Just to believe...!

Ah. I keep wondering what in the world is happening, today. It seems like everything has gone completely haywire, for some reason. Just tried to check on a few things on Facebook, even, to see if there was anything to be done today. Nope. Nope. Nope.

It's that day.

The one which used to be lauded above ALL others.

Nope. No go. And no going forth with the whole pansying up to whatever meet seems acceptable. Nope.

Isaiah 59:19.

Church, this morning. Church, tonight, Lord willing.

There was already reason presented, external, this morning for a justification against attending. Doesn't matter. If it's the Lord's will that attendance occur, it will. End of story.

First off, an apology is necessary on my part for having responded too boldly against something attempted as advice. Regardless that I still can't take the advice, or the directive as it were. I can't, because it's not up to me. But apology is required. Lord willing that the opening is presented, this week.

Secondarily, I want to get past this whole vision thing, whatever it was. To be able to begin praying over it, as the pastor said he had to speak with me in regard to it. Sounded potentially ominous, or possibly just... I don't know.

I have no idea. Just to do whatever, as led.

Above and beyond all, praise Jesus for another day alive and awake! That, in itself, is reason for praise. And, further...praise to Him for another opportunity to serve through worship and intercession! And for the opportunity to serve through obedience, even as unto matters of which there's absolutely no understanding.

Isaiah has been the thing, so far.
And Psalms.

Psalms began the day, then unto the latter chapters of Isaiah.
Had no idea Isaiah chapter 60 reveals bits about the coming of the Lord, as to the "New Jerusalem," or how-so it's called. But, yeah--was awesome to read.

And to know the Lord read Isaiah 61 aloud in temple, at the beginning of His ministry?
Just mind-blowing.

It always just completely confounds me, going and reading, to read certain things over and over and sometimes it just feels as though it's been read for the very first time.
All of a sudden, it's just alive and vital in some way it never was before.

Argh! There's just so much I haven't read, yet! And I want to, and I start, and I start again, and I start again. And then something else catches my attention, going into another area already tread, and it's so captivating that it just derails any plan I'd had to read a greater breadth. It's all like a patchwork quilt, so approached. And there's such a large part of me that wants to study every single stitch. Every single stitch. Every thread. But then, I get caught up looking at the squares. And I'll gaze at the pattern on even just a portion of one single square.

And that pattern will just utterly transfix, and another bit will catch my eye which is somehow so very alike and yet unique on another square. 66 Squares. And the colors woven through the older portion are still yet and remain vibrant in the newer 27 squares, and all inextricably interwoven in such a wondrous tapestry that it defies comprehension when I try.

So, I keep trying to find some means of methodical approach to taking in the all, when it's even been beyond me to keep the names of each wholly in mind. They come and go, unbidden, and it's all I can do just to go and read the names for each again, praying this time to maintain grasp.

...and, just now heard mention to consult Robert Murray M'Cheyne's Bible reading calendar, in the sermon being taken in simultaneous.

Oh, praise the Lord!

Because I so want to read it all, and RETAIN it all. In some meaningful capacity wherein it truly lives in me.

I want it to be more real and relevant than anything else.

More ready to mind than anything else.

If it were possible just to sit and stay there, and still to be in the will of the Father.
Which, maybe it'll be His will to be able to do so.

There's just always something, and even this...is an unknown sort of venture.
I pray about it all the while as doing. And prior to.
And sometimes, there are times when I think to do so and can't, but rather need to read or pray.
Or listen.

Nothing comes, those times.

Every day, the Lord's prayer.
Every day.

It's been on my heart, for the past couple weeks...to go before Him every day through that perfect form as given by the Lord.

And every time I forget, I end up hearing it. Which is what reminded me, just now--it was just being read.

Same as in church on Sunday. The pastor was led to pray in that form, precisely, at the end of service during ...benediction, would that be?

Oh, dude is giving a line by line study of the prayer! Oh, yay! Praise the Lord!

So very necessary.

I'm going to share this sermon, too. Here and Facebook, as sometimes is permitted.

Oh, yay! A study of the Lord's prayer!
Thank you, Lord!

Ooooh!!! Glorify God...and...seek first the Kingdom!

And all things else will be added unto you.

...what are we willing to believe Him for?
As, brother Washer related, so saith the Lord: "How far do you want to go?"

Massive.

Waiting on the Lord

Okay.

So, much with continuation of study and prayer and all which coincides. The past couple of days had been a bit off track, for me...and in any way to not be in line with God's will is not desirable.

There are so many things.

Just...to know Him more, to follow Him more clearly and directly, to bring Him glory in everything.

Howsoever it goes.

I have nothing to give. Nothing except that which He is so mighty as to offer through service, in surrender.

And there's always so much which people can find fault with, no matter how a person goes.

I don't know as to speak of anyone except myself, but I can listen to testimony and study the Word as experienced by others. By the grace of God, that there are those who know Him so and have sought Him so as to be able to present truth as they've been so blessed as to experience it unto witnessing to His glory.

Because it's His glory which is all that matters. Jesus is worthy of all praise and honor and glory, and all things done should be done to glorify Him.

No matter what comes. No matter what happens to any of us. Because He's worth it, and it's justly due Him that we should all lift Him up in all service and praise in whatsoever ways He makes available and allows, per His holy guidance and rightful direction.

For He knows far more and far more highly than any of us do. His ways and His thoughts are so much higher...soo much higher than ours. So, if He says to wait...wait. If He says to go...go.

And I'm still learning that--the obedience. He's still perfecting that work in me.

And I just pray that it always continues. And it will, because as Paul had said...He who began a great work in us will see it to completion.

There's just so much more to this all, discipleship and seeking the Lord first, than ever I'd heard it said.

Paul Washer preaches of it, though.

Just like...I can't even entirely remember when the day was, or what had preceeded it, earlier this year...but there was a day, and it was cumulative--it wasn't restricted to just one day, as it still continues..

...just, one day, all of a sudden...I realized how abominable all the many things I'd done and believed were. And not just for the fact of them being against the law, as recorded in scripture. But that I'd done them against Jesus--Him being so precious, above all...and that all the things...all the things I'd done...were as suffering to Him, as against Him. And it seemed the most terrible thing ever.

The most terrible thing. Absolutely. To...in ways, as it were...have been actively striking Him, myself, through all the heresies and hypocrisies. Through all the active rebellion and disobedience. It was as striking Him, myself. To act against His will, one who so loved...
...to act against loving ways and means to others, whom He so loved...
...to act in strife against myself, even, whom He so loved.

And it was a devastating realization.

And I wanted absolutely no more of it, to act against Him in any way. No more of it, to act against anyone else in any way which He wouldn't approve. Even as to act against myself, no.

I want no more of it. No more. Ever.
Because He is wonderful above all things.

And His love and justice and grace and mercy are just so exceeding anything which I could have ever imagined, even desiring them...I had no idea.

Just...to serve Him.
As He forgave me, even for my greatest atrocities, when I realized how horrible they were before Him, and asked Him to forgive me...he did.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.

and on..

"For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.
 He that believeth on him is not condemned:but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God."

Yeah.

He forgave me. I didn't deserve it. I could never deserve it, but out of love, He did so. Such grace.

So, who am I, not to forgive? ...and, who am I, that I wouldn't forgive myself?

What a presumptuous thing, that He would forgive me, and I would somehow place myself as a higher judge than the Lord Almighty, as not to forgive myself?

Terrible.

So, no. I surrender all that, to Him.
Because it's idolatry, not to forgive self, given that the Lord of All has been so gracious as to forgive me through His atonement for my sins.

And I don't have it all perfectly in order. But I have faith in Jesus, and He guides me and directs my learning. And He's working sanctification in me, even and to completion.

The works of grace are inexplicably awesome...exceeding comprehension.

It still stands, a conversation from a...month and some?...ago..

Driving, praying. That, no mater what was to happen to me...either way, even if damnation were my end result...I still want to serve the Lord in whatever ways are possible, because He's worthy. No matter what's to happen--it doesn't matter, just to serve Him.

I don't care, so long as whatever can be done to His service is done. Because He's worthy.

It's not about me, even as there are so many things which by grace, I can do. In whatever ways, as long as in some way, it can bring Him glory.

I just pray that so many come to know Him, even more and evermore truly. His glory exceeds definition or comprehension. All I know is that it's beyond anything I can imagine, and that He's worthy of all praise.

It's all so very wonderful to think on.

Something has come up today which has me praying.
It's been told that one of the pastors whose churches I've been able to attend received a vision, and I was in the vision.

And there's no way to know what that means. Except to know that we are to judge all the spirits.
Even as knowing the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, so to know that He does give prophecy and vision.

With the bits of prophetic word which had been given, over the past many weeks, from the Lord to me through other of His servants...I'd had a discussion with Him about it, for a while.

Because, just as is reading the Bible, it's addictive to know the Lord to speak...to have Him give direct message.

Like He did last night. When I prayed to Him that, as it goes, whether to death or to His glory in healing...whatever is His will. Just, whatever is His will. And then for one girl to be given to speak, unto prayer for me, then to lay hands in prayer, as she put it that she was told to put "the breath of life in."

I've been thinking (praying) on that, still, and it's an answer. His grace is sufficient. In whatever ways are necessary, as His will is done.

Last week, though, it had been a couple weeks since someone had given a Word direct from Him to me. And, as the times in which He's so blessed me have been--I didn't expect nor seek it out, except being in search of Him, through worship and the Word...it's always been while seeking Him first, He provides.

