Words That Both Pierce and Heal

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No one speaks words so anointed as this one—
words that both pierce and heal,
words like lilies dripping with myrrh.

(Song of Songs 5:13 TPT)

A woman told me how excited a doctor was when he diagnosed her mother with an extremely rare disease. He was quite proud of himself.

“The problem,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes, “was that he could offer no cure. She died soon after.”

Living under religious laws is like that. Performance-based religious systems are quite good at telling you what you are doing wrong and why, but without empowering grace to change the heart, well, nothing changes. The law is like a doctor who can tell you what you’re dying of, but can’t fix it.

I have learned that truth hurts, especially when I’ve been avoiding it for too long. But I’ve also learned that unlike people who have knowledge without power, the Lover of my soul never puts his finger on a pain in my heart that he doesn’t intend to heal. Like a surgical laser, His words both pierce and heal and the result is always greater freedom.

For if you embrace the truth, it will release more freedom into your lives. – Jesus

 

Mission Possible

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I’m thinking of instituting a film rating system based on trombones. A chick-flick can be rated for emotional content by the number of tissues used. An epic film requires a score written for trombones and some sort of electronically produced bass. A medieval clash in the forest – one trombone. An interplanetary collision that rocks the universe? Five trombones.

I think I am finally beginning to understand something. After several days of watching movies chosen by three generations of men in my family, I felt like I was suffering from PTSD. Last evening I holed up in a bedroom with a book while explosions and monster noises emanating from the new sound system in the basement shook the house. I felt exhausted. Every nerve jangled on high alert. (Discovery: God does not issue real grace for fictional film crises.)

The movies this week had similar themes. The world is dark. Evil has a death grip on hope. You can’t always tell the good guys from the bad guys. Just when a protagonist has eluded certain annihilation or won a battle against impossible odds, another heavily armed enemy steps into the hallway or lands with a dishware-shaking thud in front of a disabled space vehicle.

I don’t know about the main character or characters, but I am tired after just watching – and I haven’t even been shot, stabbed, punched or launched through the air by a creature with fingers as thick as my thigh. 10,000 may fall at his right side, but somehow this lone misunderstood guy (or this group of oddly gifted last bastions of truth and right) keeps going.

I watch my grandson who, as a teenager, has recently been admitted to the fraternity of watchers of movies with adult ratings and parental guidance warnings. As a grandmother I want to protect his innocence as long as possible. You see, the years between us mean that I have seen the consequences of evil. For him, it’s mostly theoretical. I know too much, most of that knowledge garnered the hard way. My scars bear witness.

But I can’t protect him. He is already surrounded by absurd philosophies and circumstances my parents never dreamed of. He is now the one preparing to take up the sword. He is becoming a man with a growing drive to fight evil, injustice, and hypocrisy. (God help the parent of a teen with a radar for hypocrisy!) The enemy of our souls may try to hinder this upcoming generation by throwing deception and distraction, but many of them know there is more than hopeless acceptance of corruption. They see the light on the horizon. The hope of eternity is planted in their hearts. They are warriors.

The mission is not impossible. God equips his children with unlikely weapons and powerful gifts that include love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. As the angel Gabriel said to a girl who was probably still a teenager: “Not one promise from God is empty of power, for nothing is impossible with God!”

This grandmother never stops praying for wisdom and that they will be protected from temptation to fight anyone but the enemy in any other way but God’s way.

 

As One

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Your mercy and your truth have married each other.
Your righteousness and peace have kissed.

(Psalm 85:10 TPT)

A quick read-through of the social media sites I participate in reminds me that thinking the way God does about truthandmercy and righteousnessandpeace does not come naturally to the unrenewed mind.

Sometimes I am confused when a couple has a combined name on a Facebook account. Who am I talking to? One such couple answered my query with, “Us. We tag team.”

I don’t get it. My man and I will have been married 46 years this autumn, and we have never perfectly agreed on anything for more than a few minutes. How could we speak as one?

