Be Magnified

I woke up singing this song, today: "When you're up against a struggle, that shatters all your dreams, and your hopes have been cruelly crushed by Satan's manifested schemes, and you feel the urge within you to submit to earthly fear, don't let the faith you're standing in seem to disappear. Praise the Lord; He will work through those who praise Him. Praise the Lord, for our God inhabits praise. Praise the Lord; for the chains that seem to bind you serve only to remind you that they drop powerless behind you when you praise Him. Now, Satan is a liar and he wants to make us think that we are paupers, when he knows himself we're children of the King.

So, lift up the mighty shield of faith for the battle must be won. We know that Jesus Christ has risen and the work's already done. Praise the Lord; He will work through those who praise Him.

Praise the Lord; for our God inhabits praise. Praise the Lord; for the chains that seem to bind you serve only to remind you that they drop powerless behind you when you praise Him. When you praise Him...When you praise, you praise the Lord. Praise the Lord."

The more I live, the more I see that the monsters we feared in our closets and under our beds are real, and are all around us.  They are more frightening than any we could have made up as children; they are nearer, and the most frightening part of all is, they live among us.  And because many times, they are even IN us if we are not careful--jealousy; selfishness; stubbornness; insecurity; rage--it becomes harder and harder, at times, to tell the good from the bad and the right from the wrong the older and more "set in our ways" we grow.  But just as the monsters are real, so are the heroes: they, too, live among us, and in us, and we meet them and ARE them every day: kindness; compassion; mercy; forgiveness; laying our lives down for those around us regardless of what we receive in return.  Each day we make a choice: to defeat the monsters or become them.  We are defined by what we tolerate and allow to grow...as individuals; as couples; as families; as churches; as nations and leaders and "heads of State."  As children, we knew that nothing could happen once the monsters were "chased" out of the closet, and beds properly checked; the darkness was kept out, and we slept in the security of knowing those in authority over us would keep us safe (at least, in an "ideal" world; I know that, for many, the reality was the opposite for the same reasons explored, here).  We grow, and we forget that things were simple: that bad is bad, and good is good; we allow fears to creep into our hearts and mold us with each circumstance; we forget what we once longed for and what we once believed.

Do you remember singing in the dark at the top of your lungs as children?  Do you remember holding the hand of someone you loved, and feeling the "safety" come back?  If you never experienced that, do you remember the longing, and can you imagine it, here?  There is so much going on in our world.  I'm reminded of it, daily, in the people I counsel and the situations I step into to intervene as situations allow.  From Thailand to Tahiti, there are dangers, and hurt, and violence, and oppression--if not seen on a national scale, in homes, behind closed doors.  Children are left alone; the penniless wait for answers; the sick are waiting on healing; heartaches, and loneliness, and despair so dark it outshines any darkness we once faced under our beds is becoming apparent and real in our "grown-up" worlds.  And, yet, there is a light.  There is, yet, goodness.  Habakkuk, when faced with situations graver than we will ever know--even in our modern world--said, "Put your trust in God, for I will YET praise Him."  Somehow, if inside of us, we hold onto freedom, and life, and love, and truth, and do not let the light go out, if we continue to believe that God is good, and that He will not leave us, His love is a blanket that wraps around us no matter how harshly the winds may  blow.  Though we may still weep, and grieve the losses and the "waiting," we realize that we are not alone; there is a Hand holding ours keeping us, yet, in "safety" no matter what the day may bring.  Like children, we can lift our voices and praise Him; we can magnify Him and trust Him until that trust brings rest to our minds, and shows us a course of action.  And when there is no action that can be taken--no course that can be run--we wait in His arms knowing that He is still good.  He has overcome the darkness.  He has made a world this world cannot touch, and has promised to take us, there.  We can be like those of Hebrews 11, who in spite of all threats of violence, held onto a world they saw with distant eyes, and found courage when there was no courage to be found. They stated plainly that they were citizens of a Kingdom never shaken; even in laying down their lives to stand for Truth and Life, they won.  Their legacy remains.  The monsters of their time could not erase the light those courageous people shone, and so, too, are we if we refuse to bow before fear and despair.  May we love with all that is in us; may we sow goodness, and kindness, and freedom, and stand against the darkness.  And may the world hear, each day, as we lie down to rest, a song.  With voices that shake, perhaps, but voices that cannot stop trusting in the One who knows our frame, may we lie down each night praising His Name.  He is good.  He is with us.  He HAS won.  And THAT will give us courage when we awaken, again, each next day.