Always.

And last week, I'd gotten it into my head that I wanted more, directly from Him. In addition to prayer and reading and receiving teaching of the Word. I wanted more. And, I got it into my head that I needed to go out and find places where He'd speak to me that way, again.

Quickly rebuked for that bit, for sure. Because it was a blessing to the extent that it absolutely humbled and devastated to have received such a direct Word, to begin with...and I was basically beginning to look at is as something which should be sought, in and of itself--receiving word, direct. Receiving prophetic word.

Saul was brought to mind.
And...that was an absolutely humbling and terrifying thought.

Saul was brought to mind, in terms of when he went to a witch to hear from Samuel.

That...oy. That was a terrible, terrible thing.

That was an abomination.

Seeking the Lord for the sake of receiving gifts is...oy.

Seek Him for the sake of WHO HE IS.

Because He's sovereign and awesome and glorious and majestic and wonderful and loving and just and righteous and holy. Because He is who He is. He is I AM.

He's worthy of all honor and praise and worship and glory and service and surrender and devotion because He is who He is.

And...for all He has done. Because of who He is.

So, prophecy or prophetic word moreso, when it does come from the Lord...is another call to bow in reverential fear and worship of the Lord. It's a call to be in awe of His majesty. Not to glorify self, for having received or been given.

In true course, it's all the more humbling. Seek the Lord, not his prophets.
Although it can and has helped a lot to be edified in the Word...again, it's an humbling experience, as edifying to the Lord.

Last night has been humbling, the more I pray about it.

Something which comes to mind, and has been mentioned multiple times in recent weeks, was His conversation with Elijah. As in 1 Kings 19, referenced by Paul in Romans 11. Elijah got to the point where he felt like he was the only one remaining who served the Lord, in spirit and in truth, and he was set to rights by the Lord. He sought to serve the Lord--was "jealous for Him," or as I read it...jealous on His behalf, seeing such abominations as were going on. But the Lord, Himself, set Elijah back to work and let him know that He, Himself, had kept to Himself a remnant of 7,000.

Back to work, it was. Not to sit in fear or in self-concern, or even in concern over the state of matters. But to continue the work given him.

And there are most whom I've heard exegete this bit of scripture who take up a mocking stance, over Elijah, that he had gotten to the point where he felt himself so very set apart to the Lord that he could no longer conceive of anyone else being in such a state of sanctification. There's generally been the consideration of it, given by preachers, as though the Lord rebuked Him with a sort of hardness in proclaiming that Elijah wasn't alone--in the sense that "You think you're so holy? Well, I have 7,000 others I've kept, so tell me again--who are you?"

When I read it myself, though...that doesn't really seem to be it. Angels had been ministering to Elijah, in his defeat and exhaustion. He'd just fulfilled a great work unto the Lord, destroying all the false prophets/priests of Jezebel. He was broken. He was overcome. He was seeking refuge and respite. And angels came to nourish his body, when he was so weak as to ask the Lord to die...that he was no better than anyone who had died before him, such that he should be permitted to longer live.
And he went to the mount of the Lord, it says.

He sought refuge in the Lord, when death wasn't given. For there were those who sought his life, and he felt alone and without refuge except for that of the Lord.

And the Lord came to him, asking him what he was doing. The Lord revealed Himself to Elijah, then. In his brokenness and desperation and uncertainty and his belief that all he'd done was failure, even as he had so sought the will of the Lord that he felt himself as jealous on the Lord's behalf.
The rebuke was so gentle, though. If there truly was any rebuke in what the Lord told him.
He told Elijah what to do, directly. In Elijah's weakness, the Lord came in strength to directly order his steps. And, finally, with a statement that he not feel hopeless as being alone in service to the Lord--there were 7,000 whom the Lord, Himself, had kept!

That, to me, is a message of hope. To be told that he wasn't alone, in his service before the Lord. To be so blatantly told that he wasn't the only one...when his heart of hearts desired that all should serve the Lord? That...rather than being a rebuke, seems more an edification.

It must have strengthened Elijah's heart, going back out in the Lord's service, to be able to reflect that the Lord's remnant was sound and kept by the Lord, Himself.

This, as opposed to what I hear everywhere...a permutation of pride which looks into the Word seeing itself, rather than the Lord. If your heart desires to see itself as individually holy before the Lord, above all others, then so would one see it of others. Unto envy. Unto covetousness. Unto mockery for one who is seemingly rebuked for that sort of mentality.

But, I don't know.

Maybe there was a slight bit of gentle reproof, in the commandments and proclamation of the Lord, given to Elijah in that moment. What I see, though, what I read...is love and ministry unto one who was weak and beaten and seeking refuge from the world, in the only place refuge and succour can be found--in the Lord.

I don't know, though. Just...when I hear folks mocking the reproof of prophets and of Israel, it just seems like they're out for blood which isn't theirs to have. We all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.

I see my own faults, my own foibles, my own rebellion, my own disobedience, in all the old stories, in all the new. And know it's only by the grace of God that I can be humbled by that awareness, given that I'd never known it before. I'd never seen my own rebellion and disobedience in that of the nation of Israel being brought out of Egypt, until these past few months. But it's there.

So, there's all the more reason to pray, when folks shake their heads in wonder over how the Israelites could be "so blind" and "so ignorant" and "so ungrateful." Because we've all done it, in one way or another. Only self-righteousness claims otherwise, as it once did within me.

And I have to keep that in mind. I have to always remember that nothing anyone else has ever done or ever does is anything which is different from the rebellions and disobedience which I'd been so caught up in.

It's only grace that's saved me. Jesus has saved me, and it's not by anything I did. The Father draws us to salvation, even. Not of works, lest any man should boast.

So, it's all the more reason to pray, as to see it and recognize it as what was once my own. The wages of sin is death, regardless of what the sin is...to break the least of the law is to break it all.

I just pray that He shows the same mercy upon them as He did upon me, in opening eyes to being so very lost. Even as I still pray over His new mercies, every day--that I can become more aware as to know and repent of that which still abides in error, within me...and those acts which are outside of His will, which are still to be repented of. Because I don't know, unless He shows me. I don't know how disobedient I've been, unless He reveals it to me. Through prayer and reading the Bible and listening to His ministers of the Word.

Whatever there is, to be revealed unto repentance for us all.

Translation, in terms of salvation, as presented by the pastor the other night. I'd been querying over it. The term has gone round and round, as it applies to sanctification, and the pastor explained it in terms which made sense. He related to the term as used in scripture, in terms of the way Roman civilization proceeded. They would conquer an area, take folks into bondage, bring them into slavery, take them into their civilization and translate them into their culture. They would be translated in the sense that they would be shaped and molded to conform to the culture they were then a part of, having been effectively removed from their former culture--regardless of whether they were still in company of others who were from the prior culture, they were translated into adopting the new culture as their own.

And I can't but imagine it a gradual process.

Sanctification has been the same. Being translated into the Kingdom of God, having been delivered from darkness, redeemed unto repentance, and forgiven of our sins.

It's a miracle, it really is. Salvation is a miracle.
New creatures.

So, as far as prophetic word goes, it's not even secondary. And it has to be judged, every bit as much as anything else. Every time. All the time.

Always.

When I'd first come back to visit, prior to moving, someone told me they saw a vision of me on a platform in front of a large...field, he said it. He said it looked like a stadium.
The next time, when I came back, he said it had been a vision of me in a field, with all sorts of children, all around. And I was teaching. He told me his interpretation--that I was to be a children's minister. A children's pastor, he said.

Two things, though. Or three, really.
1) If it's from God, of God, then it'll come to pass.
2) If it's from God, He'll open the doors and it'll be howsoever He decrees.
3) Visions are often representative/metaphorical, even as they can be literal.

So, I'm not concerned about it. If it's the Lord's will that I should minister, literally, to children...then, so be it. If it's His will that I should minister to spiritual children, then so be it.
If it's His will that I should minister in any capacity, beyond that which is, then so be it.

But it certainly won't be by my will or by my design/plan. My will has ever led to destruction. My plans have ever led to defeat and further realized need for increased surrender to His will.

So, rather than going down that path again, I'll wait on the Lord.

Because trying to force something into being, just because someone thinks it's of the Lord or in the Lord's will...? Yeah, not so much.

His will is done, ultimately regardless of what we do. He's sovereign.
So, if He wants me in a more blatant form of ministry, His will be done.
My only place is to seek Him and do as He bids, as He orders steps and makes the path straight.

Not to shrink or shirk. No.
And given the expenditures of will and energy which I'd put out in so many directions, before, to be able to walk in His will is far preferable. Even as it means surrendering everything. Patience was never something I'd excelled in, but waiting on the Lord is an honor.

For months, it kept being "Be still, and know that I am God." Now, it's "wait on the Lord."
A very subtle shift. Still, of the same.

To be still, and know He is God. Then, so knowing, to wait on Him.

Psalm 46 to Psalm 27.
Much of the same, yet so much more.

So, whatever the vision I'm awaiting now, the Lord is the same.
And He is my strength and refuge. He is my salvation and my light.

One day, unto the next, as He so wills. And all else, amen.

To seek Him, not visions. To seek Him, not exegesis.
Even as those can be part of the process, the paramount call is to seek Him.
To glorify Him in all things.
And He is faithful and just and true.
Loving and merciful and holy.

