I saw a fly hovering next to me; She didn’t know I watched her watching thee. She rubbed her hands together and came close, But I swat her away before she touched your throat.
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There are many of Jesus’ characteristics on trial this generation. Many dismiss Him as merely a teacher or cult leader. Even in the church, plenty is discussed and scrutinized about homosexuality, women-teachers, money, end-times, justice, and on and on the list goes. But one characteristic I recognize has been thrown so deep under the rug, we don’t even know we are dismissing it: He is the Great Physician.
Sure, many of our favorite songs keep praising Him as Healer. But I don’t see many preachers sharing the depths of what this means and explaining the authority the Believer has to heal the sick, raise the dead, and command diseases to flee. It can be brushed over, and abhorrently muddied with “God loves doctors”, and “God heals through medicine”, and “let’s heal your soul instead”, and “let’s be patient with what you are asking from God.” I’m not directly saying these statements are evil. But I am questioning whether they are sprung from a place of fear and disbelief shrouded behind the face of “wisdom” and “realistic faith”.
What is Healing? And does Christ heal? These were statements so foreign and silly in notion as a young man, because my church spoke and taught so fervently about them. I remember months of Wednesday night studies of Watchman Nee’s Spiritual Authority. Annual week-long revivals with Andrew Wommack leading the charge and teaching us. Pastor Dave Ellis wouldn’t let a soul speak something that was anything but “life”.
But I must admit, in recent years, my lips had grown stale and my heart quaked when I thought of the power of the Almighty here to heal. I felt a pressure to not share because we in the westernized church demand ourselves to be “less exclusive” and available for anyone. Don’t be “weird” or you might scare someone away. Which is a ridiculous notion when you think of how Christ usually started his interactions with Healing and the teaching came secondary.
So, I recognize that this teaching needs to be shouted more. I find many churches afraid of the fruits of the spirit (more on that in a few weeks); they want to merely know everything, yet not practice anything.
Does God heal? And will He heal you right now?
Miracle Cures have been around since long before Miracle Max was raising the Dread Pirate Roberts from the dead. And they will continue in some form or fashion until the day we all go to heaven. Now they are called Essential Oils. And half of all the mothers in America are now mad at me for saying so.
But the Holy Spirit is not snake oil. And from the Holy Spirit is the power to heal an infirmity or restore a life in the name of Jesus. To many that have grown up with too much earthly wisdom instead of childlike faith, this sounds too good to be true. And such will dismiss it as they don’t understand the wonder-working power of Jesus; that it’s His plan and His word that promises us not only that will he heal us, but that He has already.
The following passage was written 700 years before Christ, prophesying what He will do on the Cross for our sin and sickness:
Surely He has borne (carried) our griefs (sickness)
And carried our sorrows (pain; physical and mental)
Yet we esteemed (thought, imagined) Him stricken,
Smitten (struck, wounded) by God, and afflicted.
But He was wounded (slain, pierced) for our transgressions (rebellion)
He was bruised (crushed) for our iniquities (guilt, punishment)
The chastisement (discipline, correction) for our peace (completeness, soundness, safety, health, prosperity, peace from war, peace in tranquility, friendship) was upon Him,
And by His stripes (wounds, blows) we are healed (to heal, make healthy, literally of personal distresses and natural defects or hurts).
Isaiah 53:4-5 NKJV (parentheses include a deeper understanding of the Hebrew word)
Does God want to heal you?
In one of the villages, Jesus met a man with an advanced case of leprosy. When the man saw Jesus, he bowed with his face to the ground, begging to be healed. “Lord,” he said, “if you are willing, you can heal me and make me clean.” Jesus reached out and touched him. “I am willing,” he said. “Be healed!” And instantly the leprosy disappeared.
Luke 5:12-13He personally carried our sins in his body on the cross so that we can be dead to sin and live for what is right. By his wounds you are healed.
1 Peter 2:24Christ is willing; Christ is able; Christ has done it. That’s why His scripture says, “you are healed”. There’s no “you will be”, “if”, “when”, or “maybe”. You are healed.
Like salvation, we know that receiving His salvation differs from Him giving it to you. He gave us salvation over 2,000 years ago. But it takes each of us receiving it to acquire it. In this manner, He gave us authority, health, and provision 2,000 years ago. But it takes us receiving it to acquire it.
You could say, “If He wanted me healed, He would heal me. So healing must be only at His will and random, and I have nothing to do with it.” That’s as foolish as saying, “why hasn’t He changed the heart of my sister and made her fall in love with Him, rescuing her from Hell?”
He has healed us. It’s our unbelief, fear and death-speech that kills us. He has given us the power of life and death in our very words. And most of the time we spend our time speaking death instead of life. We say, “Oh, never!” “Oh, always!” “Of course, I got sick.” “It is what it is!” And so on, like weak little insects getting stomped on and thrown about by the wind.
Jesus came and told his disciples, “I have been given all authority. (Who did He take it from? Satan, of course! God gave earth and its authority to us when He made us. We gave it to Satan when we sinned. Jesus took it back when He died without sin.) in heaven and on earth. Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Matthew 28:18-19 (After His death and resurrection; parenthesis added for teachings sake)You have all authority in heaven and on earth. The only power Satan has is to scare you into thinking he has authority.
I tell you the truth, you can say to this mountain, ‘May you be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ and it will happen. But you must really believe it will happen and have no doubt in your heart.
Mark 11:23
Oh, “Move Mountains” makes a great T-shirt! Your neighbor will sell you one with her essential oils. But do we believe the mountain will move when we speak to it? Or do we say it, turn away, and hope God does something so we don’t feel foolish? Doesn’t matter, because we won’t look back anyway.
Here is the thing about authority. You feel real authority when it walks in the room. I’ve been in the room with leaders who don’t actually have authority. And they look helpless. They may get angry or belligerent. And I’ve seen someone walk in and the room becomes silent. Authority doesn’t demand or shout, scream, and throw a fit. It simply takes.
That’s the authority you have as a Believer.
Because of the privilege and authority God has given me, I give each of you this warning: Don’t think you are better than you really are. Be honest in your evaluation of yourselves, measuring yourselves by the faith God has given us.
Romans 12:3The Father has given us faith through the authority given to Christ.
So then faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.
Romans 10:17Not from “having heard” the Word of God. But by “hearing” the Word of God. Just because I or some preacher told you once doesn’t mean you have faith to move mountains. You need to strengthen that faith. And that comes from hearing the Word of God. And hearing it, and hearing it, and hearing it…
Faith grows by feeding it the Word, and exercising it in everyday life.
“Most Christians feed their bodies three hot meals a day, and their spirit one cold snack a week. And they wonder why they’re so weak in faith.” F.F. Bosworth
Care not for what circumstance looks like. Care for what the Word of God says. Do not work out your faith based on experience, but believe God’s Word until such experiences fall in line with It. Do not trust in your experiences. That only makes the Word into a neutered, watered-down abomination of pathetic cowardice. It may help you sleep at night because it “all makes sense, now”. But it won’t get you any closer to Heaven. In fact, it’s the safe road—slow and gradual—that leads to Hell.
We walk by faith and not be sight.
