This morning I brought the Lord a “Hallelujah.”
I was thinking about a song I wrote a few years ago about how we bring to the Lord the fullness of this word—“Hallelujah”—in the different seasons of our life, and how it is drawn from different places within us, how it resonates with different nuances of whatever has flavored our moment, and that its honest tones relay a multitude of words that come up lacking beside it.
So this morning, as this song rolled through my mind, testifying of the complexities of the seasons I have walked through before and how this “Hallelujah” has reverberated from my heart in them, I gathered all the pieces of my current moment…the failures, the triumphs, the pains, the confusions, the impatience, the joy, the thanksgiving…and with no need to sort through it, I bound them up in this honest, simple word of praise—chock full of desire and understanding and complicated floundering—and directed it upwards to my Lord with an undivided heart.
And this beautiful God of mine received it, with all it held and all it lacked. I offered Him the honest praise from my current season, and He received it…just as it was. I wish I could explain to you what happens to my heart when I find myself accepted, again and again and again. And I also hope that I will never stop marveling at the Lord’s willingness to hold within His spotless hands a blemished lamb, who with honest, pleading wanting has simply turned its eyes toward Him.
Hallelujah.
Sunday, September 1, 2019
Sunday, June 30, 2019
Clarifying the sacrifice.
My daughter asked me yesterday what the word “diverge” meant. I told her that it meant to suddenly veer off in a new direction. This conversation popped back into my head today after I shared with a friend how my life had seemed to be on a course, when, with the revealing of twins in my womb, I was abruptly set on a different path leading to unknown places.
God seemed to be opening doors for me to walk through; doors that utilized abilities and tapped into passions I carry inside me that long to be used, grown and relayed. And in an instant, all of life came to a screeching halt as I was brought face-to-face with a future filled with unknown territory and demands.
I feel like I stopped moving my feet and simply was left to look longingly at the open doors in front of me that now seem too far out of reach.
You know, motherhood requires a lot of self-sacrifice; daily you are called to set aside your needs and wants to tend to others. My daughter wanted to make breakfast for everyone the other day and when she finally headed to the breakfast table with her own plate of cold food, she sighed and said, “I don’t think I’m going to do that again.” But motherhood asks you to “do that again”; to lay yourself aside again and again for the sake of others you love. And I am grateful to learn this sacrificial love, and to wrestle for the heart of gratitude that allows me to do it without resentment or discontent.
And I have been looking at this situation of a twin pregnancy meeting open doors that I must walk past as a sacrificial act of love; where I set aside the gifts and abilities that would have been used and grown there for a different season that I have been called to.
But I’ve been looking at it the wrong way.
I often think of the gifts and abilities that I’ve gained over the years of walking with the Lord as being things He uses or doesn’t use as He desires. After all, they’re His, not mine, and exercised outside of His anointing and presence they could bring about no fruit for the Kingdom. And if I am not in a season where He asks me to sing on the worship team, or use my graphic design skills, or be involved in trafficking outreach, or lead prayer gatherings, then I feel like my gifts and abilities are left dormant until He calls them up again. I try to be faithful in every season; willing to be used in little or in much, submitted to His hands.
But God never told me to set aside the abilities and giftings I have gleaned from one season as I move to another. I’m to carry them with me…to find ways to bring them into the next place I must stand. I don’t think I’ve done that well. I may never sing on a worship team again, but that doesn’t mean the songs I’ve written shouldn’t echo off the walls of my own home. I may never lead a prayer meeting again, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be leading my own chlidren into lives of intersession. I may never join a creative round table again, but that doesn’t mean I can’t teach my children the power of visual advocacy and creatively displaying ideas. I may never teach women the Word, but that doesn’t mean teaching my future women is any less a gift.
God never asked me to sacrifice my gifts and abilities when I change seasons.
So what did I ACTUALLY set aside when I diverged from the path I thought was being laid out in front of me? My own idea of what things would look like; what I, with my limited imagination, could visualize. When I look at it that way, I find that’s actually not a hard thing for me to sacrifice; I’ve learned over the last 15 years that as unusual or unexpected as God’s ways may be, they are always better than my own. His desires, His way. That’s what I want.
