Being real

Being real is important to me. I want to know people and I want to be known by them. But that requires effort and vulnerability. The smile, the bright eyes, the laughter - it's nearly always genuine because the Lord has given me joy that doesn't depend on my circumstances. There are those days however, when I use those some things (the smile & laughter) to mask an inner pain, a hurt & confusion that I don't know how to deal with. Those are the days when I take my focus off of Jesus, when I stop walking by faith and instead start focusing on the stormy waters.

Oh I will run to Jesus and I pray about it. But then it hits again when I least expect it and I forget to run to Jesus or I get caught up in soothing my hurt through other avenues. But I know the truth that true healing will come only when I fully submit to Jesus and allow Him absolute control over my life. I can't fix me. I can try to fill the void with everything but God but it will never work. I have to submit, to give up control.

Reign in me, Sovereign God, heal my heart. You are drawing me to Yourself. You are drawing me to a place of joy & peace. I will trust You fully.

"Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil 1:6)

Rest in the Lord. Trust in the Lord. More often than I like to admit, I stink at both. I see the work that He has begun in me, I just long to see more of it. He has been so faithful to me. Every day I see more of Him - He grows me, teaching me more about Himself. I long for more of Him.

He will answer, He will hear

Isaiah 65:24 "Before they call, I will answer; while they are still speaking, I will hear".

Written by a doctor who worked in South Africa :
One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator).

We also had no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in tropical climates).

'And it is our last hot water bottle!' she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.

'All right,' I said, 'put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby & the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm.'

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.

During prayer time, one ten -year old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. 'Please, God' she prayed, 'send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon..'

While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, 'And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?'

As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say, 'Amen'. I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything, the Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel
from homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator!

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the veranda, was a large twenty-two pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children.

Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box.. From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there
were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that would make a batch of buns for the weekend.

Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the....could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out - yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle. I cried..I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of
the children. She rushed forward, crying out, 'If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly too!'

Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully
dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted!

Looking up at me, she asked: 'Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?'

That parcel had been on the way for five whole months. Packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child - five months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it 'that afternoon.'

'Before they call, I will answer' (Isaiah 65:24)

Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. There is no cost but a lot of
rewards.

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Jesus, I am asking You to minister to our spirits at this very moment. Where there is pain, give us Your peace and mercy. Where there is self doubt, release a renewed confidence to work through us. Where there is spiritual stagnation, I ask You to renew us by revealing Your nearness, and by drawing us into greater intimacy with You. Where there is fear, reveal Your love, and release to us Your courage.
Bless our finances, give us greater vision, and raise up leaders and friends to support and encourage us. Give each of us discernment to recognize the evil forces around us, and reveal to us the power we have in You to defeat it. I
ask you to do these things in Jesus' name.

We thank God for His manifold mercies and loving kindness

A devotional by: David Wilkerson

I am led by the Holy Spirit to write to you about God opening shut doors. Someone reading this message will relate immediately to this, because you face one or more closed doors. There it is, right in your face, a door that seems to be continually locked. It could be a serious financial situation, and you’ve prayed for the door of some opportunity to open. Yet everything you try seems to fail; the doors simply don’t open.

I don’t know what your closed door may be, but for many it seems both the windows and doors of heaven are closed. The heavens seem as brass, and you can’t seem to get through. This closed door I am speaking about is some issue, some situation, some need you’ve been praying much about. It may be a crisis that requires nothing less than a miracle. And you haven’t yet received an answer to your fervent prayers and petitions to the Lord.

In Revelation, Christ refers to himself as HE THAT OPENS AND SHUTS DOORS (3:7). This was in a letter sent to the believers in ancient Philadelphia, a church the Lord complimented for having kept the word of his patience and never denying his name. Simply put, in their most trying times, these people stood faithfully on God’s Word. They did not accuse the Lord of neglecting them or turning a deaf ear to their cries.

Evidently, Satan had come against them with lies. His principalities and powers of darkness, lying spirits pouring out of the very bowels of hell, say that God has shut every door, that he isn’t worthy of worship and faith. But these believers, whom Jesus said were of little strength, kept on trusting, waiting patiently for God to put the key in the door and open it. He holds the key to every shut door – and he alone sets before us open doors.

Here is what the Lord promised them, and it is our promise as well:

“Because you have kept the word of my patience [you did not give up in your trial], I also will keep you from the hour of temptation which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth” (3:10).

This hour of temptation is even now upon us. It holds incredible tests of faith so great and so fiery that many will fall into deadly unbelief. Indeed, a great falling away from enduring faith is now upon the whole world.

