Two things.
Counting the cost, as a constant.
And...oh, goodness, what was the other?
Yeah, the testimony-thing.
Of the latter, there have been a couple of instances where migraines have disappeared in the midst of speaking with others about the Lord (very passionately, entirely caught up in what was being shared). Day-long, then just gone. And no jitters. Just calm.
Peace. And anxiety set at bay. Thoughts calmed substantially.
To speak of Jesus and of truth is to be freed from whatever is ailing, frequently. And lacking on that front--having gone long without sharing of him with someone, many ones...also has been bad. Spoke of him thrice on Friday, witnessing and just sharing the truth of his Word. Testifying to the truth.
And twice more today.
And still feeling as though there's a lack on that front.
Which...I will keep praying about. Rushing in doesn't bode well for sanity, either. Same as not going at all.
No one would go with me, from the previous church. I was invited, once, to go out with others to share the gospel. But it was retracted before the appointed time for meeting--made contingent upon enlisting another female to go with. Which...none would. Ever.
Need go, though. The blog/s and now, also, Facebook...will be a thing, of sorts--a venue, of sorts. But it's not quite the same as being face to face with someone. Which...my job is very odd, in that regard.
I had forgotten again, though, how much my wellness has seemed to depend upon speaking of Him with others. It makes no sense, but it's as though I've stopped eating or breathing deeply, if there's no ongoing sharing on the gospel and witness of Christ. Same as of ceasing to read the Word.
He could totally use other things to similarly sustain me. He has. I think. Maybe. Well, anyway, He could. But I'd much rather share the gospel and speak of Jesus and give testimony than watercolor or bake. If I could do all the above (which, the mod podge art on Friday was sharing the gospel while doing the art...so it was much more fulfilling--same as will be the case, Thursday, Lord willing).
So that is and will apparently be a thing, regardless. And He has to lead, or it's a mess.
And, of the first thing:
It's all in his hands. Over course of my life, I've asked him for a lot of things.
He knows what's best. And of the course which has seemed so very certain, since beginning to walk with Him, intentionally...
...whatever he wills. Whatever he gives is ultimately good, even being excruciating over process.
Just...I am nothing. I have nothing. Or, worse, really--I am worse than nothing for being wretched enough to act against him, ever. So, whatever he wills. I can't earn his favor, but out of love and devotion it is my prerogative to pursue his will to the best of my any-given ability. Because he is good. And his will is good. And mine isn't.
My will is corrupted by sin. And I would rather forsake it, abandon it, neglect it to the extent possible, in favor of seeking what he would give and lead unto. Just...he does give good gifts, too. And he keeps reminding that he places the lonely in families.
I'm not worthy his regard nor anyone else's. And am not very capable of interacting well or reasonably, still. Much to bear with, even to have a "normal" conversation...and then the emotional maelstrom, resulting, to weather...as fears, forgotten pains, and deep wounds are brought to fore.
I have entrusted myself to his care, though. He wounds to heal. He exposes the deeper wounds, moreover, to tend and bind them properly. So they will and can heal. Even per the warmth of his love.
Part of pursuing him has been continually counting the cost, though. Even of good gifts, like a strangely ordered job where sharing of the Lord is by a technical aspect, kind of part of my work responsibility. Very strangely. I'm supposed to share with others how I've recovered from and am coping with my diagnosed severe mental illness--the kind that had me in and out of hospitals regularly...the kind which entailed numerous suicide attempts...and a lifestyle which constantly courted death.
Jesus is my recovery. Staying near to him. For the past month, there's been one who's asked me about medicines I'm on: Church, Scripture, praise, fellowship, witnessing, evangelizing, testifying of truth. Constantly thinking of him.
And that's literal, not being glib. Bit by bit, I fall to pieces when those things cease being regular.
So, part of the cost is forsaking amusements which distract me from him. Being in the company of those who also love him and lift him high in thoughts, constantly, somehow makes it acceptable and non-destructive to engage in what otherwise has been very detrimental to my stability. I don't have to understand. I just need to follow.
So part of the cost has been also gradually forsaking my compulsion to know the reason for every single thing. Sometimes the answer is "because," and that has to be enough. And I have to accept it gladly and well, rejoicing still.
Even when what's being accepted is suffering.
Becoming more dependent on him has been good, though. Continually.
But pursuit of him has meant needing to be constantly willing to release all things into his care, beyond my reach. Holding only very loosely to anything, in order to hold most tightly to him. Because my grasp tends to tighten too quickly and to the exclusion of him, otherwise. Which...is very bad, for all the above reasons regarding wellness and stability.
Counting the cost, as a constant.
And...oh, goodness, what was the other?
Yeah, the testimony-thing.
Of the latter, there have been a couple of instances where migraines have disappeared in the midst of speaking with others about the Lord (very passionately, entirely caught up in what was being shared). Day-long, then just gone. And no jitters. Just calm.
Peace. And anxiety set at bay. Thoughts calmed substantially.
