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You would think by the time we pulled our butts up trees to keep from being swept away by the life-threatening river, we wouldn’t have risked it again the next day… And certainly not without life vests! Well, you would be wrong! In fact, still shivering from the cold, hearts just returning to a survivable pace and pieces of tree and brush still stuck in our hair, we were already talking about our second trip, considering, of course, the weather was good. We weren’t complete idiots, after all. Sunshine and no threat of rain was a must! Huh. Funny how safe that sounded then.

The next day we waited a little longer, watching the skies closely and looking forward to our long anticipated leisure ride down the river. I have since learned that there is no such thing as a leisure ride down the river when said river consists of rocks and trees and a current that has the power to completely sweep you away from all you might have considered safe and leisurely. No. There are no “leisure rapids;” that’s what we call an oxymoron! And, I moronically believed it was possible… It takes two misadventures to learn a lesson, apparently. Sadly, that is also often true in my life.

Again, we hadn’t gotten off good before chaos crept up, and again we were carelessly laughing when tragedy struck…in the form of a tree. To be honest, I’m still not 100% sure what happened. I was on the end of the lady line of inner tubes, splashing my duct-taped feet (my redneck rigged water shoes), and laughing as my sweet friends dodged limbs and ducked, completely oblivious to how quickly our outing would change, again. All I noticed was how rapidly the ropes slipped out of my hands and that one of the inner-tubes was stuck in the tree and flipped over with my fellow laughing friend gone. That immediately ceased to be funny. What also ceased to be funny was the realization that I was on my own, drifting down river, and my friends were not able to help. I remember looking back, taking in the upside down inner tube and knowing that there was no way I could fight the current to get back to them. I also knew what lay ahead, and for a moment I was terrified. So I yelled out, “Okay! It’s me and You, God! I trust you!” And I did. I had learned that much from the day before.

What happened next was simply amazing. In fact, the next ten minutes of my ride were nothing short of beautiful! How can I say that when I’m careening down a river without a life vest and headed toward certain danger? Well, I can say it with certainty. Just seconds after losing complete sight of my friends, I saw two deer crossing the river… The same roaring current that was projecting me forward was like nothing to their sure feet. It was peaceful. A moment of tranquility to interrupt the chaos and confusion, and I found myself weeping and thanking God for it – of course it might have sounded more like, “Thank you, Lord, for this beautiful scene before I die!” but it was sincere and I felt blessed. A few minutes later, looking around me, remembering the coming rapids and wondering if I had it in me to take on the next hour on my own, I saw this beautiful crane sweep over me, no less than 3 feet long, and close enough to touch! And I felt it; I was not alone. He was with me. The verse, “Though the waters rise, they will not overcome you,” filled my heart and mind and the fear of the unknown and the events of the day before and whether or not my friend was drowned was accompanied by peace. This is what they call “peace that passes understanding” I think. I might have been on my own, but I was not out of His sight. He would lead me on, safely, securely…as He would my friends. But I had to decide – Try to stop or keep going?

I was honestly willing to do either; at that point, I was convinced that no harm would befall me, but I also knew that I hadn’t yet hit the roughest rapids and still had 45 minutes of adventure to go. I called out to God for wisdom. This is important to note because just a few short weeks before, I found myself in a whole heap of trouble because I trusted my emotions instead of relying on His spiritual wisdom. I knew that was my downfall and, as much as my emotions and love for God told me I could make it, there was another voice that begged a listen. That’s when I saw the inlet. It was the only public inlet available to take, and it was on the left and I was in the middle; to get over would take considerable strength, strength I doubted I had. This, too, is important to note. You see, for years I believed that I wasn’t strong enough to say no, to walk away, to stand up for myself – for many, painful years, and for many painful years I never tried. But the voice of a dear friend of mine echoed in my heart, “Leslie, you’re stronger than you realize!” I’d laughed at him then, but I believed it now. God would give me strength to get out! I still find myself amazed at how quickly and swiftly I got over to the inlet. I am tempted to say it must have been a place in the river that was still and slower, but the sore, bruised muscles were testament to my exertion and to His provision.

