The healers and the Healer.

This blog is turning into something different than what I first thought it was.  I've already changed the title once, and I am just going to write and see where God takes me.  So please bear with me if it seems rambling.  Right now, at least, this is a musing on being healed and trusting the Healer when you're not.

I was raised in the Assembly of God church, and we believe in healing.  I believed that God could heal anyone anytime from anything.  However, I saw no contradiction between that belief and the fact that my mom, a Godly woman, was seriously ill.

Later, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism.  I figured out that something was not right when I felt the washer shaking and then realized it wasn't on--that was my heart!  I went to the doctor sometime after and was put on medication.  I didn't realize the change that it made until we were riding in the  car, and my son (Val, I think) said, "I like you now, Mommy.  You never are mad any more."  I thought he was joking, but the rest of the family chimed in with sounds of affirmation.  Evidently, this medicine was having an effect on more than my heart.  I looked up symptoms of hypothyroidism:  fatigue, weight gain, dry, brittle nails, joint and muscle pain, and depression.  I had been depressed for how many years? and didn't even realize it.

So, I began taking levothyroxin and was doing quite well until one day I decided to make a change.  My church was getting really heavy into faith healing.  It was suggested that if you were taking medicine, you weren't trusting God.  Well, who was I to distrust God?  I went forward that morning and threw my medicine away that afternoon.

And I started getting mean again.  Angry again.  Tired again.  Depressed again.  Problem was, I didn't seem to recognize it in myself.  My family certainly did, but not me.  It took me a few months to figure it out, but I finally went back to my medicine, and then things returned to normal.  I was kind of confused as to why God chose not to heal me, but I put the thought away.

Later, as many of you know, I gave birth prematurely, at approximately 24 weeks, to a baby boy.  We stayed with him and had to deal with his issues on our own.  My sister and brother weren't available (I honestly don't remember if I ever asked my brother--he might have come if I had), and the relatives that lived nearby had other obligations.  It was the most alone we had ever felt.  One day we were in the waiting room--even parents could only spend short amounts of time with their babies--and I noticed a woman praying.  When she seemed finished, I went to her and said that it was good to see someone else praying.  She told me that I have to have faith that my baby would come out cured.  I couldn't give any thought to the baby being anything but healthy--it would take victory from God and give it to the Devil.  Even if I didn't see any improvement, I had to claim the improvement I didn't see.

That was a strange thing for me to hear.  In the state I was in, I didn't know how to take it.  We were in a constant battle for our baby, and the idea that we should claim health for this child who had so many serious problems that he was considered the sickest baby in intensive care seemed really strange.to me.  Not that I didn't believe God could work any miracle he chose.  You saw it every day in the NICU.  One day he was dying, the next he was showing remarkable improvement.  One day he had a hole in his heart, the next day it was healed--miraculously.  However, the major healing didn't come.  Thomas Gaylen died at 11 days of age.  More on this later.

Life went on, and time passed.  After many life changes, I found myself in Tucson and going to the Vineyard.  Again, big emphasis on God healing.  At one point, the idea (at least to my ear) was that if God wasn't healing you, it was because you weren't persistent enough. Keep asking and he'll finally come through.  I had Fuch's Dystrophy and was waiting until one eye was ready for the surgery.  Hearing this, my old determination came back.  I would seek and seek and seek until I found the answer I needed.  Well, I sought and sought and sought--and finally I had to admit to myself that I wasn't healed-just disappointed.  About a year later, though, I did have surgery on my right eye.  I can now see adequately with both eyes without glasses.  I was rejoicing in being able to go to the bathroom without putting them on, when I heard God's voice.  "Remember asking me to heal your eyes?  You're welcome."

This is my point.  God heals us all. Every one.  Some he heals miraculously.  Others he heals through those that he calls to be healers--doctors, nurses, EMTs, psychologists, and so on.  Others he allows to stay as they are until they are eventually healed in heaven.  I don't understand why.  After all these years, I've come to realize that I don't need to understand.  You just have to accept that God knows what he's doing and stop second guessing him.

Now, please don't misunderstand.  I love my friends at the Vineyard and at my old churches.  I respect their faith.  I believe that many of those who plead to be healed are--I remember the miracles pronounced there, and I praise God for them.  But I do not agree that God means to heal every single person here on this earth miraculously.  I do not believe that your persistent pleading will necessarily bring about the healing you expect.  I think that understanding that God, for his own purpose, allows some to suffer and be healed in ways that we don't understand can give us peace and confidence.

Like I said, this was a musing.  It's one of those things that's been on my heart and in my head, so now at least it's on paper.

have you seen me?