I love the classic joke from an old episode of All In the Family. Malory tells her brother, Alex, that it’s like she and her boyfriend “have one mind.” After the perfectly timed pause he asks, “Which one of you is using it tonight?”

The only way my husband and I could tag team and trust each other to give the exact same response would be if one of us was redundant – or taken over by drugs or cyborgs or something. I’m the artsy feeling one. He’s the logical scientific one. We have to discuss everything. For hours.

Maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s the diversity and the broader perspective of seeing more than one side and still being in unity that creates a bigger definition of a concept.

God is multifaceted and sees many sides at the same time. Being totally One there is no polarity, no gap, no need to choose between his concept of mercy and his understanding of perfect truth or his definition of righteousness and his experience of peace.

There is more.

 

Within

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She suffered a lot those last few years. My mother told me she survived the long, dark, sleepless nights by remembering and reciting passages of scripture. Think what you will of a person who wants more than scientific facts about the disease process and research into potential treatments (that still need more development). This is where what you have come to know about who God is plays out. In the dark. In pain. Alone.

My mother found great solace in her Saviour. “Jesus? Oh, he’s wonderful!” she said with a smile on one of the worst nights of my life when I took her to the hospital for the last time. He was with her on those dark nights. Moments before she left us her face lit up like a delighted child on Christmas morning. She saw someone, someone she knew, and she ran to him.

After she passed away, I helped my father sort through her belongings. In the drawer I found scraps of paper wound into tiny scrolls. Each one contained a Bible verse of promise. I keep them in a treasure box now. She was a poor woman by most people’s standards, but she left me a wonderful inheritance.

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The real treasure, the little scrolls tell me, is not in a box, or even in a book. The real treasure, the secret treasure of the ages, the treasure of greatest value now lies within us when Christ enters our lives.

There is a divine mystery—a secret surprise that has been concealed from the world for generations, but now it’s being revealed, unfolded and manifested for every holy believer to experience.

Living within you is the Christ who floods you with the expectation of glory!

This mystery of Christ, embedded within us, becomes a heavenly treasure chest of hope filled with the riches of glory for his people, and God wants everyone to know it!

(Colossians 1:26,27 TPT)

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Whether we are healed physically in this dimension, or move on to a greater one (which we all do eventually) we can live in hope. We are continually flooded with the expectation of the riches of his glory because we abide in Christ and Christ is embedded within us.

Christ in you, the hope of glory.

The greatest treasure. Ever.

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Defying Disappointment

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It’s a dangerous business, this truth-telling.

Sometimes the truth can shake our world so much that we long to return to the way things were before. Sometimes, truth be told, we don’t want to know the truth. Our versions of reality may have many fault lines, but at least we know how they work. We can get by. Sort of. Most of the time.

And then we can’t.

Truth crashes the party and ruins everything. At least that’s what it feels like.

When a messenger bearing truth points a finger at the rickety ramps and bridges and shelters we’ve built on a false foundation it’s easy to hate that uncompromising finger. We blame the messenger, because, well, it’s got to be somebody’s fault, right?

I’ve been on both ends of this conversation. I blew the whistle and it resulted in a big mess. A falsely serene lifestyle came at the cost of a child’s innocence. She was tormented not only by a perpetrator, but by the denial of people who were supposed to look after her. I knew what it was like to cry and not be heard. I decided to listen to the child and take her seriously. All hell broke loose, but I’m not sorry.

I also know what it is like to have a truckload of unwanted facts dumped on my head when I didn’t think I possessed the necessary resources to cope with the consequences of acknowledging them. It felt like an enormous earthquake that shook the foundations of my life. Like many truths this one’s roots tangled with other roots. Pulling it up unearthed even more sordid stuff I had managed to block out of my memory.

I dropped into a pit of despair where a sense of trust vanished like a vapour. When I eventually revealed details to people in a position to make a difference, they reminded me that “love covers a multitude of sins,” and urged me to “forgive and forget.” It took a while to realize that the person who betrayed my trust also betrayed theirs. Public admission of that fact would totally mess up their lives too.

