Tag: testing

Broken Prayers From the Edge

I lock the doors.  Close the curtains.  And let God have it.

I clinch my fists in a maddening rage as my hands tremble violently.  Within moments, my fingers ache from the intense, white-knuckle tightness.  And my forearms cramp up.  The blood rushes to my head.  And my eyes burn and burn and burn from the tears.

I speak, then shout — and scream.

My voice becomes raspy as I rant.  And soon, my throat burns.  My heart is aflame with grief and rage, so much so that my ears can no longer understand the words coming out of my mouth.  Before it’s over, I will blow my nose several times and wipe my eyes often and much.

I am broken — and I am praying.

I start with the loss of my friend, JD, a man taken far, far too soon.  A man who left behind a wife and two children.  I tell God that I do not think it is fair for his children to grow up without a father.  And then, I ask God why He didn’t take me instead, that I want to be with my children, that I don’t have any here for me.

“All I do is suffer and I am sick to death of it!!!”

And then, I rant about all the believers — never the broken — who paint a picture of life with Christ as a portrait of perfection.  Their grandiose testimonies have made me feel like God has something against me, like grace is a joke for people like me because my life has been so hard.  My brokenness is not the result of one trial, nor one tragedy — but a lifetime of unbearable loss.

“And it just keeps happening!!!”

I rattle off the names of those I’ve lost in just the past five years:  Jerry, Britany, Virginia, Rob, Terry, Nancy, Leroy, Art, Kim, Greg, Melody — and now JD.  I tell God that I am the anti-Midas.  Everything King Midas touched turned to gold, but I feel like everything I touch turns to dirt.  I am cursed.  “God has raised His fist against me.”

“How am I supposed to go on?  How?”

And then, in that moment, all of my rage and all of my grief and all that I am burns and burns and burns for The Almighty.  I am a man of faith — and, even in the midst of this monstrous mess my life has become, I know that He could end every ounce of this despair with a simple whisper.  A sign.  A something.  Anything.

“If You would just speak, this madness would end!”

With the last tissue, I tell God that I am convinced He wants me to suffer — alone, in this maddening agony.  I tell Him that I have given up on Him, that I cannot take any of this any more.  That I am broken.  And my heart is dead.  My pain is too great, my anguish too deep.  And that I will never serve God again for as long as I live.

“I can’t do it!  I can’t do it!  I just can’t do it!”

Three days later, God spoke to me through a dream.

“In my dream, I had a vision…”

To learn more, read “Safe in the Mouth of Danger.”

 

Love,

The NorEaster

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The Hard Stuff

“And he told them many things in parables, saying: “A sower went out to sow. 4And as he sowed, some seeds fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured them. 5Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since they had no depth of soil.”

Matthew 13:3-5, ESV

 

Parables were one of the favorite ways that Jesus communicated the truth.  This folksy and imaginative bit of “story-telling” carried profound things.  In this peculiar parable they hear of a farmer “broadcasting” the spring seed. It says he went “out to sow.”  He went out (and not in.)  The fields were awaiting him and his precious seed.

There was seed that was incidentally sown on the hard path.  The sparrows and the wrens and robins came and ate all the seed they could hold.  And some other seed was sown into the gravel, and rocks.  There was really, very little good soil.

Amazingly, they grew.  The seed there managed to sprout, and show some real semblance of growth.  But, it was temporary.  It could not last, the conditions would not endure continual growth.  The young plants would soon shrivel up and die.

Many things happen, that reveal our heart rocky and hard.  Much traffic treading down the lanes of our heart, pack the soil of our hearts.  The soil compresses and will not allow the young roots to find the nutrients it needs. Things are hard, the soil is packed down–like concrete.

So many things roll through our hearts.  We discover that we have been trampled and stomped on.  What may have been soft and fertile, has been packed down and hardened by all the traffic.  We should-be been more aware. We turned to a “free-er” and more open acceptance of what we would take and tolerate.  Evil, which has taken advantage, moves deep into our thinking, and we “sign over” much that we will regret, but later on.

The seed though is the focus.  It is precious, and knowing this, we focus on its viability.  The seed that makes it into a tiny plant is valued incredibly.  We hover over it, trying to “will” it to grow.  (If that were possible.)  But it seems we can’t press through this point.  The “precious seed” is sown, and our hardness nullifies so much real growth.

The Lord’s gentle but deep awareness is focused on our softness.  How do we manage our hard hearts?  When his spirit reaches out to us (the other day it was a wonderful song on the radio); He was reaching to me, and than I shut it down.  I guess I know he’ll continue to reach for me, even if I’m so rude to him.

There is an old story, of a demonic horse rider who would ride through the country, and wherever the horse stepped there was a permanent deadness that would never let the seed to grow.  When we indulge sin, we enable sin to flourish, and we empower the “horse rider” to continue his advance.  Our lust, and greed, jealousy, pride and selfishness bring us a deep and shadowy darkness.  He moves through my life, and I am mostly saddened because I no longer reach to him, even though I think that I grasp for him.

