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!