IT’S NOT EVEN POSSIBLE…

IT’S NOT EVEN POSSIBLE…

It’s not even a matter of “it’s too much for me…” It’s a matter of  “it’s not even possible for me.”

It’s like expecting a newborn baby to unload the dishwasher or asking your dog to drive to the grocery store and order a birthday cake for Aunt Sally.  It’s just not possible.  That is the task I’ve been assigned to… Well not exactly.  I’ve only been assigned to participate in the task.  Hence, the “it’s not even possible.” 

     See, at the end of the day – the possible part all belongs to God. I can teach – or attempt to teach- a GED class to adults in hopes of coming along side them to give them a hand. I can commit my Wednesday mornings to loving them and getting to know them… the real them.  I can pray for them and hope they’ll stay for Bible study after class. I can laugh and sing with them. I can arrange for people to bring a dessert and plan a lesson from the little red Book; the Book that holds the Truth that sets us free.  I can worry when I hear of another shooting in their complex, hoping that one of my students won’t be laying in a grave instead of sitting in my class the next week. I can help a burdened mother craft an email to someone she hopes will help her son. I can wear a smile and give a hug and genuinely care.  I can do that.

     But I can’t change their heart or satisfy their deepest longings.  I can’t heal them from the inside.  I can’t break their strongholds or give them abundant life. I can’t give them the peace that passeth all understanding. I can’t supply all their needs.  I can’t… be their Savior. 

I can’t do that, but then again, I’m not supposed to. That’s God’s deal.  So I have to focus on the things I can do and pray like the dickens for God to do what only He can do.

     He can move mountains, yes.  Don’t we all love it when He moves them instantly!  Sometime, however, He chooses to do it one stone at a time…like now. I pray for strength and tenacity.  I pray for a glimpse of heaven’s vision for this place. I pray for supply to meet the demand.  I pray for soft fertile soil and bountiful seed to scatter.  I pray for the miracle of Eureka GardensJ  

     Will join me in praying for the thousands in Jacksonville who cannot read their Bibles well enough to comprehend the truths written to them. Will you pray for every stronghold to be broken? Will you pray for Godly men and women, boys and girls to be raised up in this place and the myriad of others just like it?  Will you pray for the miracle of Eureka?

What to do with a sidelined Heart...

Life would dandy… if it weren’t for the fact that my Heart is sitting on the sideline.  There It is:  Bright red with stick arms and Its little pink tennis shoes sitting on a rock; arms wrapping Its scrawny knees towards Its chest and resting Its chin (do Hearts have chins?) on Its palm.

I carry on, telling myself when to smile as we plug

along in the duties that need to be accomplished to 

keep my bantam world in motion.  Heart duly steps in 

when required, but the sparkle is not there.  Instead Its 

eyes have a glazed look, staring off in the distance at 

something and yet nothing, all at the same time.  

Where is It gazing? I don’t know.  Why?  Don’t really 

know that either. I do appreciate that Heart hasn’t abandon me completely.  At least It’s 

still here participating when called upon.  Neither one of us can figure out what to do 

about it.

I remember the days when Heart had a spring in Its step, bounding about like a race horse waiting for the gate to open.  I wonder if those days really existed or perhaps I’ve fallen into the memory trap.  You know, where your memory exaggerates how great everything was… way back when.  In the memory trap history is rewritten into grander events and emotions than actually ever occurred.  Perhaps some of my memory is off, but I do recall more light-hearted days.

Heart doesn’t seem rebellious.  It’s not sneaking off to do hidden forbidden acts.  I’m wondering if Heart is just weary… and yet we’ve both faced much more difficult experiences.  But let’s just suppose it is weariness.  Is that even right?  Doesn’t God say come unto me all you who are “weary” and I will give you rest?  I’m pretty sure Heart has done that… That could be one area to explore a little deeper.

Then I wonder. Perhaps Heart really does belong on a different path.  Then again, I’m not sure that really matters because it appears clear that God has prepared this way for Heart and me to go. 

At least Heart is not being beat up!  Nothing is trying to attack Heart or stick daggers in it to make it bleed… Unless… I suppose the Enemy could have something to do with Heart’s heavy shoulders.  Maybe the Enemy wants Heart to give up.  Maybe he knows that just around the bend Heart will experience great joy. The spring in the step will return. Perhaps God placed Heart and me on this path to be a part of building and strengthening His Kingdom.  The Enemy would relish nothing more than for Heart to sit on that rock and refuse to move next time I ask.