And I’m grateful to shake off the pain of “self” from this diverged path; because the destination to where I walk is certainly a place of gain, not of loss.
God seemed to be opening doors for me to walk through; doors that utilized abilities and tapped into passions I carry inside me that long to be used, grown and relayed. And in an instant, all of life came to a screeching halt as I was brought face-to-face with a future filled with unknown territory and demands.
I feel like I stopped moving my feet and simply was left to look longingly at the open doors in front of me that now seem too far out of reach.
You know, motherhood requires a lot of self-sacrifice; daily you are called to set aside your needs and wants to tend to others. My daughter wanted to make breakfast for everyone the other day and when she finally headed to the breakfast table with her own plate of cold food, she sighed and said, “I don’t think I’m going to do that again.” But motherhood asks you to “do that again”; to lay yourself aside again and again for the sake of others you love. And I am grateful to learn this sacrificial love, and to wrestle for the heart of gratitude that allows me to do it without resentment or discontent.
And I have been looking at this situation of a twin pregnancy meeting open doors that I must walk past as a sacrificial act of love; where I set aside the gifts and abilities that would have been used and grown there for a different season that I have been called to.
But I’ve been looking at it the wrong way.
I often think of the gifts and abilities that I’ve gained over the years of walking with the Lord as being things He uses or doesn’t use as He desires. After all, they’re His, not mine, and exercised outside of His anointing and presence they could bring about no fruit for the Kingdom. And if I am not in a season where He asks me to sing on the worship team, or use my graphic design skills, or be involved in trafficking outreach, or lead prayer gatherings, then I feel like my gifts and abilities are left dormant until He calls them up again. I try to be faithful in every season; willing to be used in little or in much, submitted to His hands.
But God never told me to set aside the abilities and giftings I have gleaned from one season as I move to another. I’m to carry them with me…to find ways to bring them into the next place I must stand. I don’t think I’ve done that well. I may never sing on a worship team again, but that doesn’t mean the songs I’ve written shouldn’t echo off the walls of my own home. I may never lead a prayer meeting again, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be leading my own chlidren into lives of intersession. I may never join a creative round table again, but that doesn’t mean I can’t teach my children the power of visual advocacy and creatively displaying ideas. I may never teach women the Word, but that doesn’t mean teaching my future women is any less a gift.
God never asked me to sacrifice my gifts and abilities when I change seasons.
So what did I ACTUALLY set aside when I diverged from the path I thought was being laid out in front of me? My own idea of what things would look like; what I, with my limited imagination, could visualize. When I look at it that way, I find that’s actually not a hard thing for me to sacrifice; I’ve learned over the last 15 years that as unusual or unexpected as God’s ways may be, they are always better than my own. His desires, His way. That’s what I want.
And I’m grateful to shake off the pain of “self” from this diverged path; because the destination to where I walk is certainly a place of gain, not of loss.
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
Only the Lord is Worthy.
There are some words in my mind that are reserved for God alone; words such as—amongst other awe-filled descriptors—holy, sovereign and almighty. They are words that when paired with any other object or being cause the Spirit within me to cringe because any object or being that has been accredited with one of these set-apart attributes is unfit to bear it, and has been elevated to a place of worship meant for the Lord alone.
A favorite phrase I hear lately tossed around circles of Christian women and floating out of those teaching (or singing to) them is, “You are worthy.” I get where this incorrect statement comes from and why it is often spoken. I do. Christian women are seeking to help one another heal from years of being spiritually abused, repressed and disqualified from their place in the Body of Christ; we’re lifting each other out of the dirt, brushing off red paint we’ve had thrown on us and reminding each other who we are in the Lord. And one of the wonders we have to wrap out minds around is that Jesus loves us so much that He poured Himself out for our salvation; that no matter what identity we’ve had engraved in us by the voices around us over time, from the beginning, He laid out a plan to make us His own. It is a wonder that is healing balm to the wounded souls of the ones who has been told that as females they are of no value to the Church.