But how will we manage the traffic through the soil of our lives.  Will we let it continue, or will we put up signs?  Signs create a “safety zone” and we turn to this draconian measures to keep things in a good order.  It seems harsh, but it gives us space to let what is soft to become eager to receive the seed.

Dealing with Arguers

“Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy”

Hebrews 12:14, TNIV

 

For me personally, someone in my face can be nasty and irritating.  It seems I can never say enough.  I simply don’t get any sense of having “convinced” them of my position or views.  I maintain composure (I try, anyway) and then ignite when its all over.

Inevitably, I start playing the whole ugly argument over and over.  Often, if I feel quite vulnerable, I will enlist my dear wife’s availability.  She comes to my side, where I find the support I wanted.

Intense arguments can derail me from so much.  Going to scripture in this frame of mind does me no good at all.  When I’m in this place, prayer becomes unplugged (kind of like my exercise “treadmill.”)  I sit in my chair and simmer, and occasionally boil over.

What do I need most?

  • Humility
  • Gentleness, and sensitivity
  • Kindness  
  • Pre-planning, or pre-alignment of my heart
  • A sense of humor
  • Renunciation of my “rights” and privileges

 

A lot of things could be added to my quick list, that would be helpful.  Making cookies, or doing new chores also sort out things.  If the issue is more mountain than molehill, find your way to an elder or a pastor.  But whatever you do, it’s best to keep moving.  So much is working to solidify you in one place.  It’s like walking through wet cement! (It’s best not to linger too long, in one place.)

Know this though.  Being in an argument or conflict is not sin.  They may disturb us, but we don’t necessarily have to sin.  Jesus had some whoppers in His day.  He walked into these conflagrations without a diminishing of peace or joy.  He walked out of them the same way.  He can teach us, by showing us how He did it.

Just one more thing (I’m trying hard to write a essay here.)  You don’t hear or read it very often–but, we all are models and examples to someone else.  Our children, neighbors, friends, the bank teller and our gym instructor.  Not that everyone knows of our issue, our frustration.  But that our lives are filled with a “joyous humility.”  I think what hurts me most is that I fear my witness or testimony has been damaged by my words and actions.

God is God of my everything.  He knows what happened.  He knows me, and knows them.  The sin does not impede His vision of you.  When he was on earth, he was never disturbed by any confict.  Today, he is the same.  Disputing with someone else– no problem.  He doesn’t get loose and cut you down in embarassment.  Brilliantly and lovingly, He absorbs all that concerns you.  He is more gentle than you know and kinder than any man, or woman. 

Contending for Our Faith

Beloved, although I was very eager to write to you about our(F) common salvation, I found it necessary to write appealing to you(G) to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints.

Jude 1:3, ESV

 

The Book of Jude is jammed with warnings and words of direction.  As we read though it, we are directed to understand that people who live sinfully are in mortal danger.  We check ourselves, and monitor our hearts to discern them.  Jude seems to reflect to us that the darkness out there is pervasive and a mite dangerous.

As we read this book, we should be lifted up in our confidence and boldness. We should find ourselves in a reasonable assurance.  However, Jude speaks out about a flood of darkness that is rolling right up to the very foundations of the Church.  Much of this small letter seems pessimistic.  But Jude in certain spots definitely gives us hope and encouragement.

There is a lot of personal reasons that I like this book .  Jude is one of the few books we can read in one sitting.  It also contains verses that are incredibly edifying.  We reach out for these promises and we find a good, strong rope to help us advance.

Jude tells his readers to be aware, and also to contend.  He really doesn’t want us to be argumentative.  But he does want us to ‘lock down’ and hold our positions.  Our faith has been handled and held by the generations before us.  Grandmas, and Aunties, and their parents, and parents of parents.  They all held our faith and stood boldly for the faith in Christ. 

It is now in our feeble hands, and its our turn.  We are called to ‘contend’ for our faith.  We stand in one spot against the darkness,  and we establish ourselves and refuse to compromise.  We stand against so much evil, but our faith should not erode.

The saints  from generations past had a have an aggressive brand of faith.  And the life we have experienced so far has been the life they also lived.  Day by day, their lives opened up for them, and they decided to live for God.  But their days could be very tedious, and they knew of them just as we know.  Believe it or not, tedium can be a difficult mindset to live in.

It is vitally important that we become ‘contenders’ of our faith.  That we stand in place while the flood water surge around us.  When the flood slams against us, will we stand at that moment?  Will we stay in our spot, when things get crazy and unrecognizable?  I have experienced first-hand a real flood,  and it comes with a powerful force, knocking down trees and buildings with no effort at all.

The Believer of today, has a tremendous amount of thinking to do.  Will we go against evil and ‘contend’ that our faith is real and that it is significant?  Will we stay rooted in the flood, and lift up the torch of faith?  He stands to see what you will do.  He despatches power and grace for our comfort and strength.