Lord, make me fearless in my obedience to you.

p. 63 in Man of Valor by Richard Exley (A great book!)

I can be such a coward at times.

Response to Anonymous (affectionately known as Mike C.)

Mike C. in a previous response asked about the reason for the season (dryness that is). The quick answer: only you and Father can truly address that.

Now if I may opine away. I will only reference myself for I can’t speak for others but if the shoe fits . . . My focus is often on the negative. I will say something like, “Thank you Father that I can enter Your presence,” and never go in. I believe for me in most cases the problem is with me and not with Father. I will say I’m the righteousness of God (based on what He said) but will not truly believe I can attain that nor live in His righteousness. I will say I can worship Him but will be stuck in asking Him to help me worship (give Him my heart). Father’s response is, “I already have helped you, enter into My rest.” Faith is action as Mike Lawrence so aptly pointed out in a previous response.

Oh look! A rabbit! Don’t you just love Mike’s openness? Using his full name as to say, “Here I am; this is who I am, without pretense and without shame.” I on the other hand, not even giving my last initial, hide in obscurity. Mike’s only fault is second guessing himself.

I believe that this is a relationship we are talking about. In relationship often we learn more about ourselves than the other. But too often, we (and thus meaning I) blame the other party. Now how can we blame God for not showing up at our scheduled appointment? I know I am there and God doesn’t seem to be there. So what happened? Has the Omniscient One forgotten? I think not. Could it be that we are not truly there? I am not trying to be confusing here or cute. If I approach Father but feel, just below the surface of cognition, I am unacceptable or that God really doesn’t want me there, how will this affect our relationship? If I think God just tolerates me, I will come as the beggar, fearful of His wrath and doubtful of His assistance. What this tells me is that the view I have of myself is not the view Father has of me. Oh; how we blame Father is that it is His unacceptance of us that causes our feelings of emptiness when we approach Him. Aren’t we clever beings? We can blame God to avoid blaming ourselves all the while with the pretense of being so pious as to confess sins we have not committed. Look how fat I am! Oh, you’re not fat, you’re lovely. Aren’t we noble? Aren’t we pridefully humble? Father is not impressed with our nobility. But He is not displeased with us. He just says come.

I think there are a multitude of reasons why we experience seasons of dryness. But even though I don’t always experience it, I believe there doesn’t have to be.

Underlying messages

As my day winds down and everyone is in bed, (I wrote this last night.) I reflect on my day and it dawns on me of a couple of failures. At the time I didn’t recognize them but later I am wounded with their memory. They were brought to remembrance by my Faithful Friend as I read a few pages before turning in. It’s fascinating how the brain works. It can be stirred by seemingly unrelated material and in an instance thought and emotion come rushing in – uhg!

Earlier today a faithful friend made me aware of an offence toward another that I was totally oblivious to . . . until he brought it up of course. Enter guilt. I can be so insensitive and intense that I step on others w/out thought. I had obviously talked down to a person at work without thought of my underlying message. What’s worse is I had to find out through a third party. (Thanks Eric.) I am so unapproachable is the message sent and received. So now I can enjoy the delicacy of crow. I’ve eaten it so much that I’m developing a taste for it. (I don’t even need ketchup anymore.) So first opportunity, I will apologize for my insensitive bumbling.

Now to the worst offense my Faithful Friend brought to my attention moments ago. Today, this morning, my son was pouring orange juice without stopping until juice was all over the table and the floor and my younger son’s left sock. He was doing a good deed and I scolded him for it, frustrated that I was inconvenienced for five minutes while I cleaned it up. Oh, did I say that today is his 6th birthday. (I can hear your thoughts. “What a monster” or/and “Should I call DFS?”) It wasn’t the scolding that was bad. I really don’t think I raised my voice. Worse . . . I conveyed a tone of disappointment with the underlying message, “You’re a screw up”, “You can’t do anything right”, “I disapprove of you”. Message sent and received like an e-mail you can’t recall. Now what does it really matter that sticky orange juice seeps between the cracks of the hardwood floors? It is easier to clean even if I pulled up the planks and re-sanded and re-stained than the seeping stickiness of the message I spilled on him – a message, my son unconsciously without ability to cognitively defuse (such trash and lies) received.