But here’s where things get twisted. When the Lord, who knows and sees all things, saw it fitting to stretch Himself out on the cross and take our rightful death upon Himself, He didn’t do it because we’re deserving. He did it because He had set His love upon us and to Him, it was worth pouring Himself out for our salvation. Let me give you a picture of what I mean:
My daughter has a stuffed panda; its fur is matted down, its eyes and nose are scratched from years of wear and tear, its white has long since turned to a a perpetual shade of light gray in spite of many washings, and there’s a little string sticking off its chin that reminds me there is just a worn thread that holds it all together. But that little girl would do anything for this panda: When it is lost, all gets set aside to hunt it down; when it is “hurt,” she creates a hospital to bring that panda healing; when panda has a birthday, she parties hard; to her, this panda is a light in her life. Now, is this stuffed animal worth anything in-and-of itself? No, I doubt a thrift store would even let it grace its shelves. But to her, it is of utmost value because she has set her love upon it.
And THAT is why, in spite of the fact that the Lord moved heaven and earth to die on a cross for us, HE is the ONLY one who will EVER be worthy. We are not worthy, we are beloved. When we delight that someone or something is “worthy,” we are saying that everything that comes to it is rightfully theirs; that in-and-of themselves lies whatever calls for or requires what they received. So we can say of the Lord that He is worthy of our praise, of our worship, or our devotion, of our very lives poured out…and we are speaking the truth. But if we look at ourselves and at what the Lord has done for us, and declare that WE are worthy of His saving work; we reveal that our understanding of both the Lord and of ourselves is woefully twisted and fearfully blurred because we have elevated ourselves to a pedestal we are utterly unfit to perch upon.
We ARE NOT worthy, only God is worthy. But we ARE beloved by a God who declares us of great value to Himself; and as He reveals to us this wonderful, merciful, mysterious truth, may we exalt Him as we fall prostrate in awe and gratitude before this marvelously weighty love.
A favorite phrase I hear lately tossed around circles of Christian women and floating out of those teaching (or singing to) them is, “You are worthy.” I get where this incorrect statement comes from and why it is often spoken. I do. Christian women are seeking to help one another heal from years of being spiritually abused, repressed and disqualified from their place in the Body of Christ; we’re lifting each other out of the dirt, brushing off red paint we’ve had thrown on us and reminding each other who we are in the Lord. And one of the wonders we have to wrap out minds around is that Jesus loves us so much that He poured Himself out for our salvation; that no matter what identity we’ve had engraved in us by the voices around us over time, from the beginning, He laid out a plan to make us His own. It is a wonder that is healing balm to the wounded souls of the ones who has been told that as females they are of no value to the Church.
But here’s where things get twisted. When the Lord, who knows and sees all things, saw it fitting to stretch Himself out on the cross and take our rightful death upon Himself, He didn’t do it because we’re deserving. He did it because He had set His love upon us and to Him, it was worth pouring Himself out for our salvation. Let me give you a picture of what I mean:
My daughter has a stuffed panda; its fur is matted down, its eyes and nose are scratched from years of wear and tear, its white has long since turned to a a perpetual shade of light gray in spite of many washings, and there’s a little string sticking off its chin that reminds me there is just a worn thread that holds it all together. But that little girl would do anything for this panda: When it is lost, all gets set aside to hunt it down; when it is “hurt,” she creates a hospital to bring that panda healing; when panda has a birthday, she parties hard; to her, this panda is a light in her life. Now, is this stuffed animal worth anything in-and-of itself? No, I doubt a thrift store would even let it grace its shelves. But to her, it is of utmost value because she has set her love upon it.