The Incurable Wound

I read an article, this morning, about the "incurable wound," and went to research it.  I've been thinking so much, lately about wounds: wounds we have; wounds we cause; wounds that are caused by our refusing to let God touch those hidden, bleeding places.  What happens when someone with a genuine wound is discarded and thrown away because they are seen as "weak" or "damaged"?  And on the opposite scale, what happens when someone refuses to let that wound be healed, and it begins to ooze, and fester, and "damage" those around them (anger; pride; violence; coarse jesting; belittling; manipulating; hatred; sexual sin)?  Should those who love them stay and be destroyed, or call out to those wounded from a place where they can be made whole?  In a battle, we treat those who are wounded; we treat them with compassion and love; we do all we can to see them restored and "in the fight" again; we try to help them make it home.  We "leave no man behind."  And, in a battle, due to the critical nature of time and the needs of others awaiting care, if someone refuses treatment--is happy with the wound and pretends that nothing is wrong--we can't do anything else but hope they let us help them, and begin to treat the ones we can.
As I looked at "incurable wounds," I saw that in each instance, the Lord answered that sin had made the wound "incurable", but that, really, He was able (and longing) to heal.  In my mind, I found several unanswered questions before this information.  Does our own sin cause all our wounds?  What about Job and Jeremiah?  God gave them the same reply, and yet, Job was hailed as a "righteous" man, and Jeremiah was God's spokesperson to Israel.  How could sin have made their wounds incurable?  
James says that sin is knowing what is right to do, and not doing it; Micah 6:8 says, "He has told you, oh man, what is good: but to do justice; to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."  Is it possible that we can do everything "right", and fail in the face of others' sins and weakness towards us?  Is it possible that, just as Matthew 24 states, after brother betrays brother, "the love of many grows cold"?  Is it possible that, when Jeremiah cried out in Jeremiah 15, he had become disillusioned at speaking over and over, again, to the people of Israel only to see them throw his warnings back at him and turn his concerns into ridicule and persecution (even throwing Jeremiah in jail accusing him of treachery and betrayal)?  Could his heart have become discouraged and broken at feeling rejected daily, and seeing nothing change around him?  Could others' sins have made him hard? He cries out in Jeremiah 18, "Would that I had never been born!"  With Job, also, Job despairs of life, and cries out, "All that I feared has come upon me."
I think of those in persecution who pray for their captors: who sing with tears streaming down battered faces; who lift broken hands to bless and never despise, and how the same voices that cry out without shame against sin and injustice--never excusing the sin--pray for those who have fallen.  In our own trials and afflictions, we, rather, cry out like Job, "I KNEW it!  All I feared has come upon me; like Jeremiah, 'my wound is incurable.'"
Could it be that the sins of others can have an affect upon our hearts; rather than standing for truth, and righteousness, and freedom, we become involved in a "campaign"; someone must pay; someone must answer for the hurt I am walking through?  Or in fear of being judged, we refuse to speak out when others are belittled; we lay burdens on them ("YOU must be perfect; YOU must do more"), and refuse to listen when they point out genuine oppression. And in either extreme, in those moments, we, too, open doors, because our hearts move far away from kindness (hating the sin, and speaking against it, but never letting our voices rise in rage or violence; lovingly pointing out those obvious things that break God's heart even as we stoop to wash the feet of those who have walked in those paths of "filthiness"; knowing we all are capable of failure; seeing others through God's eyes of love while never compromising the truth).  If we allow ourselves to focus on all that is wrong, instead of continually turning our eyes back to Jesus--speaking only against what breaks His heart, but never trying to "break" others or "make them" listen to us, we will fall...every time.
Jeremiah cried out: "Why is my pain perpetual and my wound incurable, which refuses to be healed?  Will You surely be to me like an unreliable stream, as waters that fail?  (then, the Lord reassures Jeremiah) "If you return, then I will bring you back; you shall stand before Me, if you separate the precious from the vile, you shall be as My mouth.  Let them return to you, but you must not return to them.  And I will make you to this people a fortified bronze wall; and they will fight against you, but they will not prevail against you.  For I am with you to save and deliver you.  I WILL deliver you from the hand of the wicked, and I WILL redeem you from the grip of the terrible."  Jeremiah was not to seek others' approval, or even for them to listen to him; he was not to mix his personality and his opinions with God's, and not to refuse to call others' to repent for OBVIOUS sins over fear of what they might say or that he could seem "quarrelsome." This can get confusing, but we should keep clear in our hearts that Jesus didn't scold people for not praying or reading the Scriptures--He called everyone to walk with Him; to know Him; to receive His love and put His opinions first; He never quarreled or broke those who were already broken, but He called them to lay aside those things that were bringing death to them and separating them from God.  We must--by our lives--show others' God's love; refuse to compromise in the face of sin and say, "oh, it's okay, don't worry about it," but at the same time, not make our focus OTHER'S walk with God, but be willing, when we're in a position to speak, and see sin played out before us, to call those individuals to lay those sins aside and let God bring new life.  We must make worship of God our goal, and out of that place, walk in kindness, speaking up for what is "just" and "noble" and "honorable" and "right." Not seeking to control others, but to bless them and bring them freedom at every turn (which means, at times, not allowing ourselves to be abused or drawn into hiding sin, so that we can still stand for freedom). And, God will be with us.
In Isaiah, God says, "Even in your old age, I will be the same, and even in your graying years, I will yet carry you!  I have done it, and I shall carry you, and I will sustain you; I shall deliver you" (Isaiah 46:4).