Have you seen me?
I'm pretty hard to find,
In fact, sometimes it seems that I am invisible.

I am very good at hiding.
I shy away from people,
Even though I desperately want to be loved.

I have been wounded,
and I am afraid that I will be wounded again,
So I keep myself to myself
And do not seek out companionship.

Have you seen me?
I come out only when I think it's completely safe.
and then, not for long.

You might think, "Oh, she's feeling playful today!
What a change from her normal, serious side!"
That's me.

I'm still a child.
I think I always will be.
Hiding among the shadows,
I never got a chance to grow up.

Have you seen me?
I don't appear on any milk carton,
No flyer will ever carry my likeness.

Only her.

She carries remnants of the girl she used to be.
Deep within her lies the broken soul of her childhood self,
Stuffed down, eaten away, pushed into a corner

Not out of hatred
But out of fear.

But once in a while she hears me
And she dares to reveal me
At least for a little while.

If you see me,
Please remember

And when I'm not around,
Please tell her that you miss me.

Then maybe
just maybe

i can come outside
see the sun
and once again be part of her

forever.

please.....

the pharisee

Hi everyone--

This is important to me. Please respond.  I have lots of these portraits--it's the major thing I've always wanted to publish. But how do I publish them?  What do you think they would do best as?  Monologs? Short stories/poetry?  Some sort of book of reflections?

I call them Biblical portraits.  They are pictures of men and women from the old and new testament, seen in a different way.

I would love your comments.  If enough of you comment for me to get a clear picture of what you think, I will follow the majority rule.

Thanks!

the pharisee

Matt 22:34ff, 23

Among my people, there is a saying

that if anyone could keep all the rules

all the laws

for one day

then Messiah would come.

All the rules.

All the laws.

There are over 600 laws recorded in the Torah.

We have laws which govern everything

we do not need to question anything.

It is all clearly spelled out.

Of course, it was not always so.

When our father, Adam, was created

there was only one law

do not eat the fruit.

Knowing he could not,

naturally he ate

and caused the curse to come upon us all.

Since that time, we have slowly become overwhelmed

by law

by rules

by regulations.

Eat this

do not eat that.

Wear this

do not wear that.

Associate with this group,

but not with those over there,

who worship a different way.

Actually, I do not mind it.

I see it as a challenge.

A goad to the intellect.

Who is following the law,

and who is not,

and for those who are not,

what shall the punishment be?

I was content

until he came.

This Jesus.

Who did he think he was?

Saying that all of the laws could be broken down

made into two:

The Shema:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart

and soul

 and mind

and the other like it:

love your neighbor as yourself.

I heard him that night, and at first I was amused,

even impressed

by his insight.

But that night,

alone in my room

with no other faces about me

 to reflect my superiority

I was forced to consider anew his words.

Love the Lord your God

Love God

Love the Lord

Love your neighbor

Love yourself

Love.

This is the difficulty.

Laws are easy to follow.

You know right away if you are right or wrong.

Everything is clearly spelled out

and punishment is swift and sure

for those who transgress.

But love?

What does law have to do with love?

I am a Pharisee.

One of the chosen--

chosen even among the chosen

elite.

A lawyer.

One who has made it his life's work to carry out

the law.

I know every law

all 613

and I ruthlessly search out those who transgress those laws

to prosecute

even kill

 if necessary,

so that the law may stand firm.

But if this man,

this Jesus

is right,

what happens to the law?

What happens to me?

No!

He cannot be right.

For if he is,

then he is God.

And if he is God,

then the law

and everything it stands for

must be different than I had thought.

But I spent my life in the study of the law.

I cannot be wrong.

The price is too high.

Therefore,

he cannot be God.

And if he,

not being God,

proclaims himself God,

then he must die

so that the word of the law may be fulfilled.

There is a tradition among my people

that if one man should uphold all the law

for one day

then Messiah would come.

As I watched him on the cross

a man who

it was said

had no guilt in him

it occurred to me:

could it be that the only man who could uphold the law

all the law

for one day

was the Messiah?

And was that man

Messiah

even now upholding the law

fulfilling the law

on that same cross?

No!

It could not be.

The price was too high.

Unless, of course,

you reasoned in the price

of love.

on forgiveness

"I don't care what you say! They hurt me, and I will never never forgive them!"  Those words, coming from the mouth of a 17-year-old Christian girl, shocked me.  I was teaching a course on Biblical concepts, and this was just a review of the Lord's prayer.  "…and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us".  The lesson taught that forgiveness isn't for the other person--forgiveness is for you.