And THAT is why, in spite of the fact that the Lord moved heaven and earth to die on a cross for us, HE is the ONLY one who will EVER be worthy. We are not worthy, we are beloved. When we delight that someone or something is “worthy,” we are saying that everything that comes to it is rightfully theirs; that in-and-of themselves lies whatever calls for or requires what they received. So we can say of the Lord that He is worthy of our praise, of our worship, or our devotion, of our very lives poured out…and we are speaking the truth. But if we look at ourselves and at what the Lord has done for us, and declare that WE are worthy of His saving work; we reveal that our understanding of both the Lord and of ourselves is woefully twisted and fearfully blurred because we have elevated ourselves to a pedestal we are utterly unfit to perch upon.
We ARE NOT worthy, only God is worthy. But we ARE beloved by a God who declares us of great value to Himself; and as He reveals to us this wonderful, merciful, mysterious truth, may we exalt Him as we fall prostrate in awe and gratitude before this marvelously weighty love.
Memorial Day Reflections
It gets me every time; the 3-Volley Salute followed by Taps. The sound of the first shot fired transports me back to the front row at my brother’s graveside service; encompassed by grief as I fix my eyes on a coffin containing his uniform-clad body. The shots that follow reverberate through my heart bringing back to life the places of pain that over time have grown dormant; shudders running through me from head to toe. And when finally there is silence, the gentle sound of Taps fills the air, as if wishing to soothe the abruptness of the pain that was just thrust upon me; a haunting accompaniment to my falling tears.
Today as this tradition came to a close, I felt as these memories flashed before me—of a coffin lowering into a grave, of the feeling of dirt filling my shoes as it fell from the shovel while I put dirt onto his open grave, of the sobs that came in crushing waves breaking out of my chest with overwhelming intensity—gratitude. Time passes. Details and images in my mind grow fuzzy. But traditions like these take these memories, frozen in time I leave further and further behind me, and brings them for a moment into my today. They remind me that even if things get harder to remember, this fact remains: I am a marked woman. Marked by the life of my brother Noah, marked by the love I had for and received from him, and marked by the losses I know because he is no longer here.
Sunday, March 3, 2019
The time for mercy is ending.
I want you to know that I am not a woman of politics, I am a woman of faith. So set aside your political lens before you read this, because I don’t care where you stand on the political spectrum. From my point of view, the battle belongs to the Lord: It is God against sin—not people against people—and I care about your soul’s wellbeing.
I’m going to be very frank right now; more direct than perhaps I have ever been on here. We’re at a crux as a country. When I sit down to pray, I find that God has shut up my instinctual prayer for mercy; that in the face of the atrocity of abortion, I am no longer allowed to cry out for mercy for our country. “It is the wrong prayer,” He tells me. Instead, I am lifting my voice to those around me with this plea, “Turn and repent!”
Let me lay out reality for you. In increasing measure over the last few years, we’ve been shown the blunt truth about abortion in very wide-reaching visuals and testimonies: Physicians have stood up and explained the heart-breaking process of removing living children from the womb piece by piece; Planned Parenthood executives have talked heartlessly about harvesting and selling the body parts of aborted children; former abortion workers and recipients of abortion have described the reality of what abortion is and its effects; statistics have shown that less than 2% of abortions are done because of rape/incest and less than 15% because of medical (physical & emotional combined) reasons; science has proven fetus’ ability to feel pain, made strives in helping them survive earlier and earlier outside the womb, proven the reality of what we all know…that a child in the womb is a living, individual human being. And yet, even in the face of that, in the last 2 annual reports from PP— the leading abortion provider in the US—they stated that 600,000+ new donors and over 250,000 volunteers stepped into their direct work since 2016. They showed that abortions increased and actual healthcare services decreased, government funding increased by $20 million, private contributions increased by $100 million and their total net assets increased from $1.6 billion to $1.9 billion. Legislation has arisen in state after state increasingly removing the personhood of unborn children, cheering resounds and lights shine as murder is legalized to the moment before birth, and the call has been lifted to accept infanticide (killing living, breathing infants outside the womb)—just yesterday senate democrats took a stand for letting babies born alive after failed abortions die on the table. Basically, as the blinders have been pulled off to reveal what is underneath the word “abortion” that we flippantly toss around, our society has called for more blood.