Oh, praise the Lord, forever!

In prayer and supplication..

Nothing, today. Listening to sermons when there are other things which need to be done.

He's so patient. Even trying to do well, I do wrong sometimes. Or, if not wrong, then not entirely right either.

Another day, another opportunity to do whatever can be done, as directed.

I just let physical stuff overcome progress, sometimes. Still praying to overcome as to surrender more completely, so to do. And I don't know how, so it's just prayer after prayer. Conversation after conversation.

Not wholly dejected, no--there's still the abiding peace and love. Just, I'm disappointed and frustrated with myself.

He has infinitely more patience with me than I do.

I want to be doing things. I want to be involved in so many facets of ministry. I want to enroll in another college and seek to acquire what the world deems necessary, so to acquire rank unto influence. I want to go and do. Or to just learn. I want to be doing things.

But, as with today, I did things. Listened to an eight hour series on salvation. And it was good.
But the whole time felt as though there was something else to do.

And I just ignored that inclination, in favor of doing what seemed right, to me.
Listening to sermons and reading the Bible.

Just feeling so remorseful, now. There are other things which I should've been doing, engaging.
And I let the physical fallout unto desire for recuperation overwhelm the urge to do what could be done.

I have a difficult time accepting healing, in other words. It's something which other people need and should receive, but there's some wonky mental block against receiving it on my own behalf (aside of in regard to death). Continuing to pray. Because that's something He can help me overcome, too.

By His stripes I am healed, and it's a terrible thought to believe that such a sacrifice would be denied because I know I don't deserve it. None of it was deserved, what He did for us all. We didn't deserve any of it, but He did it. For God so loved the world...

So, that blockade against receiving healing? Yeah, it's an inverted sort of pride and it has to go.
Because to refuse healing out of some conjecture along the lines of "I don't deserve to be healed--it's penance" or "I don't need it, I can manage"...? He paid penance for us all, already. He bore those stripes, by which we are healed.

How much better is it then, to refuse healing? ...compared to those who refuse salvation, because they don't deserve it? I was caught in that latter trap for two years, and it was only by the grace of God that it was evaded.

So, by his grace is healing available to those who will receive it.

During intercessory prayer tonight at one of the churches, I asked Him to either heal me or let me die. But that there was so much work to be done, if it be His will for me to do whatever can be done.

One of the girls, as the prayer began to shift, asked whose pain she was feeling. He has been masking the pain, because I don't know how to receive healing completely. I know that by His stripes I'm healed, but don't know how to surrender to His will as to ever receive. But...she prayed for me. They all did. And I thanked Him, amongst them.

Afterward, she told me she'd been instructed to lay hands on both sides of my head, praying. As so to breathe His breath of life.

She did.

I received. And my ears and jaw and teeth are burning, still. Not hurting. Burning. But not in a painful way.

It's just...it's weird. Because the pain became acute as though migraine, over course of Saturday, but wasn't enough to restrict necessities. And it remained most day, Sunday, until it went away after the final service, after testimony. And it's not been noticed the past couple days, except that there's been...lack of energy.

Eh, it's whatever it is. And I know part of it, but am not going to claim it. Healing, instead.

There are so many things I'm still struggling with, really. Trying to surrender more wholly...because some new area comes up, still, through prayer...some area which I didn't even realize I've been holding onto. The stuff with the physical is a big one.

I'm back and forth with it, a lot.

Yeah, I know I died. I know there have been a number of times under various types of duress when I've awoken from 'sleep' with a gasp for air--I assume that I'd stopped breathing, just given the way it goes. The last was after having a bout with accidentally poisoning myself to some extent, using clove oil extract as a numbing agent.

So, I've still been struggling with that...over how to even surrender it. Not that I had any idea how to surrender anything else, either. It's taken ongoing prayer and progressive correction. A little adjustment here, a little adjustment there, then...bam...something would just change everything, out of nowhere. Grace, best I can figure.

Something would come up to tempt, and I got to the point where I'd basically envision myself just holding my heart up to the Lord, asking Him to take it because I couldn't do anything with it. When jealousy tries to set in. Or anger. Or impatience. I still have to do that, although it's not as often now as it used to be. In Tampa, when all this type of surrender started, it seemed like it was only every couple minutes I'd have to hold something up to Him, asking Him to help my helplessness.

And, even on the way home tonight, praying about all this stuff...praying about how there was nothing I could do, that I didn't know what to do...just giving it up. A thought snuck up, trying to assert that "God helps those who help themselves."

Oh, that didn't go over well. For one, self-sufficiency is high treason--no matter what anyone ever tells themselves, it's only by the grace of God that they're even alive as to DO anything. And, after taking that into account, reconsidering that particular bit of old-school heresy was a short matter...
He helps those who are helpless. He helps those who are broken. He helps those who acknowledge His sovereignty.

The folks who help themselves generally tend to refuse to acknowledge God in any meaningful way, given that their own efforts are in a place of such high esteem as to make anything else seem secondary.

So, yeah. No.

I hate when crap tries to sneak stuff in as though it were truth, when I'm in the midst of struggling over something. I thank God for being able to tell, though...it's by grace, discernment of the Holy Spirit.

But some of the stuff is so tempting, sometimes. Self-pity used to be such a point of being. When it tries to sneak in, as it has attempted all day today, it takes more prayer and praise to overcome. ...because I don't always recognize it for what it is, initially, given that self-pity is something which used to consume so much time and energy. It's a more "familiar" foe, in other words, so I don't always realize as quickly that it's something which isn't welcome any longer.

The Lord has kept me safe, though.

Some far more nefarious things attempted to interject themselves, late in the day, today. But they're every bit as unwelcome as is self-pity. So, I'll stay safe as resting in the love of my Savior.

Just one bit of doing things by my own will, though...as with all the sermons today and studying, rather than either being on here doing stuff or doing whatever else was supposed to be the thing..
...one little bit of even kinda-sorta disobedience, and it opens the door for all sorts of attacks.

But Jesus knows me better than I know myself. So, he'll use today to the good--I've more clearly realized the need to surrender more wholly, in addition to realizing further need for repentance as having gone by my own will today...and being able to just be more open about things helps, too.
In addition to the other ways it's working on the whole to my good, to His glory.

One step at a time, is all.

Something new?

Oh, Praise the Lord!

He is so awesome. He does so many wonderful things, always. And He explains things so very thoroughly and so very well and in such amazing ways!

All the many things being tentatively grasped were just so succinctly and powerfully wound together in a sermon provided by a brother who ministers in a Baptist church in Kentucky, whose ministry the Lord has extended to provide through television broadcast. Every Tuesday night, although it never crosses my mind except that my stepmother often remembers to tune in and I wander through.

We sit and watch and listen and praise the Lord together, and it's wonderful to hear the Gospel so boldly pronounced. He made a point of mentioning that the best commentary on the Bible is the Bible (which was something wandered through as unto testimony, a few days ago...even as my understanding is so very brief, as just to my own witness). And outlined the ways in which the scripture is the Word of God, it is the Word of Christ. Sufficient for all things necessary as guidance.
And of how Christ was from the beginning, even as He was born into time through Mary. How He is the Creator--all things created were created by Him, nothing was created without Him. And how He is the one who delivers us, translates us, redeems us, and forgives us. Through the power of His crucifixion, death, resurrection, and ascension to sit at the right hand of the Father.

And the preacher brought Word from Old and New Testament, all to the same Gospel...to the same good news of Christ.

It was wonderful. HE is Wonderful.

I'd been so getting caught up on the process of His work in me, regarding all that happened in February through May, particularly. There were so many things going on, all seemingly at once, and so the chronology has still been a bit loosely interwoven in my mind. Same as to how I kept getting confused about confessing Jesus as Savior and Lord in 2010, but not accepting salvation as a work of grace until 2012. I kept getting the timeline confused, because it all seems so infinitely interwoven and there are so many things which were occurring around that progress. So, so many things.

And then to begin to openly profess Him as Lord of my life in truth and spirit, a couple months ago. Which seems like just yesterday.

I'd been wondering about what the weird period was between surrendering the conceit of self-sufficiency, then beginning to crave sanctification, unto repentance and being changed, then to the long process of forgiveness (forgiving self has been such a battle--ultimately repented of and surrendered to Him). Having been redeemed, so to be forgiven.

And the timeline probably isn't really significant, but there's just this pressing compulsion to line it out. Which make take some time, really.

It took time to complete, so taking time to record the process makes sense.

And I don't know why.

But it's been something which has been on my heart for the past six months--to record my testimony.
And the accounts thus far given have been entirely brief. If I were to record every moment from which revelation has been received, as to my deliverance from things which were actively seeking to mire me without my awareness except as to note oddity at the time...? Yeah, that would be a novel and a half.

Because so many things have become clear. So many things which have ever caught my attention, yet without understanding except as to wonder for them seeming...particularly fascinating for some reason. So many conversations, bits and pieces, and so many incidents.

All of which just springs randomly to mind, but in a wholly new context now seen.

So many things to give thanks for, continually.

And, again--I believe it's so for everyone.
When you desire to further praise the Lord, so many things become new reason for worship.

...the old things are passed away, and all things are become new.

There are so many things I ask Him about, still. If anything, the insatiable curiosity which has always driven me onward has become even more insatiable for receiving such vital and continual and constant result. Being curious of Him. And curious of His ways. And of all things about Him.