Refusing to forgive is toxic.  We all know this, don't we?  Yet we grasp our hurt and anger to our hearts with eagle talons, refusing to even consider opening our hands and letting go of them through forgiveness.  "Why should I?" we ask. We don't want to be the weak one.  We don't want them to get away with it.  It seems to us that the horrible thing that was done to us will be compounded if we forgive the person that did it.  Added to that is the idea that we would have to actually go to our offender, not to confront but to forgive?  Unthinkable!

Forgiveness is hard.  It goes against everything we have come to accept as true.  We are a society that loves getting even, and we can't imagine giving up our hurt to the very person that hurt us.  But if you're thinking in that way, there is a major truth about forgiveness that you're not getting.

Forgiveness isn't for them.  It's for you.

The person that has hurt you has great power over you unless you choose to forgive them.  The evil that they did to you, the sin they visited upon you, is festering within.  Your eagle talons are poison tipped, and the more tightly you hold on to your hurt, the more poison you take into yourself.  Forgiveness is a means of turning the back into hands that are capable of loving acceptance.  When you forgive, you allow the hands to open and the hurt and pain and poison to go away, back to the pit from whence they came.

Some people say that you need to confront your persecutor and say that you forgive them.  In fact, the peace is done in Catholic and other liturgical churches for precisely this reason.  (I believe that all churches should pass the sign of peace).  It enables the parishioner to seek out the person that he has wronged or the person that has wronged him and ask for or give pardon.  It normally happens before communion so that you can partake with a clean conscience.

I am not sure that I agree with these people in all cases.  For one thing, the obvious fact is that some people are no longer around to forgive.  They have moved or died or you have lost touch.  For another, there are some people whose souls are so dark that they will take your forgiveness as another excuse to wound you even more.  Such people should be left alone until that time that you are strong enough in yourself and in the Lord to meet with them.

Forgiveness can be accomplished simply by speaking to these people with God as your witness.  I have forgiven countless people in this way.  If it's not enough, God will definitely let you know.  But for the majority (especially those lost to us through time or place), this will allow the bitterness to dissipate and the healing to begin.

As for those few that God tells you  must be confronted, be alert.  There's a reason.  There was one person in particular that changed my life when I forgave them.  This person did me a wrong that had been with me for many years, and when I confronted, I was told that the person had regretted it their whole life. They had done it to me because it had been done to them, and it had been the biggest mistake that the person had ever made.  "I'm so sorry that I destroyed your life," I was told.  We finished the conversation, I hung up the phone, and then it dawned on me.  Nobody can destroy my life but me!  I  can choose to let what happened make me weak or make me strong.  I choose to let it make me strong!

I learned so much through that conversation.  First, I realized that the person needed my forgiveness as much as I needed to give it.  Secondly, the person was passing on a wrong that had been done.  Thirdly, the thought of an action controlling one's life had been in both our minds, and we both needed to get past it.  I hadn't realized that, and once I did, I felt chains slipping off.  The forgiveness, which had happened long before the conversation, changed somehow.  Instead of forgiving an action that still existed, it was as if the forgiving "face to face" erased the actions themselves.  I can truly say that I no longer feel bound by them, and I pray that the other person has achieved some of the same feeling, as well.

So if you feel that there are certain things in your life that you can't forgive--a parent's unfaithfulness that led to divorce, a rebuff from friends, a time of abuse or molestation--please try--just try--forgiveness.  What do you have to lose?

1 cor 13

13 If I speak in the tongues^[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.² If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains,but do not have love, I am nothing. ³ If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,^[b]but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Nothing.  What a big word.  It seems like something at the time.  Some may listen, applaud, even honor you, but in the end…ashes. Nothing.  All because you did it without love.

⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 

⁸ Love never fails.

Be careful.  You may think that you are full of Christian love, but is it patient and kind?  Is it envious?  Does it boast or show pride?  Here's a good one.  Does it dishonor others?  Is it trying to bring things around to your way of thinking?  Does it fall easily into anger? Is it busy keeping records?  Does it rejoice in the truth, even if that truth is inconvenient?  Does it protect? Trust? Hope? Persevere?

I'm sorry, but I am drawn to the line, it always protects.  What kind of love is being shown today in the name of Christianity?  Love that protects or self-righteousness that throws others under the bus and into the mouths of wolves?

8 (cont) But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. ⁹ For we know in part and we prophesy in part, ¹⁰ but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. 

We know so little when compared to what we will know.  We may see a good deal, but it is so little compared to what is to come.  Love.  We might prophesy, we might attain all wisdom, but it all will end.  Only love remains.