2 Corinthians 5:7 NKJV
I was somewhere around age fifteen when I first fully grasped this understanding that God is Healer; that I need only speak with authority and believe, and I will be healed. I remember distinctly, one evening, I was alone in the house, laying on my back in the kitchen. My whole life, unbeknownst to my family, I had suffered from weak joints and ligaments. I ofttimes would stand from a laying position and dislocate my knee; dozens of times I snapped my shoulder out of socket while playing or climbing a tree. I was deeply afraid when it would happen, but refused to speak to anyone about it. During a week’s revival at our church, Andrew Wommack spoke about this healing power and I believed it. I was lying on the floor of my kitchen and spoke to my ligaments and joints. I commanded that they were healed and that no more would my joints dislocate. I stood from the floor and all my life henceforth, I have never dislocated a joint. Now, from time to time, I’ve gotten close, and each has brought with it a sudden tinge of fear. But I deny that fear and command it to leave as well, for God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.
I recognize that children and teenagers are actually quicker to grasp this than adults; adults you have twist the arm, change their way of thinking, or break down walls of “reason”, “experience”, and bad teaching.
Hence, there is power in the testimony, so I will continue: I was age sixteen. My sister was driving my friend and me to Daytona. We spent an afternoon there and, on the way back, it began pouring. My sister was not an apt driver yet and made some mistakes while taking us home. She panicked when another car “popped out” of the rain in front of us. And at 80 mph, on I-95, our Mazda 3 careened off the highway and flipped into the woods. We all climbed out, and most of us were unscathed, save the poison ivy we contracted and my face that was deeply scarred. Either from the airbag or windshield, the skin on my face had been pealed back and the entirety of it was dripping blood. I still remember looking down and seeing my protruding lip sticking three inches out and dripping yellow puss and purple blood. From the expressions of my weeping sister and shocked friend, I knew it was bad. I prayed on the spot and declared that in the Name of Jesus, not one scar would be left on my face within a week’s time. One week later, I pulled the last scab from my lip and have no scars from the incident; so much so that people do not believe the moment happened until I show them pictures.
One day, when AnnaBelle was very young, I was carrying her and slammed my third toe into a doorjamb. The bone instantly broke, turned sideways and swelled purple and black. I was in a fit, but didn’t have the time or money to concern myself with fixing it. I continued on in life. The next day, I was suffering from a migraine and lay in bed next to my wife. I begged her to pray for my healing. As she did, I felt my wounded toe vibrate and heard an audible click as it snapped back into place. (This is the beauty of miracles happening when we don’t even know what we are directly asking for, yet merely asserting our authority.)
Not many days after that, a young lady from our youth ministry called us in agony. She was suffering from a tumor in her stomach that the doctors could not find a way to help. She told us of the pain and asked if we would pray for her. I snatched the phone from my wife’s hand and declared passionately, “Whitney, you are about to see a miracle.” I spoke to the tumor, and she immediately felt a sensation like a balloon popping inside of her stomach. The doctors confirmed that the tumor had disappeared.
This will help some of you get over the idea that God only uses some to heal. My daughter was three or four years old when I asked her to lay hands on me and pray for a migraine to leave. She spoke in her soft voice, “Headache, go, Jesus Name”, and the migraine left instantly.
When Carlia was pregnant with AnnaBelle, we went for regular checkups, as one does. One such visit involved the doctor informing us that AnnaBelle had cysts on her brain and it was likely to lead to Down Syndrome. We prayed over the cysts and commanded they leave. The next visit showed no more cysts. Sydney had the same diagnosis, to which we laughed and replied, “don’t worry about that. We will pray and they will leave.” The doctor was shocked and a bit ashamed of us. But by the next visit, there was no sign of them.
When Carlia was 32-34 weeks pregnant, she suffered from intense pain in her stomach. When we rushed her to the hospital, the doctor told us that AnnaBelle was suffering from arrhythmia and was likely to die if we did not remove her right then and there. The doctor was so eager to cut my wife open, that I had to demand she back across the room while I held my wife’s hands and prayed over our daughter. We spoke to AnnaBelle’s heart and demanded the doctor check her heart again. Four hours of an unsteady heartbeat had preceded that prayer; but now, the heart was beating a perfect rate again. The doctor didn’t know what to say and disbelieved it. But AnnaBelle’s heart has never had any side effects or evidence of a weak heart.
When my son was seven weeks old, he contracted respiratory syncytial virus, which led to streptococcus pneumonia, sepsis, and meningitis. They deemed him the sickest child in all of Nemour’s Children’s Hospital in Orlando, Florida. The story of which I cannot express, because it would take letter upon letter to explain. But we saw miracle after miracle, both in his life and those around us. At one point, he died, and we prayed for him to come back to life, and he did. My son is alive because of the wonder-working healing power of Jesus Christ.
And yet, one week after Harvey entered Nemour’s, a family moved into the room next door with a boy of the same age. He, too, had contracted these viruses and in a heart-wrenching moment of hell and pain, that little boy died exactly one week after Harvey did, and yet never woke up again. My wife can still remember the screams of agony from that mother who mourned her baby boy.
Why does healing work sometimes, and other times it doesn’t? Does God only heal some, and not others? Why did we have to go to a hospital if God can heal anything, anywhere?
Well, why is it easy sometimes for the Believer to find abundance in finances, or favor, or their words, or promotion? And yet other times it’s not.
Because God isn’t a slot machine.
And life isn’t a game. It takes more than all that. But just because it doesn’t work sometimes—just because I’m up against an enemy that wants nothing but to kill me and you and everyone, every day; damage us, beat us, depress us, deflate us, separate us; just because I’m up against a kingdom of darkness—doesn’t mean I stop saying my God is more powerful, more ready, and more willing to heal and make us whole.
It takes us standing in our faith and believing, in the face of all doubt and worry. I tell my children all the time when they are afraid of something, “you are brave. And you can’t be brave unless you are scared. Bravery is doing the thing in the face of fear.” The same is true for your faith. It wouldn’t be faith if you could see and understand. But you have mountain-moving faith. Now use it in the face of disbelief and doubt.
It’s like we are fighting in a battle—a war, on the front-lines—and leading the charge is the God of the Universe, the Holy Spirit; and we get shot in the arm, hit in the leg, or struck in the heart; and we sit down in the middle of the war zone and yell at the General for shooting us.
What are you talking about?! He’s fighting with you! Not against you!
And by the way, this General has the power to heal. The power to close those wounds and erase them forever. This General moves your wounds to His body and says, “let’s keep going. You take the pain; I’ll take the suffering. You take the testimony; I’ll take the death.”The healing power of the Holy Spirit is with us; it stands beside us always. This isn’t snake oil; it’s the power of the Holy Ghost, able to raise the dead and heal the sick, and save our souls from Hell.
I can’t explain why something didn’t work. But I can stand on why it does. And that is the healing power of the blood of Jesus that is more than just a great lyric for a song. Use it. Demand healing. Exercise your faith. Hear the Word of God again and again instead of all the naysaying that you, your family, and closest friends might say. Speak the Word of God over your life. And nothing else. Until you see it come to pass.