As another muzzled victim said, “With genius you forgive a lot. The organization needed him. Their reputation and income depended on maintaining the status quo. Administration decided loss of integrity was the cost of doing business and you and I, my dear, were delegated to the expenses paid column.” It  felt like a second betrayal.

Betray is an odd word. In modern usage it carries two opposing concepts. The root word comes from Latin word, tradere, meaning “to hand over.” When someone who is part of a group reveals secret weaknesses that expose vulnerabilities to rivals they may be called “disloyal” and receive the label “betrayer.” Yet, interestingly, when someone intentionally abuses power to use or mislead others within the group, they can also be accused of an act of betrayal.

Whether the bearer of truth is seen as the betrayer or the betrayed depends on the point of view of the people affected. It’s actually a subjective label based on who stands to benefit.

I felt horribly alone and came undone for a while, but God provided resources as I needed them. With the help of kind counselors, a supportive husband and friends, books, and a growing sense of Jesus as a brother who had suffered everything I had but still loved enough to give his life for the world, my soul was restored and rebuilt on a better foundation. When I understood that my needs were going to be met by the One who loves me perfectly and who forgave me too, I could begin to take my hands off the throat of those who betrayed me. I could hand my cry for justice over to the One whose end goal is always restoration. I could also speak the truth openly without carrying shame that was not mine. The process taught me about the goodness of God and his relentlessly kind and freeing love.

Memories of this time in my life came back in the context of a powerfully emotional dream I had earlier this week. I believe the Lord wants me to share it because it’s about the times we live in.

I saw a line strung between two poles. Old blankets and sheets hung on the line like laundry, but they were so heavy the poles started to be pulled over by the weight.

I heard, “Don’t hang more curses on this line. It is already under enormous strain. Be careful with your words.”

I watched the line stretch almost to breaking, then I heard, “They will blame the messenger for this. They will turn on the ones who dared to speak the truth.”

I suddenly felt overwhelmed with despair, disappointment, and fear. It was as if I felt the suffering of thousands of people who just realized they had been betrayed. I experienced a deep shaking, at first in my chest, and then all around me like the foundations were sinking in a way I have seen in films about massive earthquakes.

“What is this?” I asked.

“A shaking. A tidal wave of disappointment.”

The combined powerful emotions and physical sensation of not feeling the ground under me was extremely upsetting.

“What should I do?”

“Shift your focus. Turn the tide by focusing on God and thanking and praising him for all he has done for you.”

I woke up and did just that. I didn’t have to think or compose thoughts or sentences. Praise flowed from my lips. I was still shaking, but the feelings lifted. I realized then the strong emotions were not merely mine. I was feeling empathy for the suffering of others without hope.

When I picked up my phone to check the time I saw a shocking message. A tsunami warning had been issued moments earlier. A major earthquake shook the plates near Alaska and instigated the necessity of a warning of a possible tidal wave for the central coast and islands of western Canada.

I watched and prayed for the rest of the night. My prayer consisted mostly of praise to the One who calmed the sea. I thanked him for everything I could think of. Eventually, even though several of my friends on the coast were evacuated to higher ground during the night, the all-clear sounded and they returned to safe dry homes. I believe this was a confirmation that the message was not for me alone.

I’ve been pondering the experience. I’m very serious about the strength of the emotion of this dream and the attention-grabbing statement: A tidal wave of disappointment.

I sense a shake-up coming. Every day we hear reports of resignations and allegations of corruption and institutional complicity exposed by those brave enough to speak up. People have known about these open secrets for years, so I have to ask, “Why now?”

I wonder if the spiritual atmosphere is shifting in response to the prayers of many for light of Christ to shine in dark places. I wonder if this is the beginning of a reformation and restoration of solid foundations and an answer to the humble cry for justice. Judgment starts in the house of the Lord, so it doesn’t surprise me at all that some of the first places to be exposed are religious institutions that have abused power.

