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

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.”

Psalm 69:19–21

I came across this verse yesterday, and when I read it, the words swelled up in me. I’ve been processing through some childhood trauma, and I felt like the silenced voice of the little girl in me cried out to God with the psalmist.

“YOU know my reproach,” that little girl cried,
    “and my shame and my dishonor;
    my foes are all known to You.
Reproaches have broken my heart,
    so that I am in despair.”

Memories flowed through my mind as a sob welled up in my words...

“I looked for pity, but there was none,
    and for comforters, but I found none.”

I choked upon my sadness...

“They gave me poison for food...”
        and suddenly that little voice turned into that of my Savior
                     “...and for My thirst they gave Me sour wine to drink.”

And I cried. What a beautiful thing for the Lord to give me to rest upon as I heal. To give me a prophetic verse of Christ upon the cross to pair with my pain. In this passage I find two Truths that draw me into the arms of my Beautiful Healer:

First, the Lord was present with me in my suffering. He KNOWS it because He is acquainted with it.
And second, the cross is sufficient to cover the offenses done against me. He is enough.

trustworthy

simple trust
©10-31-18 hannah mclean

in spite of the complexity of my thoughts
of the specificity of my words
of the odd angles of my view
i am simple

i trust the LORD

wholly

if He tells me something
i believe Him

if His Word says something it true
i believe it

when i encounter hard things
i expect Him to be who He says He is
i expect Him to do what He says He will do

whether i understand fully now
or remain confused for the moment
i trust Him to reveal in His time
or conceal is His wisdom

i trust the Lord

wholly

and sometimes i wonder why
why do i do that?
why does it seem to come easy when others struggle?
where did that trust come from?
how come i can wholeheartedly lean on the Lord with such simplicity?

and in this season of healing old wounds
i see one reason

for many years
the LORD is the ONLY ONE i trusted 
every other person failed
even my own hands came up empty

but there was the LORD

and He was trustworthy
and i was overwhelmed with fear
and the sight was such a comfort
that i cast myself upon Him
i lay myself before Him
i wound myself around Him
i placed myself within His mighty arms

and in that place of trust
i found peace

and in that place of trust
i still find peace

and in that place of trust
i will always find peace

because simply put
the LORD is trustworthy
and in that sweet simplicity
i can wholly rest

-----

Isaiah 26:3–4 “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in You. Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD God is an everlasting rock.”

old wounds

To heal the wounds, we must be willing to look at them...and some of mine are straight up ugly.
---
my femininity and my childhood church
©10-29-18 hannah mclean

these big brown eyes
never changed size
whether they rested beneath my mama’s watchful gaze
or peered out from behind my papa’s leg
or wondered at the sights around me as i grew
or studied the floor in awkward discomfort
as i stumbled through ages and stages
or steeled themselves against the bombarding words
that sought control of what lay behind them.

it was these same big brown eyes
in my changing face throughout the years
you had to look into
as you declared to me
again and again and again
who i was
what i was worth
where i belonged
why i existed.

“sinful girl,”
you yelled into my innocent face
“you are the cause of all men’s sin;
and you must accept
these accusations and assaults against you
because to object is to admit your guilty conscience.”

“vile female,”
you slurred at my growing frame
“your place is one of servitude
because that is all you can be trusted with.”

“wayward woman,”
you proclaimed to my developing mind
“your voice, thoughts and feelings
will always be less than any man’s
because even if he is utterly wicked,
he still has more value than you
and the right to rule over you.”

“your
identity
is
sinner.”

“unfortunate one,”
you spoke with authority over me
“you are clothed in disgrace
because that is the only thing fitting
for the likes of your gender
until a man chooses to marry you
and raise your worth through bearing children.”

“fear me”
you said in Jesus’ name
“because whatever judgments men render true of you
based on your attire
or your obedience to them
will determine your eternal resting place.”

and had not the Lord
washed these big brown eyes with grace

i would still believe you

The greater pain.

I spent a couple of hours weeping today...hour drives to and from allow time for that. I’ve been confronted with some deep wounds this season and am reminding myself continually that the Lord’s intention of revealing is always to bring healing. So I brace myself; letting the waves of pain crash over me instead of bolting away in fear.


Throughout my entire childhood, I was hurt by men claiming to bear the name of Jesus but displaying none of His goodness, and I am afraid that I blocked out things then that I don’t want to see today. These men have left marks across the core of my womanhood in such a way that as I stand back to look at them with new eyes, I see that there are parts of me that are truly mangled. I feel raw and vulnerable, and I ache in such a way that sometimes I feel like my shoulders are physically pulled down and inward.


It’s a different pain...a greater pain...than the pain inflicted on me by men outside of the Body of Christ. That pain is far more bearable than this, because this pain is twisted in such a way that the men who wielded their weapons wore masks labeled “God” so as to create confusion about who was causing my pain. And the hammers used to pound me down did not just land upon my body or my soul but also upon my spirit.


In my mind, I look upon a little girl alone in a desert. So small and so confused about her worth, her position and her pain. Silent tears slide down her face, over lips pressed together, no longer willing to cry out. Barren landscapes on every side show there is no escape, no end in sight. She stands still, facing the first colors of a sunrise, daring to hope that light is coming.


And one of the reasons I wept is because of those rays beginning to peek over the horizon. God is so gentle and wonderfully kind; in this season of revealed wounds, He has surrounded me with good, godly men to take part in healing the pieces of me that have been broken by their own. And I am grateful for this, because I have known wholeness to melt away the pain of what has been twisted simply by being present. And sometimes when past pain feels so physical, visible strength and presence make for the best environment to not just heal, but to cause the redeemed heart to flourish.


----


"The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble bind on strength." 1 Samuel 2:4

To lack no good thing

I was talking with an older woman at family camp this past week; I asked her if there was a verse that she was leaning on through her season of suffering (her answer was Psalm 103) and I wanted to share the one that stands out to me lately.

Psalm 34:10 “The young lions suffer want and hunger; but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.”

To me this profoundly comforting. So many time in my seasons of suffering, loss and affliction, I find myself grieving. I grieve losses of persons, dreams, hopes, comforts, possibilities, dignity, strength, voice, relationship, health...whatever in those moments has been removed from me. And yet, as I stand before the Lord; seeking Him, looking to Him, clinging to Him, weeping to Him...poured out and raw before Him...I am confronted with this lovely truth in Psalm 34:10 and I know: No matter what I have lost in this world, I will leave my posture of prayer lacking “no good thing.”

Young lions are strong, powerful, full of possibility and life. They face their futures on top of the food chain and victories lie before them. Physically speaking, I do not relate. But this verse says, even they fail, even they need, even they will go without.

But I, in all my clumsiness and weakness, certainly qualify for the second half of this verse.

The word “seek” here is translated from the word “Darash,” which means to go to a place, to frequent it, to tread a place with your feet making a path, to go to one in prayer, to implore the aid of, to resort to.

This describes my walk with Jesus through my suffering. I have tread a path to Him in my need; I have crawled that path, run that path, trudged that path, laid upon that path, walked that path. I have frequented it; day after day or moment after moments...whatever is required. I have cast myself upon the Lord in my seeking; acknowledging Him as my Hope and my Help.

And this is why this verse brings me such comfort. Because no matter what my situations, circumstances or sin have robbed me of, they have no power to take from me even ONE good thing. The Lord is mine; all that He has promised me will come to me. And the losses in this life, the suffering, and even the strength of the lion are under His feet.