¹¹ When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. ¹² For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

To see without limitations.  To understand without the barriers that are common to man today.  To be able to wipe our eyes, open them wide, and see God's truth displayed clearly, in plain view. I will one day know him as well as he knows me.  And he is love.  To know him better even now, seek earnestly for the ability to grow in love.

¹³ And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Ever believed beyond belief?  Ever hoped beyond hope?  Ever woke up one morning and thought--for that one precious second--that the lost loved one was back again?  It will one day happen.  And love will rule it all.  Come quickly Lord Jesus.

baby steps to the dance

You sit in your corner
Isolated, alone
Protected from the world by your own inability to move forward.

"The world has hurt me, so I can't trust anybody or anything to ever come close again."

For years, the words have made sense, kept you safe.
You tell yourself that the people who try to break through to you
 have only more evil in mind for you.
They must at all costs be kept out.

But then, somehow, someone--something--gets through.
In spite of yourself, you find that you cannot live a completely solitary life,
and so you tentatively reach out for help,
and someone else takes your hand
and the dance begins.

It starts slowly, haltingly, with many falls along the way.
You have forgotten how to dance.

Dance?  Hell, you've forgotten how to walk!

And so you slide on your rump, trying to get the feel of it again.

It is so painful.
Trying to talk to someone.
Trying to connect.
Over and over, you think that you will give up.

It's just too hard.

But the newly-released spirit within you refuses to allow you to slide all the way back into your hole,
and so you try and try
and try again.

More and more grateful for the steady hand
That is always ready to lift you up.

"I had nothing to do with the mess that has become my life."
"It was the addiction, the illness, the abuse, the molestation, the divorce"
It was him.  It was her.  It was them.  It was a million different excuses, each one more believable than the one before.

You teeter and totter, clinging to the outstretched hand, not ready to take the next step.

Crutches of hurt and blame have kept you where you are, and you will not be able to dance before you can walk.

And so, slowly, gently, with many baby steps, you finally let go of the hand,
Turn to face the dawn,
And realize that you have been answering the wrong question.

It's true, you had an awful break.
What happened to you should never have happened.
You lived through a tremendous loss.

Those are great answers, but you misheard.

The question is NOT why did this happen to you?

That question has long since been answered.
You answer it still--
Over and over and over.

The question of the moment,
Sweet child of God, 
Is this:

What are you going to do about it now?

 All this time,
Face on the floor,
Head in the sand,
Stubbornly clinging to your pain and pride,

You did not even realize that your spirit has moved on.

All this time, you have been answering the first question,
And the second question,
At the same time.

By staying stuck in the first step,
Identification,
You have been unwilling
Unable
To proceed to the second step.

Can you move on?
Can you look at the second question and take a baby step toward the answer?

It will lead you into the dance.

So Sweetheart,
Look at it:
What are you going to do now?

The hand is still there,
Outstretched,
Nail-scarred.

Stand with me and let him lift you up.

Say with me,
I choose to live.
I choose to walk.
I choose to dance.

I will walk by your side,
I will help you in the walk

and that other hand will always always be there for you.

So take your first baby steps to the dance of freedom.

No, you won't immediately begin to samba,
To do a beautiful waltz.

It takes time.

But soon enough you will be walking,
Then running,
Then dancing,
Then flying.

All it takes is trust.

Trust in me,
Trust in him.
And trust in yourself.

Go forward into the dance,
And God bless you as you learn the movements.












(

loneliness

I am
alone.
Totally and utterly
alone.

Sounded good in Beetleguise, but not so much in real life.

You are as alone as you let yourself be.

You can choose to be solitary and enjoy it

Or you can choose to be alone and miserable.

I've tried both
and I prefer the former to the latter.

I'm not one of those that feel that Facebook is ostracizing.

It can be if you let it,

But for people like me,
in a town far away from my family,

I feel that it helps me connect with my family and friends
(although my kids would probably say "keep tabs on" or "snoop").

We are moving away from each other at an alarming rate.

Even 100 years ago, this was not true.

Families stayed together.

But today, it is too easy to pick up and move.

So we are islands in space,

Separated by distance,
but not by love.

Thank goodness for the phone,
Facebook,
Email,
And all the rest of it.

However, I know that there are still some very lonely people out there.
There are people who sit and stare at nothing night after night,
people who live their lives through the tv because they have no other to speak of.

I pray for those people,

but am honest enough to admit

that I have little idea

(and sad to say less inclination)

on how to get in touch.

So I will pray for them

That they will find a friend.

And I will ask your prayers for me,

That I can learn to be one.

And how about you?