I’ve been reading through the bible this year, and I keep encountering verses about how innocent blood that is shed in a land pollutes and defiles the physical land on which it is shed and there is a point in which that blood will be too much and the land will “vomit you out” as God finally punishes utter wickedness.
Society, you have called for and celebrated death of innocent children. You look across the ocean at tribes participating in child sacrifice on physical altars to their local gods and arrogantly pat yourselves on the back for having a higher morality. But in our country, since the passing of Roe vs. Wade, we have sacrificed 60,997,447+ children on the altar of “Women’s Choice.” Whether you acknowledge or deny the LORD, He is still the one TRUE living God, and one day you WILL answer to Him, your knee WILL bow to Him and He WILL justly determine your eternal resting place. Turn and repent for the blood we have shed before the opportunity to receive mercy passes.
Isaiah 55:6–7 “Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near; let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that He may have compassion on him, and to our God, for He WILL abundantly pardon.”
Statistics on why people have abortions (per state): http://www.johnstonsarchive.net/policy/abortion/abreasons.html
How a child is aborted: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=53tzMV9OmvY
Upcoming movie of former PP exec’s life (rated R for violence): https://www.imdb.com/title/tt9024106/
Movie of real-life abortionist Grosnell: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3722234/
Do not close your eyes any longer, don’t blindly follow narratives you want to believe because you want to be accepted by the culture around you…millions of children are killed in the name of “choice” every year. Stand for women. Stand for children. Stand for HUMANITY! Stand for life.
#abortion #prolife #istandforwomen #istandforlife #truth #turnandrepent
I’m going to be very frank right now; more direct than perhaps I have ever been on here. We’re at a crux as a country. When I sit down to pray, I find that God has shut up my instinctual prayer for mercy; that in the face of the atrocity of abortion, I am no longer allowed to cry out for mercy for our country. “It is the wrong prayer,” He tells me. Instead, I am lifting my voice to those around me with this plea, “Turn and repent!”
Let me lay out reality for you. In increasing measure over the last few years, we’ve been shown the blunt truth about abortion in very wide-reaching visuals and testimonies: Physicians have stood up and explained the heart-breaking process of removing living children from the womb piece by piece; Planned Parenthood executives have talked heartlessly about harvesting and selling the body parts of aborted children; former abortion workers and recipients of abortion have described the reality of what abortion is and its effects; statistics have shown that less than 2% of abortions are done because of rape/incest and less than 15% because of medical (physical & emotional combined) reasons; science has proven fetus’ ability to feel pain, made strives in helping them survive earlier and earlier outside the womb, proven the reality of what we all know…that a child in the womb is a living, individual human being. And yet, even in the face of that, in the last 2 annual reports from PP— the leading abortion provider in the US—they stated that 600,000+ new donors and over 250,000 volunteers stepped into their direct work since 2016. They showed that abortions increased and actual healthcare services decreased, government funding increased by $20 million, private contributions increased by $100 million and their total net assets increased from $1.6 billion to $1.9 billion. Legislation has arisen in state after state increasingly removing the personhood of unborn children, cheering resounds and lights shine as murder is legalized to the moment before birth, and the call has been lifted to accept infanticide (killing living, breathing infants outside the womb)—just yesterday senate democrats took a stand for letting babies born alive after failed abortions die on the table. Basically, as the blinders have been pulled off to reveal what is underneath the word “abortion” that we flippantly toss around, our society has called for more blood.
I’ve been reading through the bible this year, and I keep encountering verses about how innocent blood that is shed in a land pollutes and defiles the physical land on which it is shed and there is a point in which that blood will be too much and the land will “vomit you out” as God finally punishes utter wickedness.
Society, you have called for and celebrated death of innocent children. You look across the ocean at tribes participating in child sacrifice on physical altars to their local gods and arrogantly pat yourselves on the back for having a higher morality. But in our country, since the passing of Roe vs. Wade, we have sacrificed 60,997,447+ children on the altar of “Women’s Choice.” Whether you acknowledge or deny the LORD, He is still the one TRUE living God, and one day you WILL answer to Him, your knee WILL bow to Him and He WILL justly determine your eternal resting place. Turn and repent for the blood we have shed before the opportunity to receive mercy passes.