And if you die with His Word on your lips, you die with good company and righteous reasons. For to live is not to live for living’s sake. But to live for death’s sake. Live like there is no tomorrow, with today’s faith on your lips. You have one life. Use it to its fullest and believe in the wildest things imaginable, for your Father in heaven has promised what He has planned far exceeds it.
You are healed. By His stripes. End of discussion.
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The clouds are rumbling; a storm is brewing; Sounds like cannon fire on the wind. I know this thing is just beginning, But He’ll take me further up and further in.
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Adventure waits for me to die again…
Recently, I spoke to a dear friend about suffering and pain given by God. And it inspired me to write. The notion discussed was whether God brings pain into our lives, or if everything bad is from the Devil. It’s funny how this idea can be so divisive and swing like a pendulum one way or the other every few years. Which I believe the Holy Spirit leads.
There is no doubt that pain can bring healing. Pain has its part in the birth of children, the building of muscle tissue, and cleaning out old wounds. It also has its part in death, abuse, and turmoil. It is difficult to make a snap-judgment like “everything good is from God and everything bad is from the Devil”. To me, it seems there are two types of pain. Suffering and Torture. But both yield to the same evidence that there is a Problem causing them. Not that pain is the issue.
Before I begin, I think it’s worth noting that the act of giving God credit for suffering “because it brought about goodness” yields to the temptation that we credit Him with all pain. With that line of thought, God killed Charlie’s mom to teach him a lesson in self-reliance. Your cough came so you can learn to slow down and rest. Barbara lost her daughter in childbirth because God needed her in heaven more than we needed her here. These statements are false. They are the act of forcing our doctrine to match our earthly experiences.
But I’m not discussing such tragedies at this moment. Those, we hopefully can attribute to an Enemy, Satan, causing death on the planet. But we will get back to that in a moment as well.
The truth is, God may give pain. In fact, he designed your body to feel pain, therefore, He knew it would come long before the Fall. It’s not like He said, “Whoops! Let Us add in this nervous system now that Adam has sinned.” Pain is evidence of a problem. Here, that Adam stubbed his toe on a rock. But Christ did not bring the problem. He brought the pain to tell you of it.
What is pain? What is suffering? These are very subjective words. What may be pain for someone may actually be pleasure for another. (And this can be further twisted and perverted by sin.)
Just as subjective and difficult to define is “happiness”. What is happiness? What is it to be happy? Is it a state of euphoria, pleasure, or joy? The happiness of any 11-year-old differs from that of a 40-year-old. Men find pleasure in different things than women. A person in poverty; another in bondage; a third in wealth—all find happiness in very different circumstances. What is the happiness of an American as opposed to an Indian or African?
If we read the Bible, we see Christ came to bring abundant life and the Enemy kills, steals, and destroys. We can all agree with that!
But the Holy Spirit killed Ananias and Sapphira on the spot for lying. Paul instructed us to “give him over to the Devil”. And, you know, all of Revelation…
And yes, I used New Testament references for those that claim “Christ fulfilled all that stuff from the Old Testament and they didn’t know what they were talking about”. I agree, many people didn’t know what they were talking about in the Old Testament because they hadn’t the Holy Spirit to reveal things to them yet. But it doesn’t remove God’s wrath and justice from the Word.
We mustn’t be afraid to trust God and ask Him troublesome questions. And in the search to answer “does God bring pain, suffering and death?”, we can lay down our personal beliefs and learn. And this whole concept, I would say I can not define perfectly. I can merely give you the revelation I’ve received, hoping that it helps. But a simple answer to every scenario is impossible.
I love used books. Books that are fifty-plus years old. I don’t mind the scratches, tears, and dings. All of that brings character to it. I feel as though I’m holding a piece of history. I have several books that are over two-hundred years old, and I cannot read them because the paper will crumble if I turn a page. But I don’t mind, because it warms my heart to see it and know I have it in my library. And I buy the same books over and over again because I love finding other copies of them. I have four copies of Perelandra (and Josh Ellis has one held hostage I demand back from him!) because I can’t get enough of holding those pages in my hands. My father likes to tell me about new books and new movies that I must read or watch, but I always let him down when I refuse to do so. Because I don’t find pleasure in a new book or new movie. Only in a good book or a good movie. And usually those are the ones I’ve already read or watched.
Videre licet, I despise Change. Let me rephrase that: I despise Change for the sake of Change.
I’ve had enough ups, downs, twists, turns, and surprises for the sake of nonsense in my life. My parents’ divorce, losing a scholarship, a sibling run away, a sibling losing faith, getting dumped, getting betrayed, car accident, car accident, car accident, car accident, car accident… first kid almost died, second kid almost died, third kid died and then raised back to life.
But God is in the change. He is in the new.
Christ refuses to let you and me stay the same person we were yesterday. And though tradition is good, I’m not meant to be a toddler anymore. We are not meant to have our mother wipe our rear ends, dad drive us to school, and whine until food comes before us.
Yet, humans typically want that if we are honest with ourselves. Having someone clean us, drive us around and provide us with food sounds very easy. The Israelites longed for slavery again because they wanted the easy life so badly. “If only the Lord had killed us back in Egypt,” they moaned. “There we sat around pots filled with meat and ate all the bread we wanted. But now you have brought us into this wilderness to starve us all to death.” (Exodus 16:3)
Change is hard. It can seem alluring and exciting at first, but it takes work to do it right. The idea of becoming more self-reliant, starting a farm, growing a garden, and getting out of debt has been nothing but an upward climb, physically, mentally and spiritually, for my family. But I see the end from the beginning. I see this being necessary in a climate that is tanking financially and demanding unified reliance on government instead of God. I’m out on that, and so should you. But it’s taking the fight to grow my own food, raise my own livestock, and squeeze every penny until there are only absolute essentials. (And lots and lots of used books.)
Change is painful. People crave predictability. We lust after everything to be hunky dory. But God has always tied the miraculous to the new, to obedience, and to embracing the difficult and walking through the desert.
Abraham had to get up and move everything he owned and go to a place he’d never been before. He had to sacrifice his son on the altar (he might not have literally, but he surely did ultimately in his heart before the knife met the skin.)
Joseph was sold into slavery and imprisoned to discover wisdom and power.
Isaac fought through betrayal and manipulation, and had to move his entire life multiple times.
David lived in caves, fought giants, wrestled lions, and won wars.
Daniel faced every day wondering whether he should continue praying or yield to his king and friend.
Jonah was swallowed by a fish!
Esther had to stand up and die or watch everyone she loved eliminated.
Rahab risked everything for two men climbing a rope.
The disciples left everything and followed!
Jesus turned the whole world upside down. He is the Stumbling Stone, the thing that makes no sense, but holds the whole world in His hands.Are you going to tell me that Jonah should have prayed against that fish that ate him and its stomach acid was his only food for three days? He should have cursed the fish that God sent for him?
When we read the Bible, we see that every time someone is trying to hold on to the past, for the sake of holding on to the past, sin and death follow.
Lot’s Wife looked back and was turned into a pillar of salt.
We want to talk about all the old things that God did. And please don’t misinterpret that I think people did it wrong in the past. God, help me! We need to crave holiness and righteousness like our grandparents and great-grandparents did! We need that in us.