Next, I sat on the shore and waited, watched a beautiful monarch butterfly light next to my foot, and waited. In that time I had serious moments of what I’ll call “spiritual ADD.” I jumped from praising God for helping me, to marveling at His creation, to praying for Him to protect and save my friends, to wondering if i could also crush the head of a snake should it appear, to remembering the beauty of the scenes around me, to feeling His love and delight while I popped in and out of random thoughts! I’m not sure how long all that lasted, but it soared to a crescendo when I heard a voice, a female voice that I recognized and loved! I felt like a kid at Christmas as I watched them approach. I clapped and praised and laughed and cried! I had been found! But, all that I saw were two – two of my four friends were missing. I quickly got the story that Becky wasn’t dead but that she and Lisa were across the river looking for a way to get home. I was relieved, and I was reunited with two of my favorite ladies; it would all be okay. I just knew it.

United, we continued on in our journey. Dodging rocks and maneuvering around rapids, we made our way back home. I even found a moment to enjoy the ride, and find some fun in the rapids. Then, almost before we knew it, we were at our stopping place. Thinking to stick my feet in the rocks (and thanking God for my redneck water shoes!) I tried to come to a stop, but either I weighed less than the day before (highly unlikely!), or I was too confident, or I didn’t plan it just right. Whatever the case, I found myself stuck and unable to move. Eventually, I found the strength to take myself out of the inner tube and throw it to shore, but about that time I heard a cry for help. My other two friends weren’t faring well, either; both were holding onto trees for dear life! I was determined to help out the closest one to me. So I stepped back into the river, raging current and all! I admit, it wasn’t the smartest, but I was very determined and again, confident in the One Who could keep my head above water!

As I waded back in I realized exactly how swift and sure the current was; the undertow was powerful and strong. I grabbed hold of what I thought was a tree and reached out to assist…only it wasn’t the tree I held but a limb, and I stared in horror as it tore loose from the ground and was freely in my hand. That was not good. Pushing hard against the current I tried once again for a better grip; I found it in the awkwardest of positions, one foot wedged between roots, butt in the air, and my face half planted in the rushing current! It was then that I thought of death. I pictured my girls, my husband, my friends, my family and I found myself wishing I’d been wiser. Luckily, in a flippant moment, my friend, Becky, had joked with our other friend, Susan, that she should have a life preserver waiting for us, and praise God, she did! With the help of two of my friends (one of which I had managed to help rescue even as I had struggled to survive!), they all three tugged and pulled me back into safety! I have to admit – that little stunt literally scared the pee out of me! That was the second time in as many days.

Eventually we found our poor, stranded, sunburnt, dehydrated friends, and we were all united once again, and Lisa and Becky have bonded for life… Must be something about staring down mean dogs, climbing through barbed wire fences, sucking the river water out of their swimsuits, and removing a ginormous bamboo shoot out of ones leg to have that affect on a friendship! And we all walked away from that retreat a little wiser, a little stronger, and a lot more appreciative of life vests … If we’d have ever thought to use them! But, we are assured of this: we would never have done that on our own, whether He provided peace or a friend to lean on in uncertainty, He had it covered. He was our ultimate Life Preserver – and He was there all the time! But, I think we’d all agree, at the very least, next year, we’re wearing life vests!

Immediately the words of that song pop into my head, “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus but to trust and OBEY!”

That’s how I’ve always pictured it too … Little trust, big obey! Like a school marm with her glasses half way down her nose, looking at me with disdain and disappointment: “Obey!”

Obedience. That’s such a scary word. Especially when referring to obedience to God. That doesn’t sound right either, does it? It’s scary to obey God? But it is when you can’t see and you don’t know and, as much as you want to, you don’t trust. After all, what might He require of me? Immediately my thoughts jump to duties and missions abroad, being pushed out of my comfort zone and facing the unknown. I don’t like to go there. I don’t want to be asked to do anything that I’m not prepared for, and I realize it’s less and less about what I believe of Him and more accurately what I believe of me. He’s able; I’m a coward…Most of the time.

Discipline doesn’t make me feel much better. The idea that someone is not pleased with me, that I’ve done something punishable, and that I’ve failed is depressing. And yet, it happens more often than I care to admit. Only with God it’s different. Even in His discipline He loves and accepts me. More often than not, even if I’m forced to eat crow, He sprinkles it with sugar so it tends to go down easier. His Word says, “[He] disciplines those He loves.” It’s why He asks anything of us to begin with…that same great love that desires to strengthen and grow us and teach us the importance of obedience.