Actually, I don’t know the answers, but Heart and I can’t give up.  We won’t give up.  We will keep plugging forward as long as we have breath and a beat.  Heart and I are in the midst of well doing… The Bible says not to be weary in well doing for in due season we will reap if we faint not… OK then…I don’t know when and I don’t know how but until then, “Come on Heart, Let’s go!” 

Confessions... Got some?

Confession…

I begged.  Cried. Prayed. Wept. Fasted. Choked down the tears in public all brave like. Even gave up caffeine… He didn’t budge an inch. And all I ever wanted to be growing up was a wife and a mother.  Was that so hard for Him?  He made a virgin girl a mother. Life grew inside of withered dead wombs when Elizabeth and Sarah gave birth, past the flower of their youth, as people say. And how about the tons of women who don’t even want kids who find tiny little fingers curled around their own. Lots of people have prayed for children and got them.  So what’s the big deal about granting me that request? Wasn’t He the One responsible for giving me this desire in the first place? If He could just let me have a miscarriage, so at least I’d have children waiting for me in Heaven.

But He never did…

Confession.  It’s not the first time I’ve ever begged. It’s happened before. I fell right down on my knees, clutched that pink and white checkered bedspread, desperate.  Not desperate in Him.  I knew He could do it. He could part the sea, spare people from burning fiery furnaces, raise the dead…ridding me of type-one diabetes?  That’s a drop in the bucket. There is no known cure, only maintenance, true. But I didn’t want to maintain this for the rest of my life!  Too many struggles. Too many complications. Too many days of feeling just plain crummy. I’d never heard of anyone being healed of this pancreatic disease. But God has done lots of firsts.  Imagine the glory that would come to His name!    

But He never did…

Confession. There is more begging…Years of fasting over the issue made no difference.  Marrying him coincided with God’s plan for my life, or at least that’s the impression He gave me.  “Oh!” I figured it out. God wanted me to be an object lesson on forgiveness and perseverance in prayer and faith. A testimony of unconditional love! God wanted to restore our home.  Show the world He can take broken destroyed lives and put them back together. “Ok, I can do that”, I thought.  So I kept begging. Kept praying.  Kept holding out for a better tomorrow. Kept waiting for God to shake him up real good and bring him back home to me. 

But He never did…

Confession.  The day of the accident.  Lot’s of begging that day.  Or did I even beg because surely God wouldn’t even think of taking my dad at this time in my life?  He knew I needed him now more than ever. I begged Him, “Please don’t do this…not now.” Yes, the doctors said it didn’t look good, but that’s no problem for God.  So I appealed, “Do your thing God. Bring him back to life!”  I knew He could do it! 

But He never did…

Confession. More begging… but this time I can’t share it.  It’s still too tender to the touch.  But I’m guessing you know the outcome.

Yep. He never did… yet again.

I never got those things I begged for… I got something else instead.

I watched those words about sufficient grace morph from one-dimensional words on a page into lifelong, daily friend.

The loss that cries me to sleep at night has become my magic carpet transporting me to more eternal perspectives. I remember, this world is not my home and something greater than tomorrow awaits me. One day He’ll wipe every tear and make all things new! Heaven has become more than just a figment of the imagination.  It’s where I long to live and where I want my treasures stored.   

I found a God who is also a Husband and a Provider and a Lover of my soul.

I resolved, just recently I might add, that some heartaches will never be explained on this mortal coil…and that’s ok because God always knows and will not withhold any good thing from those who walk uprightly.

I met a Friend that never leaves even when the lights go out and the house is still and empty.

I got an elevator ride down into the pit of my soul and found some pretty yucky stuff down there. My gracious Father waited for the go ahead from me to scrape it out and clean it up.

With each new begging episode the clearer things become. Weights I didn’t even know I had, exposed and dealt with; or at least on the radar now! And like a camera, the world, others and myself zoom into more crystal clear focus.  Fret and worry don’t have as much influence over me.  That horrid lists of “to do’s” and “to don’ts” don’t guilt me to death…as often.  Who knew one could live so free and light! And working for Him?  Been replaced! Now I’m walking and working with Him.

Nope. I never got those things I begged for… I got Him instead. J