But you – because you still trust his promises, and are willing to die in faith even if you do not see the promises fulfilled – you will be kept from this worldwide temptation to fall into unbelief. God has heard your cry, and he knows the timing, the very hour, to open all doors. So, never give up. Never doubt. Stand on his promises. He will not fail you.

Journaling

I love to write. I frequently fill up journals with anecdotes about my days, thoughts about life and prayers that are on my heart. Some of what I write is pure nonsense (stemming from my tendency to be a drama queen), other entries are straight from the heart. Some entries are just silly while others are filled with emotion. Writing helps me clear my head, process what's going on in my heart and simply grasp onto what is happening in life. I recently saw this quote on someone's facebook status - not sure who wrote it originally - but it resonates with why I write.

Journaling occurs when something touches something deep within you and you do not want to let it go or forget it, but instead desire to drink deeply from it, sit with it, and allow it to have its way with you.

Am I on candid camera?

Sometimes I glance around wondering if a guy with a camera is going to jump out from behind a tree and tell me I'm on candid camera. Take this past Sunday for instance. I'm at church, standing in the lobby talking to a few friends. One of them is a young man that I've known for awhile though I don't know all that much about it. He is very nice guy and I enjoy interacting with him. At one point, a woman I know goes over to "Jack" and brings him to stand in front of me. She asks, "Holly, don't you want to ask Jack a question?" Her intention was for me to ask him out. Oh my. I was wearing a bright red fleece and I'm pretty sure my face was the same color. Jack just grinned and winked at me. Still my embarrassment grew as I wondered what to say. Finally, I stuttered, "No." She turns to Jack and says, "Oh she's just bashful." And then I'm pretty sure she said something about me wanting to ask him out. I just laughed awkwardly and said, "I'm leaving." Was there a camera guy behind that pole?

Later that same day, I drove to the DreamCenter for our young adult group. How long have I been driving? Do I know how to park? I thought I did. But on this night, I pulled into a parking spot and pulled too far up, running into the car in front of me. I roll my eyes at my ridiculous situation, back up and put my car in park. I get out to examine the two bumpers and realize that the car I hit belongs to my ex-boyfriend. Yeah. That was fun...having to go upstairs and confess to him what I had done. Really...is someone hiding with a camera?

:-)

Another Road

By Dr. Michael A. Halleen

"So he took another road and did not return by the way he had come to Bethel." (1 Kings 13:10)

Deep in the pages of the Old Testament is a fascinating little story about an unnamed prophet who traveled to Israel in a period of great difficulty and delivered a strong message. He was a foreigner, and his harsh words were vexing to the cruel king. Being no fool, the prophet had a sense that danger awaited him on his journey home. "So," we are told, "he took another road and did not return by the way he had come."

Our subdivision is located near a major east-west artery, the only means of access to or from our house. Watching the busy traffic on that road prompts me occasionally to ask what other means of escape we might have in a time of crisis. What alternate routes are available to us? We can't go more than one block before we must get on the highway that everyone else uses too. While there's no immediate threat to our calm little neighborhood, still it's discomfiting to think there's only one exit.

A few weeks ago I drove from Raleigh, North Carolina into South Carolina. I could have used the interstate but chose instead to take old Highway 1. It was a slower but far more interesting route, and I enjoyed wending my way through smaller cities that I might otherwise never have seen: Apex, Sanford, Southern Pines, Rockingham. "Another road" provided a pleasant day of sightseeing on my journey.

Alternate routes are good for life's journey too. My friend Bob, having been laid off in his mid-fifties from his accounting job, has decided this is an opportunity to take another road and pursue a lifelong dream of a career in music. I've had clients who would like to try something new but who, unlike Bob, are afraid to leave the highway on which they're coasting along. They have stayed in cruise control for too long and let the lease expire on their motivation, technical know-how, ambition or curiosity. Inertia has taken over. They're stuck on the familiar road and can no longer imagine any other.

The story of the foreign prophet does not end happily, for he changed his mind and returned to the common highway, and then — well, something about a lion and a tomb. When his crisis arose, this man chose familiarity over risk, abandoning his newly chosen road home. Find your alternatives. Check the map. Recalculate the GPS. Refresh the resume. Make the plan. And trust God to go with you.

"Only God knows"

Those were the final words of a House episode that I saw recently. And I felt a rush of comfort from the Lord upon hearing those words. He is the only One who knows the future. I find peace in the truth that He knows. Sure, I don't know what the future holds, or what lies ahead, but I know the One who does know. And He is completely trustworthy.

Who knew such peace could come from three simple words?