But I’m talking about how we chase after God, not whether we should at all! Looking at the past is Good. Testimony is good. The act of standing up and sharing your testimony is powerful. But it’s not the power. It’s just the reminder of the power.
God said it like this, “Forget all that—it is nothing compared to what I am going to do. For I am about to do something new.” Isaiah 43:18-19
And when I come to this moment, I realize my thoughts betray me again. Because the act of changing for the sake of changing is just as sinful. So much of the church is demanding we “progress” and give up on trusting the Word anymore. I hear preachers sharing ideas that “it’s time we really stop disputing evolution, because we just look foolish. Admit it’s accuracy already.” These “progressive” insights that somehow-ordained ministers teach to interpret Genesis as nothing more than literary poetry. Theology professors are teaching that when God questioned Job with “who formed the world?”, it’s because He isn’t sure Himself and it could have been any number of other gods. Bathrooms are gender neutral, so we attract more people; homosexuals are ordained for the sake of inclusion.
What’s inclusive about the Word of God?
Absolutely, it is for the world that Christ died. He wants all of us. But don’t be fooled into thinking this Theosophic/Buddhist/Universalist invasion that has raped and pillaged our westernized world will be allowed across the pearly gates. Our pastors and flock are watching Marvel and Disney movies more than they are reading the Word, and now those under-the-surface demonic ideals are interlaced all over our beliefs. And we can’t tell our hand from our anus, and the tithe from the offering, or intercession from rebuke. Preachers talk about Demons as a “concept”, and use them to manipulate others into submission. God, help us!
Changing for the sake of changing is just as bad as holding onto the past for the sake of the past. We don’t do it for that reason. We hold on to the past because God is telling us to. Or we change because God is telling us to. The Past and the Change have no power. God, in it, does.
If all we ever do is try to hold on to the past, we will idolize it. We will lose the purpose of what we had and why it was great. If all we ever do is yield to the easy way, because we will look foolish if we don’t or have a difficult time in life, we are going to go to Hell. No “ifs”, “ands”, or “buts”. Follow Him. Or follow literally anything else to Hell.
Which leads me to the abhorrent fruit that God gives us with change and trusting Him.
“…the fruit of the Spirit is…long-suffering…” (Galatians 5:22)
Long-suffering. The etymology roots all the way back to a few words that mean “lengthy”-“death or passion”.
If you’ve heard me speak or write about passion, you know I’m quite fervent in my belief of its power. (If not, read it here in full). Christ went to the cross full of this “lengthy” “passion”. We save the world through our passion. This suffering is rooted in it. Passion itself is not positive nor negative. It is defined as pain or pleasure that comes from good or bad.
Therefore, we can extrapolate on this idea that pain itself is not negative. Merely neutral. No doubt, pain is uncomfortable. But “bad” or “evil” is the wrong way to understand it. Instead, we should attribute the cause of pain as the “bad” or “evil”. For instance, Christ had joy in going to the cross. Because His pain was demolishing the evil fate of mankind. If I were to pinch your skin, you may feel pain. But you would not pray for your nerves to stop feeling pain. You would simply slap my hand away and stop the cause of the pain. Pain is a signal sent to your brain through nerves that something is wrong. Furthermore, it may be beyond physical pain you endure. It may be emotional, psychological or spiritual.
If you attack the pain, you attack the incorrect thing. This is why medicines, narcotics, and self-help will never measure up to the solution. Numbing your senses with narcotics or a love-bomb doesn’t solve whatever spiritual or psychological attack you may be under. It simply takes the pain away temporarily. Until the problem finds a new way to hurt you.
I hear Christians pray for pain or discomfort to leave. And I cringe at the words. Pain is not the problem. The cancer is the problem. Curse the cancer. Curse the abuse. Curse the devil. Curse foolishness, addiction, etc. Don’t curse the one thing revealing it to you.
Christ is not in the business of taking your suffering away. If He was, He wouldn’t have set you and me up to face so much tribulation. He would have taken us from the planet the moment we said “yes” to Him in our hearts. He does, however, want us to grow. And through growth, we will endure much pain. The same pain that I would feel stretching and using my muscles. And the longer I waste my life in mediocrity, the more I let atrophy deflate my muscles. And hence, I have greater pain when I finally start using them again. If I were to pump myself full of drugs to numb the pain, I would only do my body a disservice. And many Christians are doing this very act!
So what can we really do about all this pain?
Confront it. Stop ignoring it. Do now what you need to do then. Or in other words, do what you know is righteous and true in Heaven—no matter how uncomfortable or difficult—as you know, you must do it eventually. If you know you will live a life in Heaven on your knees worshipping the Father, do that now. Do you believe your addiction will be in Heaven? Do you believe your bitterness will be tolerated across the threshold of the pearly gates? Are you serious that you think lewdness, side-glances and temptation will survive eternity? Do now what you will do then. Live a life of righteousness and stop giving yourself the excuse that you are permitted a few vices as long as you meet a notch above absolute mediocrity. Mediocrity! No wonder Christ said He’d rather you hot or cold. Mediocrity might as well be in the depths of Hell already, for you surely can’t feel or sense anything anymore.
If you have pain, ask why? Stop picking up your phone or pill to ignore it. Confront the conflict and face it head on. People are afraid of a little quiet, because that’s where their thoughts get loud.
I know you are suffering. And I know it is difficult. Christ knows. This season could be your hardest, if you’ll let it. Wouldn’t that be wonderful! For there is greatness on the far side of difficult. It’s the hard that makes it great.
Though, I suppose someone could refuse to let their hands get dirty, splintered, or calloused. You could always choose to have an easy, mundane, mediocre life. That is a choice of yours.
Or you could choose to run across a field full of stumbling stones. For Jesus, our Savior, who is both the Stumbling Stone and Rock of Offense, is also our Comforter, Shield, and Protector.
You may lose a lot if you trust God with everything. But Christ said follow Me. Not a formula, ideal, or movement. Those things require barely time or money. Christ requires all of your life, and the ability to suffer greatly for it. And you will certainly gain all He has in store for you, which is greater than you could hope, dream, or imagine. And it may not be this season, the next, or this lifetime that you even see the fruit of it. What right do you have for an answer, anyway? This is the God of the Universe you are demanding a comfy life from! Nonetheless, the fruit is promised, and if Christ promised it, then it will come.
Adventure waits for me to die again The time of death and the death of time Adventure stands without reason or rhyme I must commit to remain uncommitted My soul must long to never long again My dreams too great yet never great enough Adventure waits Adventure waits
My suffering was good for me, for it taught me to pay attention to your decrees. (Psalm 119:71)
For the joy set before Him He endured the cross. (Hebrews 12:2)
Now if we are afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation, which is effective for enduring the same sufferings which we also suffer. (2 Corinthians 1:6)
Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm. He said: “Who is this that obscures my plans with words without knowledge?Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me.
“Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand.” (Job 38:1-4)
PostScript:
I recognize that there is verily the argument of prayers and miracles that a new Christian may see or experience when praying for pain to go. To this I would reply three explanations. One: someone young in the faith should always expect to see more miracles and more revelation than someone long in the faith; as Christ expects a newborn to grow rapidly with little effort compared to an adult. Two: Christ will always meet us at our understanding. If revelation and instruction aren’t available to the believer, He does not need certain words or phrases to be said in order to perform a miracle. He is not a genie, after all, but a personal living and present Spirit. And Three: God will do whatever He wants to do. And that is the point of all of this. If we are locking Him into a box, He will stop talking until we let Him back out.
