Not By Might

 

Wow. What a rollercoaster the last forty-eight hours have been! Part of that time span was spent sitting with a dearly loved one in the ER of a large university hospital ( nine-and-a-half hours). While I have entrusted their care to Almighty God and the infinite resources of heaven, I'm still tasked with finding a good specialist to look after them. I've done a lot of praying and texting the person, making sure they understand self-care in the aftermath and asking God for protection. 

In the midst of this, a prayer was answered about a job for that same loved one. My emotions have, to say the very, very least, run a long gambit. As I sat in the ER, plunged deep into a spiritual atmosphere rife with fear and despair, I fought an internal battle. I texted believing friends for prayer and pleaded with the Father for all sorts of things. It did not occur to me until I was home, safely tucked in a warm bed and listening to the rain pour outside, that part of the reason for my anxiety in the ER was the spiritually charged atmosphere of that emergency room.

When I first made my way through the double doors, I was instantly transported into what looked to me like a war zone, or a field hospital in the wilderness. It did not look like the emergency room of a level one trauma hospital in the wealthiest country in the world. There were, in short, people everywhere in all sorts of distress. There were elderly hunched in wheelchairs. There were people already hooked to intravenous lines, their poles and bags blocking aisles. People were coughing, throwing up, A woman whimpered in a corner. At some point a young man angrily cried "I've been assaulted with a deadly weapon!" He was summarily informed that there were a hundred people there waiting for help. It seemed to me staff was working as hard as they could. When, after a total (I got there late) of sixteen-and-a-half  hours after first being admitted, my loved one was finally given a bed, it was in a hallway. I can't be sure of all contributing factors but surmise the pandemic coupled with the location of the hospital (near the city center and a go-to for many people) had lead to the hospital being full. It was an unforgettable experience, to say the very least! We made sure to be as kind as we could to all staff, understanding that they were doing all that they possibly could. I was concerned for them.

Within those walls, a battle was raging. While I berated myself for not operating in faith, I failed to understand the waters I was treading. Satan and his battalion of spirits designed to crush body, soul and spirit were running amok in that waiting area. Demonic forces of fear, despair, infirmity, selfishness and rage roamed the aisles. I am so thankful for Christian friends who prayed for us and encouraged me by text. It was so strengthening. 

While I was there, God brought this passage of scripture to my attention:

 "For this cause everyone who is godly shall pray to You

In a time when You may be found;

Surely in a flood of great waters

They shall not come near him.

You are my hiding place;

You shall preserve me from trouble;

You shall surround me with songs of deliverance."

(Psalm 32:6-7, Holy Bible, New King James Version.)

God has instructed me to pray. I don't have to pray perfect prayers, prayers of just the right duration, or prayers prayed with a bold FEELING of faith. I just have to pray. God will supply the power, preservation and deliverance. 

I believe that if we have a lifestyle of prayer, when the floodwaters rise, we will instantly reach for God's hand. In my case, I also reach out for corporate prayer and I am deeply strengthened by it. When the issue touches a dearly loved one, the prayers of our Christian friends and their accompanying faith help so much because we may feel weak or exhausted. 

I didn't mention the warfare in the emergency room in order to shine a spotlight on the enemy. I simply want to remind all that we do not wage war as the world does. Our God, who is our supply, our defense, our healer and our support, is not intimidated by the enemy. Satan was crushed when Jesus defeated death on the cross. We need only to look to that same Jesus who the Bible says is the author and finisher of our faith to fight our battles for us. 

In all things and in every way endeavor to keep in step with the Spirit. Our victory is crystallized in Zechariah 4:6, which reads: "'Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit,' says the Lord of hosts." (Holy Bible, New King James Version.)

Rooms of My Heart

 

Today started like so many others. Hopeful that things would change in several rooms of my heart. Off to a prayerful start, followed by a loud crash as I let my flesh take over and the complaining, criticizing and unwholesome talk began to spill out. It's okay. I dusted myself off and here I sit at my laptop, tapping away in another surge of legitimate hope. I read a scripture today that conveys that what we say reflects what is in our hearts. Not real happy with the fruit of my lips so that one smacked me hard. I prayed that my heart would change so that my mouth would follow. It was and is a reminder that it all starts with my thought life. A submitted mind becomes a submitted heart which is then reflected in good speech. I'm a long, long way from where I want to be, but at least my heart is turned toward home.

Have you ever watched a baby try to pick up something fine or delicate? They struggle because their dexterity has not become refined. They have some gross motor skills, and a whole lot of good intentions toward the object of their desire, but they cannot close the deal because their little brains and bodies are not in sync yet. They will get there. One day at a time. I see our spiritual struggles the same way. At first we see the goal. It is wavering in the distance, almost seems like a mirage across the desert of the world, the flesh and the devil. That oasis of peace and righteousness that Jesus longs to seat us before. Then we start to move toward the image and the details become more refined. The goal is ever more lucid until we can smell the water, figuratively taste it on our lips. There is a sound in our ears, the voice of the Savior telling us to press on.  That's where I find myself today. First I was wrecked on the glass of the sin I committed already this morning. Then I was bandaged by grace. Now I am energized at the brook of conviction, repentance and healing. I'm back on my pilgrimage just that fast. Back on the way to growth in Jesus. Straightening my backpack with a smile!

I recently added the above picture to my prayer room. It's one I found while rummaging through the detritus of my well-intentioned life. I don't even know where it was taken, though I suspect it was a playground in Franklin, Tennessee where we lived for nearly a decade. My sons didn't know I was taking their picture. I don't know what they were talking about. Maybe a cartoon they liked, or a video game. Maybe something happening at their elementary school. What struck me hardest about the photo was their innocence. They didn't know how hard life could be. They just didn't know.

Now I look at it when I pray for them every morning. When I ask for healing and restoration. When I ask for the God of the Universe, the maker of the stars, to intervene in their circumstances. (Three concepts outlined in a song I play/pray over them.) It's heartening for me to know that He has them. That He loves them. That there is nothing that they have done or will do that will cancel that tenderness, dim that torch of passionate love. He is for them. He is FOR US! If I am going to pray, believe, ask and expect for them, I'm going to have to do better at forgiving myself and believing God still hears me. That He forgives, heals and restores ME. Being broken doesn't mean that I cannot be used, rather, it means I WILL be used to help those who feel just as shattered. Being broken means that I can feel what the lonely, the hurting and those who have no idea how they will start again are wading through. I can put my hand into that swamp and they will know I have only just brushed the moss from my own shoulders by the power of the Holy Spirit!

May God redeem the rest of this beautiful day!