But I’m finding that sometimes our discipline becomes an act of obedience or disobedience. It’s as if God says, “Okay, I’m going to let you discover this the hard way or the easy way. You can let this go or I can wrestle it from your hand. You can walk away now and your pain, though very real, will be less, or you can hold on and take chances until I have no choice but to break your heart completely.” Oh boy. Have I mentioned I’m often too hard headed for my own good?

But I’m learning. I’ve taken a licking and I’m still ticking! And, I’m finding that after a God sized spanking, He likes to hug and kiss and reassure us, “this hurt Me more than it hurts you!” I love the words of Christ that say, “In this world you will have trouble [whether of the enemy that desires to destroy you or whether it’s of your own rebellious will], but take heart [be courageous!] for I have overcome the world.” [additions mine] He’s exactly right. (Which doesn’t at all surprise since He is God!) And, though the thoughts of obedience and discipline scare me, I know that His plans for me are good, and He won’t lead me anywhere where He hasn’t first cut a path for me or won’t provide a pillar of fire or cloud to follow. Matter of fact, I don’t need those things. He’s placed within me a guide, a voice, His very Holy Spirit that says, “This is the way; walk in it.” I’ll admit, it’s not always easy and frequently it’s terribly frightening, but in the end, when God lovingly shows the connected dots, we will find it was worth it and, as painful as it felt, can never compare to the cross. “…He was obedient even to death on the cross.” Obedient to death. Am I really gonna freak out about a little spanking? Well, not today…That’s at least a start.

I’m alive.

Wait a minute. That doesn’t sound grateful enough.

I’m alive!

You can’t possibly understand the magnitude of that statement, unless you are one of the six other women who almost died with me! We are all
alive and well and more trusting than when our trip began, but let me start at the beginning.

I was eager to start the day! After all, we were on Mt. Moriah (Arkansas, of course), and the irony was not lost on me! I’d started the summer with the story of Abraham in my heart – a journey up a winding path that would lead to sacrifice; what I didn’t know is what that would look like… And neither did he. But, we trusted. By faith we began the climb. And by faith we came back down that mountain pleasantly surprised… Both marveling at His provision of the Lamb. This weekend would be my celebration, the full-circle experience of healing. The thing about God is this – at the end of every lesson He likes to present a visual…or at least in my experiences. So, I probably should have expected it, and I should have warned my dear sisters!

After lunch we set out on our excursion – a leisure ride down the river, enjoying the swift current and laughing all the way. Six women holding hands and looking forward to a beautiful day and a chance to work on our tans. Well, that was what we thought.

Looking at the ominous sky ahead should have been our first clue to abandon our plan, but we were hopeful, excited, and (I hate to admit it) stupid. We embarked. At first our laughter was fun, but as the clouds before us darkened and the waters tossed and turned us, it became more of a nervous laugh, a laugh that said, “This really isn’t funny, but I’ll pretend to be courageous.” As the current moved us deeper into the storm, lightening struck right in front of us, and we passed our last chance to turn back, we realized exactly how ridiculous our decision had been! Did I mention that it was an hour drift until we would have another chance? Yeah. But, that’s when trust soars highest – at the point of no return.

As we careened down the churning waters, I had visions of the worst kind: Straddling a tree while the corpses of my dearest friends floated off down a makeshift River Stix, one of us being gored through the heart by a sharp branch protruding from the waters, or all of us drowning and being dashed against the rocks without anyone seeing. These were my fears. And amidst all this I heard His voice, “Do you trust me?” And though our circumstances threatened to over come us, I believed He was watching over His precious, even if severely foolish, daughters.

As our fear intensified so did the rain. If watching a storm and seeing your demise was bad, blinding rain with the sound of approaching rapids was terrifying! Add to that the fact that it hurt – you might not think it, but needles of rain pelting exposed bodies sprawled across an inner-tube is painful! And there is no cover! (unless you count the time we were trapped underneath a tree, but trust me, that was no consolation!)