And, still knowing so little...it's always humbling to realize that no matter how much I learn, there will ever be so much more. He is infinite. His ways are unknowable--He exceeds comprehension. Yet, every little bit I glimpse just makes me want so much more.

That, to me, is love. Constantly being fulfilled and wanting more and knowing that it will always continue as such. Fulfillment unto a desire for more, then to be fulfilled and again crave more. Yet, not with a desperation. With hope. Full of hope.

Even as love is so much more.

So much more.

It's companionship. It's understanding. It's acceptance. And affectionate regard.
Desiring good and enacting it.

Giving without requirement. Asking without expectation. Full of hope and joy and peace and compassion and patience and humility and all things good.

Unconditional.

I've sought to find and to express unconditional love, all my life. And it's found in Jesus. Him, alone.

He's everything, to me. Everything.

He's rescued me from absolute despair, so many times. Pulled me out of pits so deep that I couldn't even begin to believe in a way out. And kept death from claiming me as its own, so many times as it's tried.

I'm His. He is mine.
And the opportunities for interacting with my brothers and sisters in that fellowship with Christ have been more wonderful than words can express. Just to share in His love, for a moment, in word.

The situation I'm in is very strange, to me. As far as circumstances go. There are so many things I keep thinking to do. So many things. But He has to be first.

I can't afford to do otherwise. It would be like suffocation.

Just...having lived the whole "self-sufficient" lifestyle for so many years, and knowing it's something that's physically and financially possible to maintain, if I were so to insist...? It's very humbling to be in this position.

Even to write about it. Because there are aspects thereof which aren't for discussion. One of my pastors discerned them, but it wasn't something I was able to say. And it's all to the good. All to the good.

Even as it's an humbling position to be in. Which is good, in itself.
Humility is absolutely necessary. Absolutely.
Thoughts of self-sufficiency, even, are hurtful.

Because I can't exist apart from Him.
And to try to do so, by stepping out in my own will again?
Travesty.

Just...again--everyone has their own path.

For all I know, I may end up hitchhiking the country at some point.
Or living in a cave somewhere.

Or living in my car (which is by the grace of God, so to steward).

I don't know.
I have absolutely no idea.

I may even be led to join a mission.

I don't know.

All I know is that, right now, I'm here.
And I'm studying, and praying, and attending, and learning, and communing, and fellowshipping, and witnessing, and testifying, and sharing all that is given, to whatever ends and by whatever means are made available for such.

In whatever direction is given.

And I don't understand.
But, I don't have to.

Because He does.
And He's in control.

Just to put things in context, a bit, for the rest of you.
It's still available to move to Key West, or to New Orleans, should I choose.
I could move to either of those places, be with people who have played large roles in my survival at some very pivotal points in life.

All that's required is that I renounce my faith.
Because I couldn't do those things and be in those places and live the life I know I'd end up leading, and still have Jesus as the Lord of my life. Following Him means giving up on those things, because they separated me from His presence. So, the choice has been mine--either experience His presence in my daily walk and in all moments, fellowshipping with Him in all things.

Or go and do the things which were killing me, yet which are what the world deems as desirable.

Not going to happen.
To be able to rest in His love is something which is precious above anything the world had ever offered.

The money, the companionship of like-minded individuals, the pursuits of prestige, of acceptance, of honor, of status, and the pursuit of being able to do anything at any given time...all only fulfilled such a very small part of me, such that there was always still a gaping need which wasn't being filled.
And, even as I never got to the point where I was "big news" or even entirely popular...what bits of those things which I did taste of, in truth, were still paltry and entirely distasteful in comparison with knowing Jesus.

There's no other way to explain it.

I have no other way to explain it.

Just...I could have all the things of the world, and I know it, and have always known it. Only, every time I'd get so far in pursuit of any one of them, the compromises which were required as part of the process of "success" did such damage to who I am...that I couldn't continue any further, or risk dying entirely to self. And, above all else, I've never wanted to wholly compromise who I am.

And who I am, in Christ, is even so much better than who I ever was in the world.
Because I have Him. I have life in Him. And peace. No matter what's going on, ultimately, so long as I remain in Him.

If all I'd ever wanted was fulfillment, why would I compromise that? No matter where He leads me, or what following Him requires, why would I turn away?

It's all I'd ever wanted and so much more that I'd ever imagined possible, as fulfillment which is living in Him. To compromise that would be utterly inconceivable.

So, I know I don't witness well. I know I don't do it according to the standards which people proscribe. I know I don't do it according to the established principles taught in most churches.

But there are so many people who are hurting and lost and afraid. Both inside and outside of churches. So...soooooo...soooooo many people. And I know that there's nothing I can do to convince them, except just to live as a witness and speak as I'm given to do. Because I love them, and because He loves them even more, and because He knows what it takes far better than I.

Just to spend time in His presence always changed me.
Living, now, in His presence is what makes all the difference in every moment.

I'm kind of surprised I'm being able to talk about this, right now. Few and far between, although randomly, has that been something permissible for discussion.

A pivotal moment, though, was one of the last church services at my primary church in Tampa. Communion service.

They did communion differently than was accustomed. Two altars, one on either side of the church--church elders at each, so to pray for and with the recipient as communion was received.
The pastor was administering communion on the side I was sitting, and after receiving communion, I asked him for prayer for direction...for guidance...and for the ability to hear as to be guided. He prayed for us both to receive those things, and as he was praying for me, I felt the Holy Spirit's presence. And asked the Lord, if it were possible, to always be able to feel His presence that way.

He answered that prayer. And the next day at work was entirely surreal. Everything was utterly beautiful as a reason for praise. All the people were so very precious, beyond what had already been considered. And I just couldn't get past my strong desire to just thank Him for everything, and how utterly wonderful He is, and pleading that we should all know Him in such a way as to always feel Him near as such. And, even wondering why it was something which had never been presented as even a possibility to strive for...I asked Him so many things.

More than anything, though, being in His presence just allows all things else which seek to distract to fall into a place of utter inferiority. To the extent that I began to notice that there were certain things which would so take my focus off of Him as to end up separating me from His presence.

Things like listening to certain music, watching television, watching movies, watching the news, reading certain sites (ah, reddit!), and so many other things. But, in comparison with being able to fellowship with Him and learning so much...all that stuff just doesn't even matter.

It does make discernment a lot easier, too, though...to always be in fellowship with the Holy Spirit.

Because it's no longer something which I have to weigh--I just feel how certain things grieve Him, and can immediately begin to pray, and to ask for guidance and direction and deliverance.
Certain such services have resulted in absolute grief, upon passing again into "solitude."

So, if it grieves Him, then...why would I abandon them? They need help. I need help. We all need Jesus.

If no one else will take Him into the midst, then I will. In whatever way He directs me and allows me so to do. Because it's not a matter of going because I want to. It's a matter of doing what's required of me. And, when something grieves the Spirit, that gives cause to pray immediately for direction.

There must be intercession.
He wills that none should perish, and the time is short.
If He were to give it as something so to do, I'd gladly grab a megaphone and go out to each street corner, so to let Him speak.

Absolutely mortifying, as that would be.
Because it's utterly mortifying to speak in front of crowds, despite that it's been done to the thousands. Utterly terrifying. But, in Him are all things possible.

He has distinct callings for each of us, is all. Increasingly, it's just been on my heart that more people are in dire need of baptism with the Holy Spirit. So, I've been praying for that. As many as will receive, as many as can receive, let them begin to so desire and be led to receive.

Because that was something which was received well after having begun to walk with Him, daily. Being blessed to experience His presence daily, all day, was something which preceded baptism of the Holy Spirit.

It was a separate occurrence.

Just...the whole thing is...as far as why no one ever does that..
...no one ever asks.

I just happened upon that desire and did ask, by the grace of God.
He gives me the desires of my heart...because, honestly, I don't even know what to desire. So He gives me the things which are to be desired. He places the desire in my heart, and then I pray to receive.

People seriously need to start asking.

For deliverance. For true repentance (every day, Lord, show me something new!--help me know what else I need to discard as to be nearer to You!). For salvation. For translation. For transformation. For renewal. For His Presence.

Ask and ye shall receive.

Seek and ye shall find.

But you have to ask!
It's His will that we have these things, but He won't force them upon us!

Pray to have the barriers removed. Pray to have a new heart within you and a clear and clean mind before Him. Pray for the ability to receive from Him, freely. Ask Him what you had ought to pray for!

Just talk to Him. Seriously.
He's the best listener I've ever known. In fact, He listens so much more than He usually responds most days...and, in my case at least, it's mostly because I don't stay quiet long enough to listen (not that the writing here would attest to that sort of tendency, of course).

But you might have an entirely different experience. You might hear all sorts of things.
And He never minds being "tested." Given all the spirits which seek to deceive, He actually directs to scripture reading with absolute frequency as a core part of direction and growth and discernment.

Everyone should want the sort of relationship with Him where it's entirely personal. He fulfills every need, even as part of getting to that point of communion requires a lot of change. We tend to distract ourselves and mire ourselves far too much, in this world...and that hinders our ability to hear Him, so very much.

Like...say...if you set an alarm and then sleep with earplugs? You want to hear the alarm, but you're not going to hear it as well as you would if you removed the obstructions.

Any which, that's what it is.
I'd love to hear of similar experiences, as rooted in the Gospel, rooted in the Word.

Something to do.

There is always still the question of what it means for Jesus to be Lord of one's own life.