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“I believe there are few things greater to happen to a leader than to be removed from his office and given the opportunity to grow again.”
When we come to Christ as children, we learn that He only cares for two things: That we love and trust Him. And that we show others His love. Nothing else really matters to Him.
Nonetheless, there is a thing burning inside of us, deep behind the feelings of contentment, joy, peace and love. It’s up underneath our hunt for approval and gratitude. It bites at us with a notion that we are supposed to be the greatest at whatever we touch and go down in history as an amazing legend.
We shroud it behind a face of mission and passion, but if we were honest with ourselves, pride drives much of our ambition.
How do we get around God’s desire for us to live simple lives of loving Him and others when we have this almost sickening (surely perverted) desire to be famous and at the forefront of all that is brilliant? How do I balance what I believe is true—I am made to be confident and forthcoming!—yet, I know to be at the foundation of all my sin?
I’m not immune to pride. In fact, I’m detested by the amount of it in my bones. And I’ve learned the ugly lessons of subjecting myself to its will many times. I’m grateful for a father that pushed me down when he knew I was getting too high on my own accolades. Such a father that admitted his own mistakes and quickly apologized when he felt pride’s ugly disease-ridden face masquerade as his own.
When I became the worship leader at the youth church in Florida, I inhabited the position with qualities of passion and the belief that worship is for Christ and, second, our own souls to grow smaller in His presence. It is by worship we receive revelation, but just as much, we receive the character of Christ though humility and submission.
The former qualities of passion left their mark on many students following me. And for this, I regret nothing. (Though from time to time, I probably second-guessed some of the strong behavior I led with.)
For example. I remember a young man named Nick Clemetson joining the band. He was a drummer and pretty decent from the start. Sure, he had much to master in his craft, but he loved what we were doing and he was eager to help. That eagerness slowly waned over the months and years. As his expertise grew, so did his admiration for himself. In fact, I’ll never forget the Thursday evening when he showed up late to practice and walked in like a perturbed prima donna. I chided he needed to be there thirty minutes prior in a playful manner. But I was suddenly surprised when he turned his face at me with venom in his eyes and spouted, “you should be grateful for what you have!” This, I assumed, regarded the fact that we didn’t have many other drummers at the time.
I paused for a moment, took a breath, and immediately walked to the drum cage and opened the door. “Nick, you can go home. You are not playing for a month.”
He was flabbergasted and thought I was joking. I didn’t budge. The band waited in silence and awe as he left the stage and walked to his vehicle outside. Later, I told him he and I would do a Bible study together every week and specifically discuss the character of Jesus. And until I felt confident he was ready to join the band again, he would come to our practices and pray for us, but not play.
Nick is one of the greatest men I know today. He loves the Lord with all his heart. He is happily married, with a child on the way, and devotes himself to learning more and more how to be a man of God.
Some years before this incident, there was another young man in the band, Steve. He was a drummer as well. (There’s something about drummers, perhaps). And like Nick, he was the only one we had. We were desperate back then. I was commissioned to make an entirely youth band, kicking out all the old twenty-year-olds, and teaching the teens how to play. Steve was good from the start. Real good. And at some point, he knew it. He stopped attending our weekly practices. He showed up late. He listened to his iPod while I was talking to the band. He rarely joined the conversation.
Finally, enough was enough. I told him unless he attended our weekly practices and showed up on time, he wasn’t to play that Wednesday night. Well, the following Tuesday, he skipped out on practice (we had different days for practice back then). That Wednesday night, he showed up ready to play, and I looked him in the face and said, “No. You are going to worship from the other side of the stage.”
He was shocked. And so was the youth pastor. He asked me if I was serious about not having a drummer in our band. I was. And for two weeks we went without a drummer, and the music was dismal. But I didn’t care. Because perfect music isn’t what worship is about. It’s about our hearts. And if our hearts are messed up, it doesn’t matter how good our music is.
Do you know I’ve spoked to worship directors at mega churches that tell me their paid band members are fighting and cursing, throwing about “Mother Eff-bombs” backstage only seconds before leading their congregations in worship? And these directors throw their hands up like a parent at a loss, and smile crookedly, “Well, what are you going to do?” Kick them out of the mother-flipping band! That’s what!
I got a call from Steve’s grandmother the following day. She expressed in harsh words that Steve deserved to be on that stage because of his talent. I told her I believed Steve had a case of pride. And too often, when I approached him about these things, he would argue with me. I compared it to Adam, who complained and blamed all of his shortcomings on Eve, the serpent, and God Himself, instead of taking responsibility for his own actions. She cut me short and said, “Exactly! He should argue and put the blame on others! It’s his god-given right!” (I’m curious, to which god she thinks gave him that right.)
Steve never came back to the band again, and I don’t think he came back to our youth ministry either. I saw him several years later outside of a Publix, on his way to Army deployment. We had a pleasant conversation, and he thanked me for all I ever did for him. *There has never been a Steve in our worship band. I changed his name to make you happy.
This sort of punishment to pride continued on and on over the years. In fact, I don’t think anyone made it through our band unscathed. At some point, the ugly demon would pop up in their lives, and I was quick to squash it. I never threw a student out; though I probably wanted to. I merely told them to come to practice, pray for the team, and do a Bible-study with me in the meantime. And when I felt they were ready to come back, they would. A few left altogether. Most made it through. And God was glorified.
When I took over the youth internship as youth pastor, I brought the same sort of practice into that as well. I remember Aden Johnson getting removed from his leadership position (“Captain”) for a similar reason. He was only out for seven days. And that was a stretch. The kid had just too much moral character. He snapped out of that crap faster than a June Bug hitting an aluminum roof.
But one Captain… Oh! One Captain goes down in the history of the most ridiculous fodder I’ve ever had to deal with.
This girl—let’s call her Julianna—joined the internship in seventh grade. She was a gem from the start. Clearly understood the Word and had faithfulness all over her. She was confident, articulate, and had the apparent qualities of leadership. When she was in eighth grade, I broke my rule of having only high-schoolers as Captains, and appointed her. She did great at first, but slowly something strange started happening.
In those days, I was getting stretched to multiple roles and maybe didn’t have my eyes on it as much as I would have liked from the get-go. I had to trust in the opinion and observance of other leaders, both adult and student. Julianna was getting haughty. And vicious. She would snap at other students and put them down. Soon, no one but the youngest of young kids wanted anything to do with her.
I spent a few months intentionally teaching her and others around her about pride, submission, servanthood, and trying to root out the little worm that was growing inside of her. But it wasn’t working. So, I did what I normally do when people are cruel. I make fun of them.
Now, I know what you are thinking. “Keith, that doesn’t seem very Christ-like.” And you may be right. But I don’t care. When people are stupid, they should be taught a lesson. And if they are too thick to learn that lesson, they must be shown it.