There were moments of peace, but they were short-lived. Looking back I can see that they were God-given moments to catch our breath and slow our heart rates for the next catastrophe! We prayed for solace. We hoped for salvation, and we trusted in a God that promised never to forsake us. And we all had lessons to learn…intimate, unique lessons from the Almighty, our Great Teacher.

I would love to say that I was strong and courageous and never cried. No. I cried like a baby. Not at the prospect of death, not at the raging rapids, but at the point where I had to let go. You see, we were all holding onto one another…but when the trees captured us and the river curled and twisted, a friend of mine was about to capsize. I was desperate not to let go, and my fear held her tight. Her eyes widened and she begged, “Leslie, you have to let me go!” Tears welled up in my eyes and I screamed over the roaring waters, “I don’t want to let go!” I never want to let go. I never want to lose anyone. I never want to abandon those I love, but like in my life experience, God said again, “Letting go will save her.” I hesitated for a moment, but I knew the truth and against my flesh and will, I released her. She lived to suffer another day of barbed wire fences and bamboo injections. Your welcome, Becky.

I wrangled myself out of the tree and my spiritual mom, my mentor and my friend grabbed my rope! How very appropriate. She is remarkable and optimistic under the worst of circumstances! I vividly remember as the skies got darker, this dear lady chose to ride backward – not looking at the gloom and doom in the clouds but the blue skies that were behind us…until there was no more blue to focus on and so resolved to survive, she got down to business, all pretense abandoned. She and I faithfully battled our adversarial conditions including, but not limited to, a puncture wound to my inner-tube, resulting in a wilted piece of rubber and plastic that was thrown away. Eventually we found our way back to shore, to the house we were retreating, to our other friend that had been praying non-stop for our safety and met us crying…an hour and twenty minutes later.

Though treacherous and terrifying we never lost our hope, and even more miraculously, we never lost our tempers. I mean, when your in survival mode its not the time to start pointing fingers! And who would we have blamed? We all rode into the storm willingly, together. We can look back on it and laugh. (Especially when Lisa played “Shall we gather at the river” for us all before bed!) We all agree it was an hour of our lives that we will never forget, and if we thought we were close before, we are forever united in this. More than that, we are forever assured of the love of our Father that granted us mercy in our ignorance and instilled a deep seated peace in each of our hearts. I still haven’t stopped thanking God, none of us will, even after our second river adventure… but that’s a story for another time; I’m still catching my breath and poor Becky is recovering from the bamboo shoot from hell. Regardless, Our God is faithful, and deserving or not we’re alive!

“So the Lord must wait for you to come to him so he can show you his love and compassion. For the Lord is a faithful God. Blessed are those who wait for his help…Though the Lord gave you adversity for food and suffering for drink, He will still be with you to teach you. You will see your teacher with your own eyes; your own ears will hear him.”

This verse was fixed in my heart, and I was more than ready to find my Savior waiting. He doesn’t want to wait; He wants to cuddle and cover and comfort and teach, but we make Him wait. Why? I’m not sure; maybe because we cant believe that He is poised, ready and eager. Well, He didn’t disappoint. He never does; you’d think I’d know that by now.

As my sifting intensified, my strength dwindled and my heart felt close to death. Really. I was ready to give up; I couldn’t take it much more. I questioned the whole process, looking for justification and all the while punishing myself. Somewhere along the way I forgot that Christ died for even this! I was aware. I hoped. But, I didn’t believe, and that’s why my healing couldn’t be complete. I was still trying to heal myself through my studies and my pursuit and my merit. It was impossible.

So, I stole away. Not physically but spiritually, I took a retreat. I shut off my phone, turned off the computer, and powered off the t.v. At first, the silence was deafening. My tears fell endlessly because let’s face it, I’d been here before. What would make this time any different? Christ. Christ made this time completely different. First, He led me to literature, “Anonymous” – a look at Christ in His hidden years and “Unmerited Favor” – the beauty and freedom of grace. I devoured them, looked up every scripture given and read them, through… in context, and I found myself understanding, letting go, and feeling loved.