The ways in which that has been enacted, in my own life, don't necessarily reflect precisely the same ways it will surely be made true for others. Maybe even, for the lives of those others whom I'd used as measuring sticks to gauge my own, He was and is Lord for them and they are yet in ministry of a different sort than my own.

Paul did make a point of reminding folks that each of their own services to the Lord would take the form of what the Holy Spirit worked individually in them, and corporately in their congregations as a body...such that each individual would receive particular calls on their life, receiving particular gifts for service to the Lord, same as each body of congregants would fulfill a particular role in the entirety of the Body of Christ which is the Church, as a whole.

So, I can't say that their own places in the world weren't as called by the Lord. I can't claim that, with any certainty, as so knowing the Lord to be a personal Savior. He deals with the hearts and minds, the spirits and souls, of individual believers...unto salvation and repentance.

My own experience is only that--my own.

Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

But the way He changes each of us, unto Himself, is different for each of us...as we each have different needs, given different trials and tribulations.

For myself, back in February unto March, obedience to Him as Lord was enacted by way of listening to Him when He bid me wait in regard to specific designs I wanted to enact in my life. I wanted to start a new career, albeit one which wouldn't conflict so deeply with my walk of faith, but still...to start a new career. I had plans, still, in other words. And, in addition, I knew a need to find a new place of residence. Outside of the realm wherein alcohol was an accepted course, even if not one which was pressed upon me--still, it was an ongoing reality in surrounding circumstances. Just to know that it was a daily walk for those who were thereabouts was too much.

And I knew the need to get away from it, entirely, as an ongoing temptation just per the overarching regard for drunkenness as an acceptable, if not desirable, state of being. Not acceptable, no, but tolerable...unto a prayer for deliverance, but still tolerating the course.

It was just more than I could bear to be under, given my prior propensity for giving into the temptation of drunkenness as a course for temporarily escaping stressors. As a means for temporarily alleviating the pains of living. As a palliative, rather than a cure.

I wanted it gone, and didn't know how. No idea how. Even thought, still, that perhaps a glass of wine periodically wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps a night of karaoke in a bar, without drinking, would be acceptable and a proper course.

Again, all this is only of my own experience. I can't say what would be right or wrong for someone else. But I have come to find that alcohol is just something which can't be a part of surroundings.
I had to give it up, entirely. To surrender it. And to surrender all desire to go amongst others so indulging or tolerating, even for the sake of sharing the Gospel by my own designs.

Every time I'd tried to go out, not drinking, but just talking of Christ in that atmosphere...it ended up leading me into a dark place. Maybe because there was too much which had held me captive, there. I don't know.

All I do know is that I had to give it up. And start to just listen to what He wanted me to do. Rather than continuing to make plans.

And it was on my heart that the drinking had to go. Again--I had no idea how. Nothing I did, no move I made, no plan I'd conceived, no therapy nor medication ever taken...nothing I'd ever tried had worked. So, I gave up. And just gave it to Him. Knowing full well that I just couldn't do it, I gave it to Him...giving up the effort, knowing the need for help.

That was in the midst of accepting the need to get out of then-present residence. Nothing I'd ever said or done had changed anything for the better, although circumstances had certainly enabled me to become worse and worse. And it was time to get out.

So, I'd been making plans for that. Finances were wholly set to pay up another apartment for a year in advance, so it wasn't an issue. Two new part-time jobs had been accepted to take the place of the one full-time position, and it was just a matter of God making a way, showing me where to go. I kept looking at apartments, praying over where to go, and kept getting the very clear impression that I needed to just wait.

End of March, I went back to church with intent. This, after dying hair back to a "normal" color--I'd let the fact of having been hot pink for a couple months serve as an excuse from entering the church, fearing they would treat me with disdain. Even knowing the need to go, I had stayed away for fear of being turned out...or just being snubbed.

Whether they actually would have, I'll never know.

Going back to church, though, ended up in lunch with a woman I'd spent some time with before the winter hiatus which resulted in hospitalization and incapacitation. She ended up expressing a need for a roommate, and I, the need for a room.

Meeting up with her, end of the week a couple weeks later...I told her of the things which had been going on. She became adamant of the need to get into a different living arrangement, for the severity of certain matters which need not be disclosed. To the extent that it was decided to just go and get necessities. She'd already received a check for deposit and first month on the apartment we were supposed to move into at the beginning of May--I gave it to her, in good faith, upon culmination of our previous conversation.

And, there, on the first weekend of April...new residence. Acknowledged as temporary, but new.
With prayer in the morning and Bible discussion at random. And, still, as the weeks progressed and no change toward a room of my own came, I began to worry. Every time, there was a check against it--"wait." Just wait.

Wait and pray.

Alcohol just disappeared off the map, along the course of it all. No longer either desired or tolerable, by the grace of God. Despite that I tried a couple of times to go out...it just wasn't within me, so to do, and I left confused and repentant. Not to return, unless the day comes where the Lord has someone with whom to witness as to so venture alongside.

But I don't pray for that. I just pray for His will to be done.

Part of the all, around that time, was deactivating Facebook. So many people from so many dark stages in my life, and I love them all, but to continually be in the midst without being able to explain the change taking place in my life...? I couldn't do it. Even after a trip to go see a friend in Key West, prior to further surrendering unto repentance in mid-February...I had to just cut off communication.

It was too much and served as too much a temptation to fall back into those lines of destructive thought which had held me captive. As when I'd thought, for the longest time, that the way to heaven and fellowship with God was through nature. As when I'd thought, for the longest time, that the way to "enlightenment" was through suffering unto being cleansed of the world's controlling messages. As to when I'd thought, for the longest time, that mere epiphany of knowledge was sufficient to lead into understanding of all which is. As to when I'd though, for the longest time, that loving and fellowshipping unto a true and vital connection with everyone around me was sufficient to save them from their ills and to deliver me from my own.

All those ultimately destructive and distracting lines of thought pursued for years, and so many others even, were just rampant as bonds which yet existed for me, there. A place for consideration and for extrapolation of thought, in some ways, as have been a handful of other places.

I had to surrender those relationships. Completely. Leaving the only opening for communication to be that they would reach out to me in other ways, rather than for me to meet them there...if they so chose.

Same was for all, at that point. Even unto the roommate, in ways.
The only thing which could be spoken of was the Bible, otherwise things tended badly and I wandered closer and closer to despair. So, it got to the point where the only thing I was willing to talk about was the Bible. Otherwise, just not to speak, instead to dwell on the Lord in thought.

Or to speak in ways which gave Him glory, regardless of whether the other party wholly realized the breadth of the message...as it was. This has been the way things have so progressed, as to reach this point.

So, I tend to not speak very much. Unless there's an opening given and the Lord allows to breach the silence, in such a way. But it's such a fear to speak things which aren't profitable to Him. It's such a fear, now, to put anything out there which doesn't give Him glory.

Because He's worthy of all glory.
And...listening to Paris Reidhead's account on Awakening now, as he spoke of the drunkard which Jonathan Edwards wrote of...it was me. I fell through a railing. It broke my neck, falling from the second story. I died. December 16, 2006.
Even as I wasn't that man, his story was just as much mine. Except that there hadn't been a dream. And I was spared, given surrender over the course of the fall.

Still, to have died and been spared. To have broken my neck and fractured my skull in such a way...damaging nearly every segment of my brain, in the process? According to medical science, I'm dead. And unable to think. Unable to speak. Unable to process words, at all. According to what happened to my brain.

So, it's wholly by the grace of God that I can do any of these things. Evermore, daily and moment to moment then, it's increasingly a concern that everything which I do is to His glory and in His perfect will--because the very breath I breathe, the very thoughts which I think, every bit of anything which is in and of my present existence...is so wholly and notably a result and made possible through His miraculous grace.

He bought me...redeemed me...at a higher price than has ever been or will ever be paid, through Jesus' crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. And, to have had that message more personally driven home, through having been awoken from death so many times--even as that one in 2006 was the most notably drastic? Yeah, my life and everything in and of it is His. Because I'm living on His time. I'm only alive because of His mercy upon me, while I was yet a sinner.

Literally.

I'd be dead, many times over, if it weren't for His continual deliverance, if it weren't for the fact of his grace and new mercies. Every day, even. Because I increasingly am led to believe that there are so many things which He continually shields us from, each of us...which would utterly destroy us beyond our ability to imagine. Except that He holds them back and shields us. Even as there are so many things which are so completely heart-rending and seemingly soul-crushing which do occur...there are so many things which He stops. And we have absolutely no awareness of it, most of the time.

Same as with the Israelites in the desert, whose clothing nor shoes wore out for 40 years of wandering, who received manna, and yet who began still to fear for themselves enough as to complain to Moses to return to slavery.

Just like they had so little awareness of how great the mercies of the Lord God were, upon them daily...as to how quickly they forgot even the most miraculous...his mercies were made new, daily...and they still were able to take it for granted as to not even be grateful for the things they DID see, let alone for the things which they weren't aware of as provision...

...we're all just like that, in so many ways.

How many times might a bridge have collapsed, or a car have clipped us, or a screw loose from an overflying jet have killed us? And we have no awareness of those near hits, which God has so mercifully restricted from touching us.

So, as I've spent more and more time alone with Him, these past many months...it just comes increasingly to awareness, becoming more real--each of those instances in which I DID taste of death and yet was awakened is only a small representation of all the many more times which death sought to grasp me and was held totally at bay. By His will.