Abuse victims are not the only ones affected by betrayal of trust. When families, friends, co-workers, and colleagues are confronted with a different reality than denial has constructed it’s earth-shaking. The Bible says a brother offended is harder to be won than a strong tower and the list of offended brothers and sisters is reaching a breaking point.

I believe we are in a season when many evils are coming to light – in ourselves, in our families, in churches, and in communities right up to world government systems. Even the earth itself groans as the shifting moves foundations. After all these years I am not surprised when people respond with denying or minimizing or blame-shifting when confronted by the seriousness of the discovery of corruption in their midst. In a sense we have all been complicit in a corrupt system ever since our first parents decided to defy their maker. Our first response is often to block out the light that reveals things we don’t want to see. It takes time and courage to do the right thing because we need to be able to have faith when we know this is going to be messy.

But here’s the thing, God is good. He does supply the resources we need to heal. We will see them when we shift our focus from our own short-sighted devices to the God who loves and makes provision for our growth by giving us the right tools at the right time.

If you wonder why you have known both the despair of disappointment and the joy of restoration in your life, perhaps you are one of the healers God is preparing for such a time as this. Like their lord, Jesus, safe people have learned how to suffer and still be able to love. They know the power of love to cast out fear, no matter the circumstance. Sons and daughters of God who know they are loved perfectly by Him have no need to exploit others. They know Jesus came to set the captives free.

Watch. Worship. Be at peace. His plans for you are good.

Hope thou in God for I shall yet praise Him, my glory and the lifter of my head.

Grace-fountain Strength

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But Lord, your nurturing love is tender and gentle,

You are slow to get angry, yet swift to show your faithful love,

You are full of abounding grace and truth.

Bring me to your grace-fountain

So that your strength becomes mine.

(Psalm 86: 15, 16 TPT)

You can’t give what you have never received. If the message you have been hearing is that you are a disgusting wretched sinner who (in spite of years of failed efforts) needs to gather up the shreds of your tattered will and try harder, you need to step into the grace fountain and soak up some love.

Let the Shepherd nurture you with His tender, gentle love. Let His strength become your strength and his grace flow through you, not around you. Let the Holy Spirit living in you transform you from a wretch to royalty.

There is a war going on. Hostages of the evil one are believing his lies and acting on them in the streets. You see it.

You are not a victim. You are not without hope. You are loved by the King of the Universe.

You were born for such a time as this.

I Am Telling You the Truth!

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I’m home now, resting after major surgery in another city. I can’t bend over to pick up anything I’ve dropped or lift anything heavier than a jug of milk for the next few weeks. Sitting for more than the length of a quick meal is still uncomfortable, but couch time with a pile of good books and a remote in hand is actually a guilty pleasure – with a built-in excuse.

It’s raining. The streets are glare ice and our home and garden are still under several feet of saturated snow after the heaviest snowfall in decades. I don’t plan to go anywhere and thus far the house remains mostly dry inside.The storm of the last week is over. My husband is back at work and there is time to think.snow-day-cars-img_6641

Before we left, on the one day the roads were in good condition before the second storm hit, someone asked the question, “In your reading of Jesus’ words lately what stands out the most?”

I recently watched the film “The Gospel of John” which uses the scripture as the entire dialogue of the screenplay. What I heard Jesus say over and over again was this: I’m telling you the truth. In the olde King James version I grew up with he said, “Verily, verily.” In the original language of the Bible he said “Amen, Amen…” When amen was said at the end of a statement it meant “I agree.” When Amen prefaced a statement it meant, “I’m about to say something important.” When a word was repeated it meant “I am about to say something truly important. I’m serious here, folks.”

In the gospel of John alone Jesus says amen amen before a statement at least twenty times. I asked myself why.

This week I discovered what it is like not to be taken seriously about an issue that was important to me. Two days after being released from the hospital after major abdominal surgery I suddenly doubled over in severe pain. I’ve had this kind of pain before. It felt like I was passing a kidney stone. I was staying in a small town about an hour out of the city resting up for the next part of the trip home. I slowly crawled up the stairs on hands and knees and asked to be driven to the hospital emergency room since our host could get me there faster than an ambulance.