I understood for the first time in my life the power of the blood, the significance of the sacrifice, and the price that was paid. That’s not easy to admit. I’ve led and spoken and taught for years without really getting it. And, this is what stood out to me the most – the act of transference. Now, that sounds really strange, but it is actually very beautiful. Basically it says that when I accepted Christ as my savior (by faith) I accepted His sacrifice. In doing that, two amazing things happened: I transferred my sin (past, present and future) onto Him and He transferred His righteousness onto me. It’s what makes me right with God; the ONLY thing that has the power to make me right! And because of that “rightness” I’m no longer under the law. My sins were taken, forgiven, and divinely forgotten for all time before their time because He loves me! And that’s when He could finally set about doing what He’d wanted to do all along, was waiting to do with arms wide, reaching…Administer His healing, after all, in the process of transference it was already mine. He just had to remind me.

I bucked it at first; looked for scriptures to disprove this divine revelation, because isn’t Joseph Prince (the author of the book “Unmerited Favor”) just some kind of health and wealth preacher; well, transference would play well for him! But, it popped up everywhere I looked…from people that I knew and completely respected. It was in my daily devotions with the amazing Ozzie Chambers. It was reiterated through the compassionate heart of Kay Arthur. It was spotlighted through the sassy Southern charm of Beth Moore. It was literally being spoken all around me in literature that cluttered my bed. More than that it is repeated over and over at some point in the letters of Peter, Paul and John every time they mention the “new covenant”; after all, that was the whole purpose of Christ being sacrificed at all! The final sacrifice. No more needed. No more necessary. His death conquered the power of sin once and for ALL! (That, dear reader, includes you!) My disproval ended in His love – His amazing grace, that beautiful unmerited favor.

I was wide-eyed! Could it be?! I was free?! It was too easy, wasn’t it? And, I was no where near deserving… True. Completely, totally, beautifully true! But where did that leave me? Well, where else could it leave me – with a choice. I could choose to accept that act, that grace and walk in newness of life or I could pretend like I’d never seen it, never heard it and never heal. I chose to heal. I chose to take the transference and to live my life expressing my gratefulness!

James 4:7 says, “Submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and He’ll draw near to you.” It all begins with submission to God – to His plan, His will, His embrace. And then you can resist, and you will scramble to draw near. Which beings me back to my blog name and the first brother sifted. Peter learned the same lesson.

As He watched Christ suffer, bleed and die on that cross, undoubtedly it dawned on Him. But when Jesus came to him again, drew him in, and questioned him, “Peter, do you love me?” I imagine his response was emotionally heartfelt and resolute, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you!” And with Jesus prayer still fresh on His eternal lips, He requested the ultimate desire of His heart, “Feed my sheep.” in other words, “Yes! You get it! You understand my purpose, my plan, my will! Now share it!” No wonder such a fire filled that man! He and the other disciples took that lesson and revolutionized religion and unswervingly preached relationship! Peter had been sifted and came through to encourage, lead, and strengthen! How can I do any less?!

Be encouraged! That same act of transference applies to you – as Christ is, so you are! Not because of anything you did but all because of what He did! And in that astounding Truth, I’m healed! I guess I need to change my blog name now … Maybe “suds from a soap box” because the church is missing the picture while the Body is falling apart. I know; I was apart of the decay. But, there is good news! Hope! Life! – In Jesus Christ! And we have the power within us to endure… through His gift of the Holy Spirit! But that’s a subject for another blog 🙂 He loves us so – and that Love will not only feed His sheep, it’ll feed a hungry world! I’m sure of it, and He was dead sure of it!

I had a shouting match with God. 

I’m not one of those that shies away from an argument, and me and God, well, we’ve wrestled from time-to-time. I’ve pushed and He’s pulled, and I left the match convicted and humbled. But, the other day, it was a shouting match. Double fisted.

I waded slowly into it with tears and an admittance of confusion. I was confused! He knew that. What I failed to admit (until He forced it out of me) is that I was also very angry…at me, at them, at Him. He wasn’t fooled. Bigger than that, He wasn’t shocked. It surprised me initially, but then I let Him have it! The “why’s” the “how’s” became “how could you?” and “why did you let this happen?” My sadness and confusion became aggravation and accusation. I was not pleased. It was not fair. He knew it…before I even admitted it.