The thought strikes me with awe, and no small amount of reverential fear for how great is the Lord. That He IS Totally in control.

And it makes me want to give Him all the glory for any which has happened, as to so be saved and delivered and kept whole...and transformed and renewed, daily.

One thing I have struggled with has been patience with complaints. It's been a difficulty for me to see beyond the complaints as to love the one complaining and try to express His love in whatever way is permitted and desirable as so to overwhelm affliction.

In those moments, it's been better to just remain silent and pray. Rather than to say something completely out of line. Which...still happens sometimes, even as it's a work in progress.

I saw today...for a moment, while out driving...how different things are now from even a few decades ago, all over again. Love has grown cold, in so many ways. In so many places.
Where once a thriving community of neighbors interacted freely with one another, in love, now walls mostly invisible have been erected.

Where once people would stop to talk, seeing one another outside and out and about, now attempt at even making eye contact arouses suspicion. Except amongst very few, who still share heartily in whatever greeting can be shared.

There are still those who are so separated from the world as not to have wholly fallen prey into its clutches. Even as the prevalence of news media yet seeks to drive fear into even their gentle hearts, so to lodge fear in...to drive out love. But, no. The Lord provides and He is our refuge. And for those who know Him, truly, as their tower of refuge--no assault will find purchase.

It's only by grace. Merciful Lord.

His grace abounds.

Love shed abroad in the hearts of His own.

Obedience has been so vital, for me. I've struggled with it more than with anything.
But having Him as Lord does mean that one is obedient to His personal will for your life.
Whatever that ends up being, really--it's distinct for each of us.

I used to do everything wrong, thinking that since I couldn't do things right, I may as well try to excel in the other direction. Terrible. Then, when that was repented of, I sought to do as much good as possible...regardless of whether it was His will for me to do the things, just to do good.
Still disobedience. Terrible. And I repent for it, still, as the temptation still sometimes is succumbed to. Because there are so many people seeking to serve the Lord, each with their own particular agenda or delineation of direction...they urge others to follow suit, alongside. To partner in action. Or in funds. Or in whatever way is felt as a need.

And it's so difficult not to give into that pressure. Peer pressure to perform for the Lord.

But it's still disobedience, unless the Lord's call coincides and overrides those so directing unto action.

I did that sort of disobedience for a while. Just doing anything, regardless of whether it was the Lord's will for me--figuring that, so long as it serves his kingdom, there must be a sort of free-for-all as obedience goes. Ended up wearing myself out and creating problems at home. The whole desire to be part of the local mission I wrote about a few nights ago? yeah. I wanted to. I did everything I could, so to do. Even disobeying my parents.

So, really...maybe not everybody goes to that sort of an extreme. But, when I do what is the Lord's will, there's energy. There's peace. There's love. There's strength to carry on, regardless of what's going on with my body or with anyone around me. And I'm not exhausted by the effort, at the end, but feel renewed in spirit.

As opposed to creating problems.

Just...these days, there is such a great need for the Gospel to be spread. Hearts have grown cold, demons have active ministry in churches, neighborhoods are more like guard posts than communities.

If we're serving man before the Lord, though, what hope have we that He'll deliver us? We all need Him so very desperately. With a desperation that defies expression.

But how can we call Him Lord if we don't obey His commandments? Obedience is vital. Loving Him with everything within us is obedience. Loving others as ourselves, second to our love for Him, is secondary but just as required.

Love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. With everything. Love Him. Loving Him so yields a love for others which exceeds love for self.

But Love Him, above all else. Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. First. Not after the 401(k) has been rolled over. Not after conversion to a Roth IRA. Not after the insurance check has come through, nor after retirement has been filed. Not after mom's funeral was complete, nor after my sister's deliverance was provided.

Love Him FIRST.
And love others before yourself. Prefer them. Serve them.
Even as it's only possible through empowerment of the Holy Spirit (so for me, at least)...turn the other cheek, when they offend or strike...whether with words or with fists.
Let them take another blow after blow and exhaust their anger, so to be able to witness His love.

He, alone, can deliver us all. He, alone, is the way to salvation. Jesus, alone, is our Savior. And to be our Lord, forever.

The call is come, the work is arduous, and the need is great.
His yoke is easy and His burden is light.
That we should carry our crosses daily.
As so to have the kingdom come, His will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

We must surrender to Him daily. Pride and self-sufficiency have no place in our ranks.
We must humble ourselves before Him, in repentance for ever having conceived such high treason as attempted self-sufficiency.
He is all, in all.
His will is above all.
His glory is above all.
He is worthy of all honor and all praise, and by His grace and mercy alone are we even alive so to serve Him, so to minister to Him in all ways upon this earth.
That we might minister to others, as so directed and yielded to His will.

Not to self. Never to self.
He is our shepherd.

As we seek Him, He provides our needs. His grace is ever sufficient to our every need.

How many are there, lost and afraid? ...how many, lost and angry? ...lost and hurting?
...blind and raging? ...mute and terrified?

How many are there, yet to be awakened?

By His will, all things.
May we evermore experience a deeper revelation of Christ's majesty, glory, and His humble sacrifice, so to save and realign our eyes upon Him, unto further and deeper repentance and renewal of the Holy Spirit. Our deliverer, our Savior...who defeated death and made a mockery of Satan's works, destroying them upon the earth...by force of His awesome sacrifice and mighty resurrection power. Glory to Father God, in the Highest! May all His saints arise!

Letting Go

Psalms and Matthew, today. And numerous sermon snippets, and a couple in-full.

Nothing to say, ever, which hasn't already been said. That's the way, as it's been.

The temptation to get caught up in semantics is always so vast, when it comes to discussing faith with people. I spent so many years caught up in that trap. So many years absolutely fascinated with means and methods of interpretation, and of how great a divide connotational comprehension always yields--just per way of the unique socialization experiences which each person partakes in, by varied situational constructs in effect over the course of life.

My attention was so utterly fixated on that divide for very specific reasons.

How, after all, do you effectively communicate with someone, if the very words being used convey variations in meaning between each, as to vary interpretation?

How does a person so adequately take these vast divides into account with any sufficiency as to ensure complete translation of the intended message with its truly intended connotational impact, as per syntax, tone, cadence, and all at one's disposal?

Each does have a significant impact upon interpretation. So, how to wholly and adequately take that other person's *pre-existing context for interpretation* (*ahem: perspective) into account as to convey fullness of meaning?

Over course of a conversation with someone, well over a year ago, I was simultaneously completely taken aback and utterly enthused by the realization that the vital point upon which any spiritual discussion hangs is so variably colored by their utter differences in conception of what "religion" means. To the extent that the connotational meanings which hang upon the very terms vary widely from person to person. I was utterly stricken by the realization that those connotational meanings were so very widely varied as to devastate potential for conversation along those lines, in instance, by invoking innate prejudices per mere mention of the terms.

It was roundabouts that point which I fell into a state of discouragement, even having come to a point of realization of a vital necessity for ongoing consideration, as to fulfill the then-present goal of being able to fully understand communication to an extent which allowed for true freedom in expression of intent, regardless the audience or party involved.

Months prior, I'd had the experience of witnessing two friends communicate very poorly. They both spoke fluent English and both had benevolent intentions in attempting to speak with one another. And neither said anything out of the way to one another, but their manner of speaking and interpretation was so vastly divided that, regardless that they were technically speaking the same language, they weren't at all. I intervened before it came to blows. And mediated for a few minutes.
Came to find out they both spoke Russian.

They communicated with one another very easily and readily and congenially in Russian, for quite a little while, even to the point of hugging and calling one another brother.

But the minute they switched back to English, they near came to blows again (literally--they were getting up from their seats, to "take it outside").

All because of vast differences in their manner of speech. Because of vast differences in their connotational understandings.

I understood the entire exchange as it went in English, so know as an objective observer that nothing with any overt offense was said. But their very words were cumulatively offensive, just because of the connotation which each separately had, as to comprehensive tone.

And no intent for offense was even nearly intended. None, whatsoever. I know--I acted as interpreter for a couple minutes, with each of them confirming my interpretation (of their English, mind you), to the other.

Ultimately, I told them they should speak to one another in Russian and give up on trying in English. Because there was no ill will on either side, but they just couldn't communicate adequately in English. They chose just not to speak to one another, instead.

Both had English as their primary language. Just, they were each from such different backgrounds and such differing perspectives of the world that they couldn't communicate at all. One was a lawyer, the other a biker fresh out of jail (edit*remembered I'd mentioned the latter fellow before, so wanted to note as much--he's the same one who called me crazy the morning I told him of my decision to get a degree in psychology to bartend and be able to better help people...was when I was bartending at what was once one of the worst bars in the French Quarter, dude was my bouncer--I still pray for him, he was always so very nice). And they'd met many times before, hung out many times before, and always came to argument...just per course of attempting to communicate.

Semantics.

That was such a strange few hours. Most are, in one way or another--praise the Lord! =)

Those sorts of things no longer consume me, by the grace of God. I can still look back on them in reference, though, when it comes to witnessing the same things trying to capture my brothers and sisters.

The difference, though, is one which...well, let's see.

Things with church have been strange for the past while. I started adamantly insisting upon receiving the Word in church on a multi-weekly basis, in April. It enlivened, to be able to soak up interpretations of the scripture. It was increasingly alive for me in a way I'd never experienced before, for the past couple years, really...but something changed even more fully, this spring.