Kidney stones hurt. When your belly has just been cut open, things moved and removed, and then sewn back up, kidney stones really, really hurt. The power words I have been saving up for moments of high drama seemed inadequate. And “Verily, verily, I hurteth,” was not going to cut it.

I told my driver to move her car out of the ambulance bay to a parking spot because I thought I would be okay walking to the triage desk myself.

Wrong. I clung to a wall trying not to pass out from pain. The lady behind the desk ignored me. Another patient in the waiting room ran and brought a wheelchair, but then I just sat there in the middle of the hallway unable to propel myself. Eventually my driver came back and pushed me up to the glass door in front of the triage desk. After waiting a period of time, which probably felt longer than it actually was, a person took my information.

“On a scale of one to ten with ten being the worst pain you…

“Ten!!!” I gasped.

“Take this paper to the desk [way over there] with your health insurance card, fill out the admissions form, and have a seat in the waiting room. We’ll call you,” she said.

I had just come from one of the finest surgical centers in the country. I had a team of nurses and technicians who cared for me around the clock, helped me breathe, helped me sit up, put on my slippers and helped me go to the bathroom. They even flushed for me. Now I sat in a hard plastic chair, squirming, shaking and sweating, wondering if lying on the floor would be a better option. They didn’t call me for nearly two hours. (Thank God prayer was more efficient and the pain level had lowered by then.)

They didn’t believe me.

When drug addicts become known at the larger city hospitals they start hitting the smaller outlying health services seeking relief from withdrawal. The people at this hospital didn’t know me. Perhaps they thought I was drug-seeking. They had seen it before. Perhaps they didn’t believe me because they didn’t know me or my character.

It wasn’t until late in the evening, when the pain subsided and after my family helped me back into bed at home, that the emergency room doctor called and said the x-rays proved I was telling the truth. That’s when he asked if I needed pain medication.

Now my news was not good news. Unlike Jesus I was not there for anyone’s benefit but my own. But in that experience I felt what it was like not to be believed despite the best evidence I could produce.

Today I watched the film again. In this part (midway through this scene) Jesus tells them who he is. He reminds them of the witness of John the Baptist.

They do not believe him.

They shrug as if saying, “Yeah. We’ve seen people with selfish motives before. We’ve heard lies before. We’ve been deceived and disappointed before.”

Jesus says over and over “I am telling you the truth!” Then he says something which cuts to the heart of their disbelief.

I’m telling you the truth! I can only do what my Father tells me. You don’t know me because you don’t know my Father!

These were the religious experts, the ones who told everyone else who God was and what he wanted. What a politically incorrect, offensive statement in that place, at the heart of religious government!

cards-img_6814I have a drawer full of greeting cards ready to send in polite acknowledgement of special occasions. People also send them to me. Some are carefully chosen after reading dozens in the store display, but sometimes they just come from a box bought at the dollar store because you need to stick a card (that a kid will never read) on a birthday gift. Sometimes I read the gospels and skim over the verily, verily passages like I am reading a stack of birthday or get well cards full of sentiments written by card designers who don’t have a clue who I am. Thank you. That’s nice, Jesus.

But do I really hear him? He looks me in the face and asserts with a strong tone:

I am telling you the truth,” Jesus replied. “Before Abraham was born, ‘I Am’.”

I am telling you the truth: those who hear my words and believe in him who sent me have eternal life. They will not be judged, but have already passed from death to life.

I am telling you the truth: I am the gate for the sheep. All others who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Those who come in by me will be saved; they will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only in order to steal, kill, and destroy. I have come in order that you might have life—life in all its fullness.

I am telling you the truth: those who believe in me will do what I do—yes, they will do even greater things, because I am going to the Father.

I am telling you the truth: the Father will give you whatever you ask of him in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name; ask and you will receive, so that your happiness may be complete.

Do we truly believe Jesus is who he says he is? Do we treat his statements like nice sayings in a greeting card? Do we truly believe he is telling the truth?