall be established;
you shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear;
and from terror, for it shall not come near you.

(Isaiah 54:13, 14 ESV)