And, to begin with, at the beginning of April/end of March, it was just a matter of being able to take in the sermon. It was just a matter of hearing scripture and hearing exegesis, having it all explained to me. Then, when that wasn't enough...just to go twice a week...there was a second church.

And it was the same, there. Worship was wholly new, wholly real, and the sermons were alive in both churches at both the places in Tampa.

There were points, still, which were longed for in addition to what was already there. But, such gratitude for receiving at all, as to such good!

Then, in May, when the call to return to WV/VA came, I was glad to know I'd be able to return to the one church. Part of moving involved moving family from Louisiana, too, and finding them a church.
So, two churches.

And the pastor's wife at one church in Tampa instructed me to find a likewise small group to attend, as had been done outside of church service at theirs.
So, three churches, because the particular group isn't held at many local churches.

The first two churches are Sunday, all day, including a small group before service. Each of those two has mid-week service of differing days, too. The third church has the mid-week group on yet another day.

In each, though, prayerfully attended...if something sets off a flag, I ask why, and it's explained. I don't always like the explanation or even fully know what to make of it. But, still.

Along the course, there've been a few other churches which caught attention in one way or another. And, as that sort of inclination has gone, I've followed. Into places I didn't want to go, even.

Some of which I'd like to go back to, if it's ever possible.
But the language is different in varied ways, in each. The tone differs, in concord with their differing relationships with the Lord.

And, same as there are things which I'm sure to still be off-key on, there are wrong notes struck time to time in each. Prayerfully attended, then so to note, even as explanation follows.

I've talked to two of my pastors about it, thus far.
The initial one told me he wasn't able to sit under wonky teaching, and it just came to me that it was a lesson in itself, to me, and so I told him--it's a matter of hearing what's off, as a flare goes off inside, praying about it, then asking and receiving explanation of what's off. So, I told him it's a lesson in itself, when it goes that way.
The other pastor just told me it was of importance to just be -somewhere- regularly, wherever it was (at which point I just looked confused for a moment, given that it had been possible not to miss a service in over two months at that point)...and told him it was something in which discernment was being learned, to go to various places.

Which, while it's not something to take lightly by any means--false doctrine is no laughing matter and it's a slippery slope to even come near--it's something I've become increasingly aware of, in part and at times in certain places of all the many visited. The whole bit is very prayerfully regarded and embarked and endured.

And I don't really know why. I really don't have any idea. Whatsoever.
Except to know that there are now four different churches I'm able to attend (by the grace of God, I'm able) on what's become a weekly basis, in addition to one which is "attended to" after the fact online, now.

Plus whichever other random ones end up being ones where there's leading to go.

And I don't know why.

I don't understand why I can't just sit at home and listen to sermons and praise the Lord and read the Bible cover-to-cover, rather than going out and involving in the things elsewhere.

Which, don't get me wrong on that--I'm not truly questioning it. If it's the Lord's will, which I pray continually about, then so be it and so will it be to continue. Just...I hear certain things from certain places sometimes which DO throw me off balance and into even more ardent prayer and study.

And, no matter where I go, it's not that I can wholeheartedly condone everything either. But, neither is it my place to judge. Only, there's this societal tend toward "guilt by association," and that jumps up sometimes to attempt to trouble.

Of course, on the other side of the spectrum, there's also this doctrinal tendency toward "innocence by association," too...which is just as wonky. Salvation is the ONLY way, and it's not by "association" but belief in Jesus as Son of God, crucified, risen, and ascended to the Father, as Savior...not "association" but acceptance, unto surrender, repentance, and deliverance. By miraculous work of the Holy Spirit.

For me, back in 2012 (oh, yeah...actually, that was June 2010 after my stolen car was recovered--I keep thinking of the stuff in the following paragraph in terms of salvation...the following paragraph stuff was in 2012), I prayed "the sinner's prayer," then immediately got caught up in trying to earn salvation. And ended up just giving up, because I couldn't measure up, no matter how hard I tried.
No matter how hard I tried, temptation was just too much. And I gave up.

Then, by the grace of God, through who knows how many people praying for me and through the ongoing interactions with one friend who's now beyond communication, ended up realizing that I couldn't earn salvation. That there was no way I could ever be worthy of it, by my own efforts--no matter what I did, how good I was, or how hard I tried...I couldn't earn salvation (the song "Embracing Accusations" by Shane and Shane, as shared by my friend, factored largely into that revelation...can't listen to it so much anymore, though, oddly enough).

It took two years, after asking Jesus to be my Savior, for me to even begin to accept salvation. Two years.

Two years of still looking in all the wrong directions for love, for fulfillment, for direction, for guidance, for help, and for truth. Two years.

And, even then, only by prayer and randomly interjected "Bible study" (oh, so laced with gnosticism!) with my friend, and the occasional church service which talked about stuff which, of course, wasn't actually talking to me...only by the grace of God, then, did I ever reach a point where revelation came that salvation wasn't by works.

No idea how many times I'd heard that said in church, even. No idea. But I did, then, have the idea that I could somehow help my friends in the bars by continuing to hang out with them, continuing to drink with them, while I continued to more regularly attend church.

How many times did I hear that message directly from the pastor as my first church? ...that "you can't help the people you're going out and being around, if you're doing the same things they're doing." Stated explicitly in those terms, in church. And I felt absolutely no conviction. Or...well, maybe just a twinge of it, at that point, to so remember it. But I do remember - deciding - that he wasn't talking to me, because what I was doing was somehow "different."

Yeah. No.

Either way, I didn't listen still.

And when the opportunity to move to Florida came up from my friend, it seemed the absolute best course. Except that something came up. And then, when that bit was over, something else came up.

First love. Then a career.

Love didn't last. The career was one which I had high ideals for, starting as middle management in a fast-track to success program, with the sky as the limit, retirement benefits, and all the bells and whistles which are so highly lauded by most. Only, my intent even as expressed to hiring managers, was to be able to do good works...to be able to use my position to help the public...the base theme of my interview was that I wanted to do good works.

And I had no idea that in order to maintain the position, I'd be expected to persecute folks without remorse. All in the name of business, of course. Because, after all..."It's only business."
So, it's supposed to be understood.

One brush with pneumonia (without time off--they needed me, of course), a lack of sanity, and a complete mental breakdown later...it was over. There was no way I could maintain 50-60 hours a week, breathing down folks' necks over trivial matters, running everywhere and unable to stop except to go outside to smoke (pray+read Bible, as it went)...and, no.

It was a running joke amongst corporate-level management that drinking was a run-of-the-mill go-to for anyone who managed on any level within the company, too. And that joke was no lie. Few and far between were those who didn't. Given a pre-existing tendency? Yeah.

The ONLY thing that even got me through six months of the ordeal, though, was delving further into church and grasping onto whatever bits of the Bible I could cling to in what moments alone were possible throughout the day.

To the point that, when I completely fell apart in May 2013, rather than going to the hospital...I went to my dad's, slept and read books inspired by the Bible, and started reading the Bible in even more earnest.

Moving to Florida was still a potential at that point, given circumstances of another friend there, and it was back on the agenda--just to get away from the trauma of the job and from the influences I'd surrounded myself with. I got a call about a tragedy in Louisiana, and collected bare necessities for the move...went to FL with a rent check, then immediately to LA.

For a visit which I don't even remember, so troubled was my mind.

Then, when back in Tampa, job hunt. And I remember driving down from the apartment one day, thinking again about the job that had just nearly destroyed me in so many ways, yet missing the prestige and the "security." And I asked God to have a job like that again, where there would be prestige and security and money and a clear path to career success.

I don't remember whether it was the same day or the next day that I got a call about a job interview. One which I hadn't applied for. They found my resume.

It was another management job. Salaried. With fewer work hours required. 

And I went for the interview and ended up with the job.

Started going to church, in the midst of that work again. Started going back to the same things--had to go outside and pray, read the Bible, using smoking as an excuse to do so...just to make it through the day.

And went to the hospital on January 1, rather than doing the things which had completely taken over thoughts.

Initially, I'd thought I'd be moving into a "dry" house, too. But it turned out not. So, that was an ongoing factor, as well. Being around something which was such a habit and crutch? ...when things got rough, it was pretty much a given, as to be anywhere near it. Complicated matters, for sure, in so many ways. Even as the core of the problem was just that I still had been doing things "my way."

Jesus was my Savior at that point, but He wasn't my Lord, in other words.

I prayed, I went to church, I read the Bible and clung to it for life...just to make it through the day.

But, when it came down to what my life was and where I went and who I talked with and what I talked about?

He was a second thought, if that. And that's a travesty.

Especially considering I was still, through all that, looking anywhere except to Him--first and foremost, craving love.

He loves me more than anyone ever has or ever will, even as it's impossible to know the extents beyond being able to know His sacrifice and the wonder of His presence. And I just kept shutting Him out, even though I took such joy in His presence at church and in those moments when it was possible to "have church" with either my roommate or my sister.

*sigh*

Yeah, still I refused to just talk to Him, through all that. I'd pray for strength, pray for obedience, pray for discernment, and pray for the ability to hear His voice better...all year, for those things, and for direction.

And, even praying for those things, I was still doing "my own thing." I didn't know any better. I'd heard people talk about having Him as Lord, but when everybody's driving Mercedes and living in mansions, or ASPIRING to those things above anything...it just made it seem as though all it meant to have Him as Lord was to go to church and to pray and read the Bible, and He'd just miracle the rest out to us.