To speak of Jesus and of truth is to be freed from whatever is ailing, frequently. And lacking on that front--having gone long without sharing of him with someone, many ones...also has been bad. Spoke of him thrice on Friday, witnessing and just sharing the truth of his Word. Testifying to the truth.
And twice more today.
And still feeling as though there's a lack on that front.
Which...I will keep praying about. Rushing in doesn't bode well for sanity, either. Same as not going at all.
No one would go with me, from the previous church. I was invited, once, to go out with others to share the gospel. But it was retracted before the appointed time for meeting--made contingent upon enlisting another female to go with. Which...none would. Ever.
Need go, though. The blog/s and now, also, Facebook...will be a thing, of sorts--a venue, of sorts. But it's not quite the same as being face to face with someone. Which...my job is very odd, in that regard.
I had forgotten again, though, how much my wellness has seemed to depend upon speaking of Him with others. It makes no sense, but it's as though I've stopped eating or breathing deeply, if there's no ongoing sharing on the gospel and witness of Christ. Same as of ceasing to read the Word.
He could totally use other things to similarly sustain me. He has. I think. Maybe. Well, anyway, He could. But I'd much rather share the gospel and speak of Jesus and give testimony than watercolor or bake. If I could do all the above (which, the mod podge art on Friday was sharing the gospel while doing the art...so it was much more fulfilling--same as will be the case, Thursday, Lord willing).
So that is and will apparently be a thing, regardless. And He has to lead, or it's a mess.
And, of the first thing:
It's all in his hands. Over course of my life, I've asked him for a lot of things.
He knows what's best. And of the course which has seemed so very certain, since beginning to walk with Him, intentionally...
...whatever he wills. Whatever he gives is ultimately good, even being excruciating over process.
Just...I am nothing. I have nothing. Or, worse, really--I am worse than nothing for being wretched enough to act against him, ever. So, whatever he wills. I can't earn his favor, but out of love and devotion it is my prerogative to pursue his will to the best of my any-given ability. Because he is good. And his will is good. And mine isn't.
My will is corrupted by sin. And I would rather forsake it, abandon it, neglect it to the extent possible, in favor of seeking what he would give and lead unto. Just...he does give good gifts, too. And he keeps reminding that he places the lonely in families.
I'm not worthy his regard nor anyone else's. And am not very capable of interacting well or reasonably, still. Much to bear with, even to have a "normal" conversation...and then the emotional maelstrom, resulting, to weather...as fears, forgotten pains, and deep wounds are brought to fore.
I have entrusted myself to his care, though. He wounds to heal. He exposes the deeper wounds, moreover, to tend and bind them properly. So they will and can heal. Even per the warmth of his love.
Part of pursuing him has been continually counting the cost, though. Even of good gifts, like a strangely ordered job where sharing of the Lord is by a technical aspect, kind of part of my work responsibility. Very strangely. I'm supposed to share with others how I've recovered from and am coping with my diagnosed severe mental illness--the kind that had me in and out of hospitals regularly...the kind which entailed numerous suicide attempts...and a lifestyle which constantly courted death.
Jesus is my recovery. Staying near to him. For the past month, there's been one who's asked me about medicines I'm on: Church, Scripture, praise, fellowship, witnessing, evangelizing, testifying of truth. Constantly thinking of him.
And that's literal, not being glib. Bit by bit, I fall to pieces when those things cease being regular.
So, part of the cost is forsaking amusements which distract me from him. Being in the company of those who also love him and lift him high in thoughts, constantly, somehow makes it acceptable and non-destructive to engage in what otherwise has been very detrimental to my stability. I don't have to understand. I just need to follow.
So part of the cost has been also gradually forsaking my compulsion to know the reason for every single thing. Sometimes the answer is "because," and that has to be enough. And I have to accept it gladly and well, rejoicing still.
Even when what's being accepted is suffering.
Becoming more dependent on him has been good, though. Continually.
But pursuit of him has meant needing to be constantly willing to release all things into his care, beyond my reach. Holding only very loosely to anything, in order to hold most tightly to him. Because my grasp tends to tighten too quickly and to the exclusion of him, otherwise. Which...is very bad, for all the above reasons regarding wellness and stability.
I'll follow wherever he leads, though. There are things which I would very much like, as a person. But I would have what he would give, whether what I want or not. He knows what's best. And in the meantimes, holding others in particular esteem is all the more opportunity to turn to prayer, seeking the Lord would intervene on their behalf.
If he does intend for me to be devastated, it'll be for my good. As he's ever done, he'll take the shattered fragments of my broken heart, pick out the shards which are poisoned, and piece me back together to a form more like his own. Holding nearer himself, all the while.
That's enough. That...is a blessing.
He will keep me.
If he does intend for me to be devastated, it'll be for my good. As he's ever done, he'll take the shattered fragments of my broken heart, pick out the shards which are poisoned, and piece me back together to a form more like his own. Holding nearer himself, all the while.
That's enough. That...is a blessing.
He will keep me.
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