Realizing He is God and I am just lil’ ol’ me, you’d think I’d back down. Not quite. I was livid, seething, selfish and I wasn’t quite through. I came at Him again with my words: all the fears and pain and questions that had silently built up in my heart. I let Him have it, throwing my fist in the air like some kind of gesture of power in insurrection. He would not budge… in fact, I got the feeling He was taking it all in…absorbing my frailty and pain.

Before I knew it, I was weeping and shouting and finally feeling what I had pushed down for so long, what I had refused to see. And, His voice became loud…not irrationally so, not audible, but increasingly evident to me. He took what I said, every accusation, every question and proceeded to direct some of His own. “Why didn’t you trust?” and “How couldn’t you see?” and “Where exactly did I forsake you?!” He completely blew up my defense. He showed me in no more than 5 minutes what, where, and why. Exactly. He expressed His own frustration and His righteousness and He coated it with love and grace and mercy.

As He spoke, He painted a picture. It wasn’t clear at first, just a fist. Not a strong fist in defiance but a gripped fist that shook in it’s intensity. Then, as He continued I glimpsed another fist, stretched and clutched, over and over. I thought I knew what He was saying: “I get it. You had me in Your grip, You were holding me tight and beckoning me.” That made sense. Then, he showed me that those fists were connected and spread wide. “Welcoming” – I got it. But I didn’t really, because then, it was like one of those posters where you see bits and pieces, but if you look just right it develops into another image all together, a three dimensional picture that suddenly pops out at you and you finally see it; it becomes more than a design and a swirl of color; it has meaning! About the point my eyes were strained, I saw the it clearly. Funny, it was right there all the time. 

A Cross.

The thing about those posters I mentioned, when you finally get the image, you can’t see anything else. And, that’s how our shouting match ended. All my anger and yelling and questions and accusations couldn’t change what He did…any more than my actions, my sins, my mistakes could. He was God, big enough to take my emotions, strong enough to carry my burdens, patient and loving enough to paint me a picture, a picture of grace: A cross, with arms stretched out wide, lifting up a double-fisted Savior.

Today’s thoughts rest on Samson, who could very well have been a heavy weight champion!  Interesting story, huh? This guy is born into a vow, consecrated to God and somehow turns out to be the cockiest most dangerous guy on the planet. For instance, after he discovers he’s been cheated out of a riddle, he kills 30 men in order to fulfill his obligations. Then when he finds out he’s lost his wife to the best man at the wedding (because, I mean, let’s face it he had “spousal abuse” written all over him!), he didn’t just beat down the guy that ticks him off; he catches a bunch of foxes (300 to be exact), ties their tails together, and proceeds to burn completely the fields of the town! And that’s not all, because of his “fox stunt” the town gets mad and burns to death his ex-wife and her dad (which I can’t say I didn’t see coming since we are talking about the old testament) so Samson, not one to back down from revenge, gets even and slaughters 1000 men with a jaw bone! Can you say anger issues?! 

And yet, despite all this and more (including a romp with a prostitute) God still shows favor and uses him. I can’t help but think there might have been less blood shed if he’d been a little less egotistical and a lot more spiritually obedient, but we don’t get that story; we get this one – about a cocky, rash, and vengeful man with dreadlocks (7 braids precisely). What does that mean? Well, I think there could be many lessons found, but the one that stands out to me, that pretty much meets me where I am is this: God doesn’t call the perfect. What a relief that is! I was having a hard time looking at my many mistakes and still believing I was called. Luckily for us, Samson isn’t the only flawed vessel…Abraham, David, Paul, Peter, and Jonah just to name a few! But honestly, Samson makes them look tame!  I’m thinking David, with all his courage and might, might have stepped back a bit when met in the dark by Samson! No doubt he was intimidating.

Sadly, or rather, finally we come to the end of Samson’s, (shall we say interesting?) life. He’s been imprisoned for years, blind and destitute, weak and humbled. He is called out at a party to be mocked, spit on, and ridiculed. His anger rises up one last time. What does he do? Shout out a Tarzan yell, grab the closest pig carcass, and go to town on the people? No. He requests, he prays and he seems somehow less cocky, less self assured, less rash. He simply asks to rest his frame on the pillars of the building. Then, he prays for God to endow him with strength once more to take out the people that had taken down his people, that had gouged out his eyes, and had mocked his God.  And he IS vindicated.