You see, it’s not the big things that are the real problems. They are relatively easy to deal with compared to the incessant dripping from the faucet of subtle negative messages we have drank from as well as poured overflowing into the glasses of others onto their left sock. I am so glad Father loves me enough to show me this. I could give you a list of parents (if it wouldn’t violate HIPPA regulations) who just don’t get it and the ones around them who suffer in silence unbeknownst as to why.

Mike's comment

Be sure to read Mike's comments from "Active faith . . . " and "Comment to Mike". Mike is a faithful friend who gives genuine dialog (life).

Kind begets kind

Mike’s comments have really resonated with me. They have stirred me to think differently about what moves me and how to describe it. For instance, I have been meditating on Ps. 33 for the past three weeks. It’s just stuck in my mind and I keep going back to it and unsure why. I keep staring at it like a puzzle expecting the solution will all of a sudden be revealed.

Verse 4 – “For the word of the Lord is upright, and all His work is done in faithfulness” – has been the main verse of late to stick in my crawl. I can intellectualize about this verse, connecting Father’s word and work which carries this theme for several more verses, but that doesn’t satisfy the spiritual hunger this verse has been causing me. So I ask myself, “Why does this verse speak to me?” Especially since I’m struggling through, “What it is saying?” What experiences have I gone through cause me to focus on this specific verse. With Father, I also have to ask, “Is He going to take me through some experiences in the near future that will answer these questions?” (The answer is probably both.) I don’t have the answers yet. However, when I meditate on Scripture this way it helps provide more substance than just a quick nifty – emotional experience.

Then it causes me to think of the author. What was David feeling when he wrote this? What experiences motivated him to write this? What was Father doing in his life at the time he wrote this? How did he experience and relate to Father?

As I wed the intellectual knowledge of the Word with my experience, I grow and the Word becomes a part of me. I believe it is an art to experience something from the hand of God, receive revelation, and then adequately describe it. Kind begets kind. Mind speaks to mind. Heart speaks to heart. Spirit speaks to spirit. Peace.

Comment to Mike (previous post)

Mike,

As always your "faithful wounds" help keep my focus. I have a tendency to intellectualize as a defense mechanism - I'm sure to protect me from exposing my weakness. My perfectionistic tendency cringes at exposure. This is the way "I bury my head in the sand." I act as if everything is ok but internally all the while worrying that my image will be tarnished - that is to appear weak. The context of my post was my 4 year old son's surgery (last Thursday) where there is a lot of uncertainty and possibility for things to go wrong. If I dwell on the negative things that could go wrong, I am robbed of peace. If I don't think about it at all or superficially say everything will be all right, or have a Que sera sera (Spanish for whatever will be will be) attitude, I am still no better off - I have no peace. When I have had active faith, I haven't ignored my worries but addressed them with Father. My experience is that I have peace to the degree I honestly and continually give my worries to Him. What is weird, sometimes I have peace and wonder why. I haven't jumped through the hoops but He is still faithful. It was like when Canaan was in the hospital after birth. We had an incrediable inexplainable, sustaining peace. So much so, they sent a social worker to talk to us. I wonder sometimes if I have grown so accustomed to His peace that I fail to recognize it and wonder what is wrong with me. After all, anybody in their right mind would be a nervous wreck about a four year old's back surgery.

Sometimes I am passive because I don't want to hear the Lord. If I hear Him then that makes me responsible. Currently, me and Holly are talking about having another child (well, she is talking about it). I have no specific word from the Lord, nor am I actively seeking it. It's not a matter of hearing so much as a matter of not listening. The bottom line is that Father is working on my handicap of having another child with a disability (back to the perfection issue). Now I've experienced complete grace for my son's spinabifida to the point others see and send a social worker. However, there is fear (opposite of faith) about having another child. There is the internal questioning of "do I have what it takes". My emotional programing feels weakness despite the truth. Father is dealing with me at core programing levels that require active faith - me seeking the word with a responsive attitude. Peace.

By the way, Canaan's surgery went very well and the doctors expect complete recovery of lost mobility. We are now safe and sound at home.