I remember it all accumulated when I gave Julianna an award for “Most Likely to Judge Others.” Which I still applaud myself for coming up with. (Oh, there’s that Pride in me we were discussing.) Anyway, she took the punch with a chin up and actually started getting better. It snapped something inside of her and for a few months, she was more compassionate and loving. She listened and received instruction and was slower to speak. Other students started hanging out with her more and it seemed like we were turning the corner. We had a number of one-on-one conversations that I thought were going well.
And then the New Year passed, and her disposition tanked. For some reason, and I still do not know today, her behavior changed radically; she was belligerent and argumentative toward both adults and students. Enough was enough. I pulled her aside and told her I wanted her actively involved in a one-on-one Bible study with my female administrator, Hannah, and that she was on probation. If her behavior didn’t change in the coming months, she would no longer be a Captain. Which in and of itself, if we are honest, is not that big of a deal. It’s not like we are talking about losing salvation or grace. I say this because of the brewing storm I was about to walk into.
The next day, I received a request to meet with Julianna’s parents. They came in, and without saying a word, her mother pulled from her purse the award for “Most Likely to Judge Others”, smashed into pieces. She threw it into the garbage and said, “We reject your words.” I giggled at the sentiment’s obvious irony, and let her continue.
Then this woman pulled out her Bible and read it to me, trying to prove a point that I was unfit to not only be a pastor, but to lead youth. This went on for an hour, before I finally got the husband to speak and realized that he was a pretty sensible guy. He was probably the root of anything decent in Julianna. Because her mother was nuts; argumentative, pompous, belligerent, and downright vicious. But anyway, I realized it was going nowhere early on and tried to explain my love for Julianna, of which I had a significant amount. I spent three years teaching, leading, loving, and empowering her. And like all students, I refuse to let them stall out. We grow up, and not down. And when our character is out of gas, someone needs to kick-start us. And sometimes, that kick-start is a kick in the pants.
I learned over the years in leadership that most people love when you speak your mind and tell the truth…to others. But they don’t like it when you tell them the truth about themselves. Things get very uncomfortable, and the haughty spirit rejects instruction. It wants to know everything and be ready for everything. Therefore, leaders themselves are subject to the greatest falls. Because they have risen so high, ofttimes in their own imagination, and the fall hurts smacking the ground. But I believe there are few things greater to happen to a leader than to be removed from his office and given the opportunity to grow again.
In Genesis, God gave Joseph a dream. And this dream led to pride. And that pride held him imprisoned for decades. Don’t mix the dream God has for you with pride. It wasn’t until Joseph learned he was nothing without God that he finally realized the dream God gave him as a child. You will never get to the dream He has for you until you receive the character you require to obtain it.
Pride, jealousy, and greed sift through our lives; it’s almost as if we would not exist without them. Without the desire to be the greatest, to push others down, to compare oneself and any self with another and my own.
When we meet people, their names come secondary to the prejudice of clothing, hair, attitude, accolade, culture, and upbringing. That’s why we immediately ask someone, “What do you do?” Because we are hunting for the comparable information. When we introduce ourselves to others, we admit information that will push us up, avoid anything that will damn us in the eyes of those listening, and quickly explain away anything that might shine a negative light on who we are.
So how do you live to be the greatest—that desire festering deep in there—without becoming a selfish sinner?
“Do not love this world nor the things it offers you, for when you love the world, you do not have the love of the Father in you. For the world offers only a craving for physical pleasure, a craving for everything we see, and pride in our achievements and possessions. These are not from the Father, but are from this world. And this world is fading away, along with everything that people crave. But anyone who does what pleases God will live forever.”
1 John 2:15-17
The sin of pride comes from the fear that if I don’t puff myself up enough, no one will, and perhaps everyone else will find out I have just as much dirt on my face, maybe even more, than those around me. Someone will find out I don’t know everything, and I’ll get thrown away.
Pride, in itself, is a trick. One to make others feel less, that I may feel greater. It is intimately connected to shame. If you boast about yourself, I would ask, “What are you so ashamed of? And why are you insecure?”
Because pride will lead you face to face with your shame eventually, I’d much rather talk about shame instead. For those who are truly ashamed have just learned by now that their pride ran out and they can’t keep lying to themselves.
How does shame work? It tells you that you aren’t good enough and that God won’t love you. It makes you retreat and hide from Him. Adam and Eve hid themselves in shame of their wrongdoing, not because they suddenly thought God was evil and angry. No, because they thought they didn’t deserve His love that they knew He was ready to give. Shame, by this definition, is the understanding that we do not deserve God’s love. Pride is the masquerade that no one deserves our love.
When we have shame, we retreat. When we seclude from God, we get afraid. When we are afraid, we are susceptible to more sin. When we sin, we become ashamed.
Round and round we fear, sin, and hide like a merry-go-round sinking underwater.
Jesus loved us while we were yet sinners, so we can come up for air. The presence of God makes us unafraid. Fearlessness makes us strong in passion. We grow bold in our convictions. Therefore, we do not sin. That’s why it’s the goodness of God that leads men to repentance. Not the rules or law. You can’t scare someone into true submission of the heart. You can scare them into submission of the mind or body. But the heart is what God is after. He knows fear will not lead to your salvation. Therefore, He did it the hard way. Loving our selfish, sinful, pitiful selves until we learned who God really was and so chose to change ourselves forever.
Let go of shame. And let go of pride. We all have dirt on our faces. And we all need to be knocked down from our position from time to time to remember it. Or else the destruction may be far greater.
We may have a desire to be great and hold magnificent status. But the truth is, when you die, most people won’t care or remember you. Oh, there will always be close friends and family who talk about you for a few weeks or months, if you are lucky. But most everyone will continue on in their day-to-day lives. In fact, the most famous people that we talk about years, decades, or centuries after they are gone are superficial relationships at best. Most people don’t know Mozart’s or Oppenheimer’s first name, and they only know something they did, not who they were. We don’t know who Robin Williams really was, just that he made us laugh for a couple of decades.
Most people will die and be forgotten. It’s only our children and grandchildren that, on long and seemingly random days, will remember us after we are gone. And those kin will either remember us as a saint or a demon. So I say, your family may be the most important aspect of your life that you try to “get it right” when it comes to being a hero and legend. All others won’t give much care to your absence. My great-grandfather is a legend in our family, not because he was perfect, but because his character shown through; he loved Jesus with all his heart, and he repented.
So, in all this, I say, strive for excellence in your family. Lead and love them well. Chase after all God has for you, but remember that living a simple life of loving and trusting Him and showing others love is the whole summation of it.
Oh! And I never saw Julianna’s family again. Though I still have a note that the girl wrote months before the altercation with her parents, thanking me for all I ever did for her.
I’m sentimental that way.
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The last year has been quite remarkable. Upheaval and turmoil. Joy and gratification. Pain and meaning. Suicidal thoughts of absolute regret followed by thoughts of pure meaning and spiritual purpose.
I’ve come back to a place in my mind often, wondering: “If I knew then what I know now, would I still confront my employers? Would I plead with them for what I considered paramount to the ministry and health of our church?” The result of that conversation was heartbreaking, yet exciting nonetheless. I was trusting God and listening to the Holy Spirit, standing up for injustice and doing my best to honor the king while he was so clearly naked. The excitement of it all lay in the unknown. A restart! How wonderful! But that anticipation gave way to bitter sorrow soon after every expectation was dashed and every idea thwarted. None of the road turned the way I imagined and took far longer to travel.