So, I thought He WAS Lord of my life. By the standards of everything I was seeing, and according to what all I was hearing, I seemed to be tracking at least on the same path as everyone else...and they called Jesus Lord.

It didn't hit me, whatsoever, until I was laying in the floor not long after being released from the hospital, incapacitated by simultaneous bronchitis and back trouble sufficient as to make walking impossible...just laying there, looking up at the ceiling. All alone. Between absolutely excruciating trips to the further reaches of the apartment--few as was possible, for certain. Just laying there.

Unable to do anything, and wondering how to even get out of the apartment, should the need arise...given that it was third floor, stairs-access only, and I couldn't even get to the door. Realizing that I couldn't. That the only thing I could do was just give up and give in to the fact that there was nothing I could do except lay there, and just take it a moment at a time and hope for healing.

And hope for sleep. And pray.

There was something that came then, though, when I was fully conscious and far enough out of the throes of the fever to be lucid...realizing that there was absolutely nothing I could do. Nothing but wait.

Because I wasn't going to the hospital. I'd just had to quit the job, rather than end up back in the hospital (panic attack just at the thought of going inside the building, yeah). Wasn't going to the hospital. So, the only other thing was to wait.

And, even healing wasn't ensured. I knew that there was possibility that it might not come, depending upon what had happened with my back...it might be permanent, that time, was the thought. 

That was a sobering thought to come to terms with.

I just couldn't remember a time when it had been so bad, before, that I couldn't even hobble...at all. Just couldn't walk.

Barely could crawl, only carefully.

Just to lay there, on the floor, because it was too painful to try to get out of the floor. Or back into the floor.

All else was ensured torture. And there was no conceivable way of navigating stairs, given the pain entailed in even attempting to sit up. 

So, yeah--just laying there. Food wasn't really a concern, because it was best not to be concerned. I don't recall how water came into the equation, or whether it did.

But that second day, unable to walk, just something in me broke. I gave up. But, not just gave up. I gave it to God. Something in me snapped, and I just absolutely realized that there was absolutely no control on my end, but that He is in control. I gave up attempted control. And just...surrendered to His will, whatever it might be. 

And there was peace there, finally. Even in the pain. In the midst of the uncertainty. Because, yeah--not being able to walk means that there are a LOT of things about life that you sorta have to reassess, as far as how you'd even begin to go about them. In terms of being unable to descend stairs, as to enter society, getting another job seemed just next to learning to fly, in terms of being conceivable in terms which made sense. I had a lot of despair over those things as they flew through my mind, that first day and many hours. Because, no matter what I came up with, there was something--primarily being unable to GET to the stairs, let alone descend them...which was a kink in the plan for how I was to be able to proceed in life without the ability to walk.

If you can't even leave the room you're in, that kind of stifles the ability to realistically plan for else, yeah. 

So, I accepted defeat. Nothing I could do. Nothing.

I couldn't plan my way out of it, with certainty.

Because I didn't even know whether or not I'd again be able to walk. 

And that...yeah. Humbling.

I had to surrender to Him, then. Because I knew He already knew all the things. 

I was just trying to prove my self-sufficiency.

Because everybody's self-sufficient, you know?

Everybody has a job. Everybody pays bills. Everybody has an apartment or a house.

Everybody has a family. Everybody tries to do well for themselves.

And I was dead-set on conforming, to making the mark. So my parents would be proud of me. So I would feel as though I was accomplishing something. So I would be successful, and cross all the t's and dot all the i's like I was supposed to.

But, yeah. Laying there, incapacitated, kinda' changed my perspective a bit. 

He's in control. I'm not.

And it's SOOOOOOO much better that way.

Once I accepted that He was in control, I had peace.

Stopped worrying about whether I'd be able to walk. 

Stopped worrying about what I'd do for work, whether I could walk or not.

Stopped worrying.

Because He would make a way.

The next day, the pain was soooo diminished. Still there, but I could walk again.

Still had to go slow. But, much with hot water and continuing to know that God was in control.

And thanking Him for it.

It still took another month, thereafter, to get to the point where I was ardently pursuing the Word with everything in me. But...I'd started listening to Him in my personal time, by that point, already.

Having acknowledged that He was in control, and I was not.

Then, things started to change.

For the better.

In all things. Without ceasing.

Primarily Psalms, today.

And Matthew.

And Revelations.

And Isaiah 54 and 13.

Turns out, dad preached on Matthew 24, today. In terms of how it's being fulfilled even as we speak, and of how time is running out for those who haven't received salvation. And for those who haven't truly received it.

Lots of time speaking with him, these past couple months about the apostasy epidemic within the church, at large. Curious as to how that ended up factoring into his message. Or whether it did.

It's a scary though, for sure--to think your salvation assured, then to come to meet Jesus and find out He never knew you...to only then come to terms with the fact that you never actually had a relationship with the one you pronounced as your Savior.

Only by the grace of God has anything as such become even remotely clear, to me. With all as much as I'd muddled through before--all the world's religions, search for such truth which is only in Jesus.

Funny, in a very scary way, that I'd even called out to Him and spoken to Him in my youth and He'd responded, and still somehow I'd walked away in fear of the world, in fear of the church, and walked straight into chaos.

Because it was the church I ran from. It was the persecution experienced in church which scared me to the point of forsaking the all--what a travesty!

On my part and on theirs.

I experienced the Holy Spirit within the confines of a church which didn't believe in such things, and they literally put me out on the sidewalk. It was devastating and made me think that I was somehow an absolutely terrible person for experiencing something which they didn't believe in. Granted, this was after my parents had taking me along on a charter bus to one of Benny Hinn's services, early 1990s. And what was experienced there was good, and pure, and holy, and fulfilling beyond my wildest imaginings of what peace and hope and love could be. It was everything I'd ever wanted, and even without really understanding what was experienced, I clung to it...to the presence of the Holy Spirit...with everything in me.

Then to return to a Methodist church and be stricken with such an abandon to worship the Lord, and to praise for the presence of the Lord, unto tears. And unto a dire need to pray for someone who wasn't present. And they put me out on the sidewalk.

So, there I was on the sidewalk, sobbing for the salvation of someone who wasn't anywhere thereabouts--begging them all that we should pray. And everyone just looking at me as though I was anathema. Refusing to come near me.

Up to that point, I'd so wanted to help with the mission which had set up a house in my neighborhood, too. I loved doing the work. Whatever the work was, just to help. Just to help build or do for someone who needed, as to be a part of something so constructive and surrounded by folks who professed Jesus as Lord and who were open-hearted and kind and gentle and who didn't treat me as though I was a freak of nature. People who didn't call me weird.

People who just cared and seemed to be completely okay with me being around, regardless of whether they actively wanted me there. They welcomed me, always.

And the fellow in charge would take a moment to talk with me, whenever I would slink by...watching and longing to be a part of something. He invited me in and told me I was welcome anytime.

Dave. And I keep thinking his last name was Thomas, but that can't be right.

Either way. I got to work with them one partial weekend as part of a "mission trip" organized by the youth group at the Methodist church. Work and worship, all weekend. It was phenomenal.
During that weekend we went to another Methodist church for a stopover between work-sites. And we sang hymns.

We sang "Here I Am Lord"--the first time I'd ever seen or heard that song, and it stands as the first song I'd ever put my heart into completely, meaning it with every fiber. Such that, having only experienced that song the once, over the course of all subsequent years, whenever I'd find myself alone for extended periods--traveling alone between WV and FL, between FL and New Orleans, between New Orleans and NY, and so on, I'd end up singing it out at the top of my lungs late into the drive--the first verse and the chorus. Those words and the meaning which they held for me have always stayed in my heart, even if not in my mind.

And I have no idea what that means, or whether it even means anything. But it seems significant, to me. And I know it was grace, either way.

The second time I'd ever heard it in church was when I sang it before the congregation at my dad's church, in 2012. Not long after openly rededicating my life to the Lord.

And it came back to me again, a few months ago, to find the song in entirety. It was in the hymnal at the Methodist church whose program I attend on Tuesdays. I photographed it, as to always have on hand.

It just bothers me so much, to know that I could have that song in my heart and still have done all the things I did. But I suppose that's where the refrain of Amazing Grace truly comes in. As well as the third verse.

Either way, praise the Lord for His faithfulness, and for His grace and mercy, and His love which never fails. =)

Today, I received healing of the pain which troubled. Over course of a testimony, actually, without even being aware of being healed until afterwards. I'd had a couple of people lay hands and pray over the course of the day--the latter of which told me to confess the healing to others.
During course of the conversation during which deliverance occurred, though, I was prompted to share the verse which reads roundabouts, "We shall overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony."

That's the second time that verse has come to mind in terms of recent events of deliverance.
The first was after the first testimony I'd been led to give in a public forum on G+, a couple/few weeks ago.
...deliverance occurred after the fact of having given testimony, without even thinking of the two with any connection. Then the verse came to mind.

And again, today, now.
Because it's taking some time to get rid of some stuff, even as I'm ardently pursuing. I don't know what to do, except to continue to follow the prompting of the Holy Spirit. He guides and directs. And heals.

And delivers.

And I still don't understand quite how it all works, but don't entirely believe it's necessary to understand so much as to believe.

But, yeah--the pain has gone.
=)
Praise the Lord!