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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.