So when I ask myself, “Would I still have done it, if I knew then what I know now,” some of the chief things that affirm my decision are: seeing my children thrive and mature faster and in greater ways than I ever could have dreamed; my love and admiration for the Lord and His Word grown exponentially; my wife’s dreams coming true again and again; and, sadly, knowing how many former “friends” were willing to portray my wife and myself as “devil-worshipers”, “brain-washers”, and “sickly deranged from the effects of Covid”. (What a wonderful and sorrowful thing it can be to know what people really think of you!)
So I move onward, and the healing has been rich and lengthy. I find joy on the mountainside working with a saw and hammer alongside my father. I find purpose holding a hen in her sad, final moments. I find hope watching my kids face their fears. I find comfort in my wife’s soft arms.
Exhausting. Yes, indeed. This is exhausting, working with my hands. So much so, that I’ve barely written a thing on this website. Whatever sort of routine there has been was balanced around teaching my children, tilling my land, building structures, restoring a farmhouse, and finding a community. But now, at the end of what seemed like the first “season”—a Season of Foundation, let’s call it—I find the elbow room for a new routine. One that includes regular public writing.
Don’t misinterpret my words. I’ve been faithful to write every day, just as Hemingway suggested. But those things are deep in a journal that someone will have to lift from my cold fingers when I’m long gone.
Instead of my mere musings on the morning rise, I plan on jotting down the public things for subscribers to read again. Sermons and nuggets. Poetry and journal entries.
Greater still, I’ve come to realize the Dolor Series needs a significant overhaul. I’ve mulled it over for a few months now. How can I find inspiration in the thing I left behind? Whilst Florida weighs such a significant part of my heart, the truth is that I’ve moved toward something far heavier, and live in my true home, now—the one I realize I was made for all along. I have already begun the preliminary research on how to do this rewrite and will begin immediately. In the meantime, the first manuscript will remain up for you to enjoy, but slowly the chapters will evolve and some disappear altogether, only to be replaced by much more resilient and, hopefully, better writing.
Aside from that little thought and update on where I am, here are some further things I’ve journaled in the month of June:
It is by abandonment and recklessness that I hear the Voice of God and see the manifested Heart of the Father.
Oh, what if all the days of my life could be spent with the Father! May I not rush to work, but rush to Your presence.
People want to be followers of Jesus’ Movement, rather than Jesus Himself. To follow Jesus means to leave everything. To follow a movement requires only a little time or money.
A prayer for myself leads to selfishness, which leads to rebellion, which leads to witchcraft. A prayer for his friends is what led Job out of hell. So, pray for others, I tell myself.
The soft, scared and seared, politically correct, self-help factory that most churches are turning into would never have made it out of the first century. The Church is meant to be fiery. Help us, Lord. Raise up leaders and pastors that are unafraid and full of the Gospel.
A raven represents wisdom and death. She is a bird overlooked, yet always heard. A bird thriving and never dying. Bring the ravens and they shall feed us.
Perhaps why I love fiction so much is that Instructional Books seem to get people from A-Z too quickly, when most of us need years or decades to finally get over ourselves and learn the lesson. Good fiction takes people on the journey, and that journey may be interpreted at different times of our lives.
To search for personal justice is the root of atheism, because it leans on my own understanding instead of the Lord. It longs for things to be made right and my life appeased. But it shall never be on the earth or with earthly people. Justice lies only in Heaven and from God. Desiring a life that makes me “feel good” about everything is petty. Instead, enter into the Master’s Happiness and stop caring and waiting for everything to “make sense”.
Do now what you will have to do then.
I feel almost guilty for my lack of apparent love for others. I fear I have grown cold. But in my heart I feel I have grown up. Few people now warm my soul like Christ does. And even fewer do I turn toward. I do not despise others. Namely, I find joy in everyone I interact with. There is just no sense of need for them like I need Heaven.
Florida is barely a memory. And yet I do not feel at home in Tennessee yet. I wonder if that means I have no home on earth.
The world keeps screaming “self, self, self,” but John said, “He must increase, I must decrease.”
It takes effort to be noble. Which is why it is worth it. Everywhere I look, Christians are sacrificing integrity, honor and nobility for convenience and pleasure. Alcohol, lewdness, marijuana/CBD, therapy, cheating, shortcuts, bitterness, backbiting. These things are far from the Kingdom of God. All things are lawful, but, surely, not all things are beneficial. At some point, we must decide to strive toward nobility.
I wonder if ever I could fully trust in God. How desperate I am to become desperate!
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(A poem from the 31st of May, 2022):
What is this feeling like pain and betrayal?
There are brothers, and there are comrades;
There are warriors, and there are passers-by.
I’m weak and You are strong.
I want to decrease and not matter anymore.
I never want to worry again,
I never want to fear again;
But I’m worried and afraid I will.
Teach me, speak to me, make me a better man,
I need Your voice;
Anything else is just a dagger in my lungs.
I’m dancing from leaf to leaf like a droplet of rain,
Falling from grace to grace,
Wondering if I’ll ever stop and collect myself.
Maybe You’ll catch me and drink me up.
Then I won’t have to wonder anymore,
On when I hit the ground and splatter all over the place.
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Integrity is everything. What am I without integrity? What is a tree without its roots? What am I without integrity? Nothing but a sniveling fool obsessed with his own image. I am things too horrible to describe. So I will leave it at that.
The truth is that none is above sin except Christ. And the simplest snare to fall into is not the one unseen–But the one we think not dangerous or large enough to snag us. The one we think beneath us.
I may feel lonely, but at least I am not ashamed.
I’m not above anything. Namely, it’s my own fortitude that frightens me. I feel the pull of pride and its long flowing dress that mesmerizes and tells me I’m king. But next, I know, it smothers and destroys.
Integrity is everything. Without your roots in the truth and honesty, you cannot grow. You may fool everyone for a bit like a weed, but you will never really be growing.
There’s a driving ambition to be great and worthy and QUICK! DO IT NOW! And now I know for certain: On the Altar of Acceptance, will we sacrifice our souls.
When I complain and grow weary, I hear God’s tender, blunt question, “Where were you when I formed the world?”
Prepare yourself like a man. You are in the midst of great change and you can not hide from God. You can not hide from God.
God’s plan takes time. Roses wait a whole year before they bloom. And insects, weather, other plants, and disease can disrupt that process at any moment. But when they bloom! My goodness. God’s plan takes time.
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I find it interesting, if not reasonably disheartening, that our introductions (especially among men) usually begin with the question: “What do you do?”
We are inadvertently declaring to one another that “what you do” defines “who you are”. But as I’ve been transplanted into a new community and asked this question a number of times, I find a somber angst growing in my soul. I couldn’t possibly explain who I am by giving one pigeon-holed title to another. Sometimes I reply “pastor”. Others it’s “writer” or “farmer”, or just awkwardly get around the question because I know neither I nor he wants the answer.