Sometimes it takes a great tragedy to humble us and equip us for the work God has for us. Upon his conception, Samson was destined to take down the philistines. It was destined, and his whole life he gave them hell; But, it wasn’t until he was imprisoned and humbled that he finally fulfilled his purpose. Might it have played out differently if he’d not been as hard, as cocky, and as angry as he was? Perhaps. But God created him for a purpose, seeing all time and space, knowing exactly how and what he’d be, and though it baffles us, He chose Samson anyway… Maybe because. That’s something to think about isn’t it? 

So where are you? Struggling through the unthinkable, feeling that God is so disappointed in you, you couldn’t possibly be used? Wrestling with the enemy of doubt, thinking maybe you’ve been mistaken that His call must have been misplaced? Oh, sweet child of His, tell those voices to shut up! He used Samson (against all logic and without restraint) and He certainly has a plan for you… And me… Regardless, in spite of, or because of what we’ve done! It’s that simple. And that’s the story of Samson. 😉

Dreams.

I hate dreams.

Just at the point where I feel myself healing, I’ll have a dream, and it will throw me off again. And, I don’t know what to do with that. 

Dreams are often defined as the thoughts in our subconscious that we play out in our sleep. Hmmm. So how do we take those thoughts captive?  If I ever had a conscious thought of the scenarios that play out in my dreams, I would take them captive in Jesus name and get over it! But, I’m sleeping, completely unaware and I’m attacked. I don’t know what to do with that.

Let me elaborate, I’m not talking bad dreams, sinful dreams…(Though I wouldn’t know what to do with those either) but dreams that simply take me back to the very thing that I’m trying to heal from. In my day to day life, the life where I’m submitting, relinquishing and moving forward, I’m staying away from those thoughts. If they dare to creep up, I distract myself, subvert them, take them captive, but in my dreams they take me captive. Sigh.

And I wake up.

And I’m overwhelmed, distracted, and feel guilty all over again. Bleh. It’s not fair, and I can’t make sense of it, and the more I have these dreams the less I feel removed from my sin. What do I do with that?

Well, today, I’m taking a page from David. I’m talking to my soul and saying, “What’s wrong with you?! Put your hope in God!” I’m reminding myself that I can’t beat myself up for what I can’t control! I can’t condemn myself for what I can’t choose! I can’t let my thoughts completely screw up my day! I’m on vacation for Heavens sake! “Blog about it and move on!” So that’s what I did… (fingers crossed).

So, it comes to my attention that my blog name suggests a defeatist mentality… oh contrair mon frair! It is only the belief that I’m not defeated that leads me to this! You see, even though satan has asked to sift, it only happens because my God has allowed it. 

So, I hate to break it to you little man with the pointy tail, you are not my sifter! My Sifter sifts for the purpose of strengthening me, building me up, equipping me for the purpose He’s called me to. Ultimately, the glory will be His and you will be left baffled as to how you lost the battle again! And I hope when that day comes, you will shudder under the shadow of the cross- because, though I may find you intimidating, my Jesus is power, might, and strength. At the end of this time, you will see that, in the very fact that He has chosen me, I too am a victor!

This brokenness, this season, this trial is a momentary event that will pass away. In the process, I will not be silent in the hopes that I can be an encouragement, a shining light, a voice for others that trod this earth in flesh. We’re NOT alone; we’re in this together. So let the lessons begin …

I suppose I could sit down and write a list of wrongs that have gotten me to this point, but the truth is, it would take too long and there’s not enough time.  The fact is, I am here.  Not where I wanted to be, without the outcome I was hoping for, but what can a kernel of wheat really ask of the Sifter?

I know I’m not the only one…and I guess that’s what makes it easier.  I know that there are other kernels of wheat out there, just like me, who aren’t quite sure how they got so far off track or what exactly the future holds, but you’re willing…willing to ride the wind as we are pounded against the Rock that slowly breaks us apart. And, maybe this will be their confidence as well, the words of Christ that said, “Satan has asked to sift you as wheat, but I have prayed for you, so that when you come through, you will come back and strengthen your brothers and sisters.”

So, don’t resist the chaffing and the grinding and the sifting…He has a plan.  And, it’s a good one. That’s what I’m counting on.