Isaiah 55:6–7 “Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near; let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the Lord, that He may have compassion on him, and to our God, for He WILL abundantly pardon.”
Statistics on why people have abortions (per state): http://www.johnstonsarchive.net/policy/abortion/abreasons.html
How a child is aborted: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=53tzMV9OmvY
Upcoming movie of former PP exec’s life (rated R for violence): https://www.imdb.com/title/tt9024106/
Movie of real-life abortionist Grosnell: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3722234/
Do not close your eyes any longer, don’t blindly follow narratives you want to believe because you want to be accepted by the culture around you…millions of children are killed in the name of “choice” every year. Stand for women. Stand for children. Stand for HUMANITY! Stand for life.
#abortion #prolife #istandforwomen #istandforlife #truth #turnandrepent
Complex Compassion
I’m burdened, you guys, so I am going to write about it. Compassion for the oppressed and compassion for the oppressor. I want to give you a glimpse into how I, as a follower of Jesus and the Bible, hold those two things together.
When I say that I have compassion for the oppressed and the oppressor, these are very different things and may look very different from each other when played out. I also want you to know that to feel both does not mean I am impartial, to feel both is not something that comes naturally to me, and to feel both has more to do with the Lord’s heart than with my own.
If I were to walk into a room in which sat a rapist and a rape victim, my inclination might be to do two things: Pummel the rapist and hold the victim while weeping, seeing, listening, and feeling the pain of the atrocity done to her.
But as a believer in Jesus and a follower of the Bible (and if you claim the first, you should be doing the second), my responsibility is to take these feelings and bring them before the Lord. Because even though I have walked with Him for 14 years, it may just mean that if I were to walk into that scenario today, the only initial difference would be that I stop myself from doing the actual pummeling.
It is only when I kneel before the Lord is prayer that I find the compassion that is foreign to me. In prayer, I must lay before Him my fury over the oppressor, my sorrow over the oppressed, and my heart. I must set beside these things the truths and commands I see in scripture, and the heart of the Lord I read about there. Things like:
Psalm 147:3 “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
Matthew 5:44 “But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
Ezekiel 33:11”...As I live, declares the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live...”
And when all of these things are laid out before Him, I must wrestle.
Let me tell you about the pivotal moment for me surrounding this topic: Some of you may know that I have a heart for those caught in sex trafficking (broken sexuality and its effects are a whole). A number of years ago, I was praying one day about a big fight that was happening in Vegas. I was praying Psalm 72 and found there was one verse in particular that really captured me while I prayed:
Psalm 7:14 “From oppression and violence He redeems their life, and precious is their blood in His sight.”
I cried out to God for the women who would be sold and used: declaring that no matter how they were viewed by any other human, in His eyes their lives were precious; that every drop of blood drawn by the violence of their oppressors was seen by Him and counted as something in His eyes. And then my prayers turned to the ones who sold and bought them; I prayed they would see the evil of their ways and turn from them; that intended violence would stop before it came to fruition; that they would know salvation....and, in my righteous indignation, that if they were not to turn from their wickedness, that He would stop the oppression from continuing by “wiping them out.” And as soon as the words came out of my mouth, the Spirit gently said to me, “But...precious in My sight is their blood.” And in that moment, I shut my mouth and I wept and I have not been the same since. Friends, when I pray for the oppressor, the intensity, purity and longing that fuel my prayers CANNOT come from me--mine are far too limited and faulty--they must come from the heart of the Lord; the heart that beats through the pages of scripture and in His Spirit that He left as a Helper to guide us into ALL Truth.
I want you to know this: You can learn many thing about the heart of God when you read His Word, but if you want to learn how to feel the heart of God, you cannot do that unless you pray. It is in prayer that your heart fellowships with His, that your heart wrestles with His, that your heart learns to feel what He feels for whomever He feels it. I do not know of ANY OTHER place where you can learn to feel the heart of God than with His Word in prayer.