I think a more apt question would be “what do you like to do?” Of course, this must be genuine and heartfelt, not rudimentary or political, and must be accepting of whatever length of time is needed to properly answer. This would be the only way to accordingly initiate the knowledge of another. Anything rushed and curt is a tell-tale sign that neither party really cares.
I watched three of the four sparrow chicks fly from their nest and the fourth remains alone. All have been spooked by myself or the dog, and I am apologetic each time. The last seemed to struggle the most, hovering above the lawn until she caught enough wind to carry her across the street into a hackberry. I’m sure she will be fine.
It’s a pleasure to witness each first flight. Now, I am alone with Number 4. She stares at me in her solitude. I wonder what carries through her mind. Indecision. Fear. Excitement. Wonder. Confusion. Loneliness (although surely Comfort from having more room).
I suspect she will be gone by the end of the day.
There’s something magical about the Smoky’s. That haze and quiet wind’s mysterious, yet subtle allure. You feel the sense of it calling you but at the same moment know danger is in her foothills. I could stare at her all day.
Number 4 just left the nest. As I sat here with Paul’s second letter to Timothy, I heard a chirp and glanced up to see her rise from the center of the nest and crown its edge. Up and down, her head bobbed and bravery throbbed. Back and forth, she let adventure call her and fear vex her. Once more, up and down, back and forth, and a little chirp before the first leap. She collided with the siding, course-corrected, and made a flight (albeit ungracefully) to the sugar maple her first sibling alighted into.
Just like that, the nest is empty. It served its purpose and now all that remains are pungent filth and happy memories. Their parents may never see them again, and I myself may only witness them flitting off the feeder hanging from the sugar-berry. They are gone, and this chapter done.
Should I remove the nest or erect a monument? Perhaps it will stay there until next season when another sparrow needs it.
God the Father gives the sparrows a place to rest and grow. How much more so does He love you and provide for you? Seek first the kingdom of God and all these things will be added unto you. You will have your nest and you will have your flight (most likely lacking grace and undeniably unorthodox). One day the nest will be empty and hardly a memory or word will be spoken of its decaying self.
Reading Second Timothy, I realize that we as a westernized Church have closed the gap to “always learning and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth”.
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May 17th, 2023 Mark 9:48 “Where their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched.” Like poison that spreads its arms out both ways into the past and future. Until every action of another (some "Offender"), whether right, wrong, or indifferent, is seen through a lens of disgust and hatred. That’s what bitterness does. It’s the worm that never dies and never finishes its meal. Until its Inhabitant sees its Offender as a demon. And soon the Inhabitant becomes one himself. This is what awaits those who enter Hell, you know? Those sightless, brooding worms: Bitter, Blame, and Self-Righteous. Hell doesn’t need fire, brimstone, and cold dank caverns. It needs only a nice, quiet solitude where hatred can fester. And once that bitterness takes root, it will spread back beyond to the beginning of the Individual’s life and reveal nothing but Hell all along. For those who find Heaven will find that earth was always a prelude and stepping stone to its beauty. But those who find Hell will find that earth was always Hell. The root begins in the Individual’s local offenders—family, friends, neighbors. But eventually it spreads its reach further to government, outsiders, and finally unto God. And upon Him will the Hell-bent Soul hold all accountability for its sin. You see, Jesus knew that the blame of all sin would be put on Him, no matter what. Either accepted by Himself as an act of love on the cross, or thrown at Him in desperation and blood-thirsty ignorance of those in Hell. And whence those souls in Hell mount up their individual sins upon Him, He will become a demon in their eyes and the circle will be complete. They will see then that their god is a demon, and its name is Satan. What is it then, to “redeem the time”? For bitterness works itself forward and backward, casting its long deformed shadow across those we find offensive, making demons of them all. But forgiveness, likewise, meanders down the forward and backward paths of time in our hearts and minds. It cleanses. It digs deep into crevices that the soul was unaware of. It burns us; by all means is abhorrently uncomfortable. For the soul must be reminded again and again to continue its work—forgiveness must take its full effect, lest it be undone and uprooted. Eventually, the water washes the soul entire and we are able to hold no offense any longer. We can see the Offender as Christ sees them—perfect and blameless. That is what it is to redeem the time. To let forgiveness wash us from past to future and heal our souls. Colossians 4:5 Walk in wisdom toward those who are outside, redeeming the time.
May 18th, 2023 Jason’s house was ransacked, and a riot nearly killed all of them in Ephesus. Paul calls this a “labor of love” and moves on. The first letter to Thessaloniki shrugs off this abuse and turns the attention back to its complainer. What are we supposed to do then—Live unclean and fit? No! We are meant to live righteous and holy. God has not called us to mere cleanliness, but to righteousness. Not status quo, but above reproach. And in so doing, we will love our neighbor. And the consequence--(or is it the action? Both product and factor? Both affect and cause?)--I lead a quiet life, mind my own business, and work with my hands. And just as Chambers said- so doing will bring more to Christ than anything else. What am I afraid of besides not receiving fame and glory?
May 19th, 2023
All this talk about slowing down and making time matter was put to the test about a month ago for us. It’s all well and good to say you want to make time for the little things and don’t mind working hard for what matters most. But we don’t really know what the little things are until they smack us in the face.
Then, about six weeks ago, the microwave broke. That little device that’s been around for 80 years has become an institution. Not for proper meals, but all the in-between. The quick-fix chicken-nuggets because your son doesn’t want the dinner you prepared; The soup, hotdog, or chili your daughter prepares herself for lunch; The popcorn during the movie; And of course, the blessed reheated coffee you nuked for the sixth time today because you nurse your coffee like a psychopath.
When it blew out, it mattered little to us, because there was a spare in the garage, meant to go next door in our Bed and Breakfast. I shrugged and removed the old dinosaur before installing our old reliable. Two weeks passed and Ol’ Reliable blew out as well.
This was a test that I didn’t know I needed and was altogether excited by once a day or two passed us.
I wanted the little moments to matter more. And now they were. I discovered that you don’t really need a microwave for anything except convenience and making your food soggy. What you need is a stovetop, pot, and a little patience. And those things I had plenty of. And now, I don’t know if I will ever go back to the microwave. Not because I’m some self-righteous prig who thinks food tastes better this way (though it does), but merely because I enjoy the process of waiting and preparing.
I think God the Father does as well.
May 20th, 2023 Philippians 4:11 "Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content." I have often revered the need for contentment as a state in which I am satisfied with my family, purpose, career, and home. But I see now contentment really is being satisfied with myself. Now, I do not speak crudely that I should be content with Keith the Sinner or Keith the Foolish. But instead, Keith, son of God, made in His image, wonderfully and fearfully. For the last thing I would endure, is myself or anyone else reading this surmise that I think I (or anyone) can be satisfied with who they are. But I can be satisfied with being myself. I must be okay with me. My mind is my mind and God created it as such. Therefore, if I am striving toward His goal and His likeness, I must be content with who I am in that sense. Especially in being alone. For in my solitude, I find I cannot entrust my heart unto any man, woman, child, or calling—but only unto Christ. And in that “alone” I can find myself with God, content. I am not a failure. I am not a rejection. I am Keith. And He loves me and is proud of me.
Keith G. Alderman 