If you are a believer in Jesus, a follower of the Bible, one who wants to grow in likeness to Christ and reflect the beauty of your Savior, you must grow in truly KNOWING God’s heart. Because if you do not learn to wrestle in His presence with His Truth, you will distort Who He is and what He desires. The call on our life as His followers requires us to TANGIBLY depend upon Him to fulfill it, because left to our own volition, we will not land in a place that looks upon the wicked and declares, “Precious is their blood in His sight.”
When I say that I have compassion for the oppressed and the oppressor, these are very different things and may look very different from each other when played out. I also want you to know that to feel both does not mean I am impartial, to feel both is not something that comes naturally to me, and to feel both has more to do with the Lord’s heart than with my own.
If I were to walk into a room in which sat a rapist and a rape victim, my inclination might be to do two things: Pummel the rapist and hold the victim while weeping, seeing, listening, and feeling the pain of the atrocity done to her.
But as a believer in Jesus and a follower of the Bible (and if you claim the first, you should be doing the second), my responsibility is to take these feelings and bring them before the Lord. Because even though I have walked with Him for 14 years, it may just mean that if I were to walk into that scenario today, the only initial difference would be that I stop myself from doing the actual pummeling.
It is only when I kneel before the Lord is prayer that I find the compassion that is foreign to me. In prayer, I must lay before Him my fury over the oppressor, my sorrow over the oppressed, and my heart. I must set beside these things the truths and commands I see in scripture, and the heart of the Lord I read about there. Things like:
Psalm 147:3 “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
Matthew 5:44 “But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
Ezekiel 33:11”...As I live, declares the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live...”
And when all of these things are laid out before Him, I must wrestle.
Let me tell you about the pivotal moment for me surrounding this topic: Some of you may know that I have a heart for those caught in sex trafficking (broken sexuality and its effects are a whole). A number of years ago, I was praying one day about a big fight that was happening in Vegas. I was praying Psalm 72 and found there was one verse in particular that really captured me while I prayed:
Psalm 7:14 “From oppression and violence He redeems their life, and precious is their blood in His sight.”
I cried out to God for the women who would be sold and used: declaring that no matter how they were viewed by any other human, in His eyes their lives were precious; that every drop of blood drawn by the violence of their oppressors was seen by Him and counted as something in His eyes. And then my prayers turned to the ones who sold and bought them; I prayed they would see the evil of their ways and turn from them; that intended violence would stop before it came to fruition; that they would know salvation....and, in my righteous indignation, that if they were not to turn from their wickedness, that He would stop the oppression from continuing by “wiping them out.” And as soon as the words came out of my mouth, the Spirit gently said to me, “But...precious in My sight is their blood.” And in that moment, I shut my mouth and I wept and I have not been the same since. Friends, when I pray for the oppressor, the intensity, purity and longing that fuel my prayers CANNOT come from me--mine are far too limited and faulty--they must come from the heart of the Lord; the heart that beats through the pages of scripture and in His Spirit that He left as a Helper to guide us into ALL Truth.
I want you to know this: You can learn many thing about the heart of God when you read His Word, but if you want to learn how to feel the heart of God, you cannot do that unless you pray. It is in prayer that your heart fellowships with His, that your heart wrestles with His, that your heart learns to feel what He feels for whomever He feels it. I do not know of ANY OTHER place where you can learn to feel the heart of God than with His Word in prayer.
If you are a believer in Jesus, a follower of the Bible, one who wants to grow in likeness to Christ and reflect the beauty of your Savior, you must grow in truly KNOWING God’s heart. Because if you do not learn to wrestle in His presence with His Truth, you will distort Who He is and what He desires. The call on our life as His followers requires us to TANGIBLY depend upon Him to fulfill it, because left to our own volition, we will not land in a place that looks upon the wicked and declares, “Precious is their blood in His sight.”
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