I think about these things, and I think about our own lives.  It is noble to stand against unrighteousness; it is honorable to stand against the "vile", and stand for purity, honesty, truth, freedom, love, closeness with God.  But when others' opinions (that they MUST hear me; that they MUST pay for my loneliness, or hurt, or fear, or betrayal); when my need to be heard creeps in and takes over, I lose sight of what is truly important: God cares for me.  If He has called me to speak, His love will be enough; there will be no "desperation"; no violence; no hatred; no vengeance; no control; no drowning out or suffocating others' rights to speak in my speaking.  There will only be love, and tears, and compassion over obvious wounds in the Body of Christ--obvious sins that are festering coming from lies individuals have believed, and compromise that has been allowed to separate those individuals from God.  But we will stoop, not stomp--we will gently wash with the water of the Word--seeking healing and deliverance and restoration for those individuals: not "skipping steps" or "glossing over" the damage that has been done, but speaking with compassion, as if we were the ones who fell; standing with them as they choose to let God heal them, but calling them to be made whole.  There are those painful times, as with Jeremiah and Isaiah, where we realize that others will not be made whole; then we must love them, and pray for them, but walk away and refuse to be drawn in to those same sins; we must not become bitter, or hardened, or judgmental, or feel betrayed, but say like David, "How the mighty have fallen in Israel"; we do not stand still and let their spears go in (not hiding truth or refusing to speak it), but we weep with compassion and pain at wounds that will not be made whole.
Let us separate the precious from the vile.  Let us not call darkness light; let us not say that speaking out against sin is "gossip" or needing root issues to be addressed is being "cruel".  Let us not say that our haughty, judging, "I know better" attitudes is calling others to righteousness in gray areas where they MUST know freedom to make their own decisions; let us not say that gently speaking against injustice and blatant sin (immorality; theft; control, etc.) is refusing to love.  Let us not manipulate others to see as WE see, lest our own wounds become incurable and our fears become multiplied, but let us be ever ready to speak out against injustice and compromise knowing that, if everyone else fails us, God will love us and heal our broken hearts.  Let us keep our eyes on Jesus; let us love as He loved; let us see as He sees; let us not make our opinions the goal, but, rather, seek daily to walk as He walked--willing to lay our lives down for others and longing to see their wounds cured.  May we let our hearts break before we would reach out and wound others; let us know that wounding, at times, is in refusal to speak up at what is right before us; at what God wants to remove so that others can know Him (again, obvious sins, not our own perceptions). "Good things as well as bad, you know, are caught by a kind of infection. If you want to get warm you must stand near the fire: if you want to be wet you must get into the water. If you want joy, power, peace, eternal life, you must get close to, or even into, the thing that has them. They are not a sort of prize which God could, if He chose, just hand out to anyone. They are a great fountain of energy and beauty spurting up at the very centre of reality. If you are close to it, the spray will wet you: if you are not, you will remain dry. Once a man is united to God, how could he not live forever?" --C.S. Lewis

Courage Cont....

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” ― Nelson Mandela
2 Corinthians 10:4-5 says, "For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal (earthly; weak; dependent on my state of emotions or desires), but MIGHTY in God for the tearing down of strongholds (places where my mind has become "entrenched"; places in my thoughts where darkness, and terror, and oppression hide) and arguments (those lies that seem so real and fight for me to stay in the places that feel familiar versus what brings truth and life) and every high and lofty thing (stubbornness; foolish pride) that exalts itself against the knowledge (intimacy; trust; faith in) Christ."
I read the most amazing quote, yesterday.  August Wilson once said, "

Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing.” In all of these verses and quotes, the message is the same.  There is a wrestling that must come if truth is to win out over the lies that we often tell ourselves.  From birth until about 6, everything we will believe about the world becomes solid in our minds, and begins to feel real to our hearts, and everything we encounter later in life is filtered through this knowledge.  For example, just as we learn what is "acceptable" in social settings ("Don't slouch;" "Pick up your things"; "Don't embarrass us"), we learn what is "acceptable" to think and feel ("Boys don't cry"; "Don't be ridiculous"; "How can you even think that?").  Slowly, we set aside things like freedom and faith, and learn, rather, to be cautious and successful; we learn how to sound "wise."  There is something to be said for not speaking out of anger--for setting aside behavior and speech that can hurt those around us (belittling; back-biting; slander; hatred; rage).  As we grow in truth and love, though, those things naturally fall away from us: we cannot walk in truth and freedom--letting God's love fill our hearts, and not feel a natural tendency towards walking in love and freedom with those around us.
So, I'm not speaking, here, of giving ourselves permission to become selfish, or shallow, or boastful, or rude, but, rather, to face the fears that cause those same attitudes in our hearts.  How many people around the world hear over and over again in their minds, "You are nothing.  You're doing things all wrong.  You'll never fit in.  You're so different from everyone.  There's something wrong with you"?  We are harder on ourselves than others will ever be, and we don't realize that the voice we allow to whisper all day long, while it feels as familiar as our own, comes from something else: something hiding in a stronghold in our minds; something that has become a part of us, but like a parasite, must be triumphed over and sent along its way.  Those arguments--those fears--those "high places" where we feel so sure of what we see and "know" are what keep us from stepping out and becoming who we were always meant to be.  Doctors; teachers; lawyers; janitors; graduates; drop-outs; out-going; shy: how differently would we tackle those dreams inside of us if we were no longer so aware of others watching?  If there were no longer a fear of failure and being "judged"...if we were able to accept criticism, and let it hone our skills and make us stronger, but never let it cause us to doubt what we were born to do, how differently would we live our lives?

So, how do we get to that place?  We wrestle!  "Do not go quietly into that good night, but rage, rage against the dying of the light."  With all that is inside of us, we learn who God is, and what He thinks about us, and we slowly begin to whisper those things to ourselves throughout the day.  In resisting the enemy (who is not flesh nor blood), we grow strong, and there comes a time where we are not simply "resisting", but "maintaining"; then, not simply "maintaining," but "taking ground"; then not simply "taking ground", but soaring out over the circumstances secure in the hope of our calling: believing that God is with us and even in failure, will cause us to overcome.  We must sow so that we can reap...sow thoughts of peace, and trust, and life, and joy, and there will come a time where--just as when we were small and growing in our beliefs about the world through what others told us, we begin to believe in our hearts those new "truths" we are speaking.  "I can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me."  "I am loved and highly favored."  "The King of the Universe knows my name, and walks with me."  "Even if my own father and mother reject me, with all this, the Lord will stand by me."  "He is changing me daily into His image; I give HIM permission to change me and I work with what He asks me to do...I don't have to 'help' by telling Him what to change."  Perfect love casts out fear.  His love is perfect; it will always be enough.  

This is a call to "war"; a call to "wrestle"; a call to push against the lies, and consciously speak truth: He loves us.  All fear must go.  All doubt must go.  He will never leave us.  He will never forsake us.  And that's all we need to know.

"In your presence; that´s where I am strong: in Your presence, O Lord, my God.
In Your presence; that´s where I belong: seeking Your face; touching Your grace
In the cleft of the Rock...in Your presence O God.
I want to go where the rivers cannot overflow me; where my feet are on the Rock.
I want to hide where the blazing fire cannot burn me; in your presence O God.
I want to hide where the flood of evil cannot reach me: where I´m covered by the blood.
I want to be where the schemes of darkness cannot touch me; in Your presence O God.
You are my firm foundation. I trust in You all day long.
I am Your child and Your servant, and you are my Strength and my Song. You´re my Song.
Seeking Your face; touching Your grace in the cleft of the Rock.
In Your presence O God. In Your presence. In Your presence O God."
Isaiah 8:12 says, "Do not call conspiracy everything this people calls a conspiracy and do not fear what they fear."  (NIV)
Judges 6:10 (NKJV) says, "Do not fear the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell."
I have known, and sensed, and seen from the time that I was small that to fear is to worship.  When I fear something, I say that whatever I fear is the largest thing that exists: that nothing is bigger or able to stop it.  I therefore worship that thing, in the sense that it becomes magnified in my life.  That's why I love this song: "I want to hide where the flood of evil cannot reach me: where I'm covered by the blood."  There is a place in the Lord where I hide all that I am and all that I hope to be, and nothing can destroy my trust in Him.  I watched a movie the other night where the lead actor says, "Do not be mistaken.  Danger is real.  Fear is not."
Fear--dreading what will come; creating in my head the scenarios I'm afraid to see play out--will in and of themselves paralyze me and cause an affect far greater than what the scenario itself could cause.  "How do I then become unafraid?" is our cry.  How to stop the tape that plays over and over in our heads?  If fear acts as faith (speaking what will be, and many times bringing those things which I fear to pass by affecting how I operate), then I must have faith in something even greater, and let THAT be the tape which plays constantly in my head.
  "Perfect love casts out fear." Therein lies the answer.  We must become so in love with Him--so secure in His Presence, that we trust that there is nothing that can come where He will not stand by us.  There is no circumstance that can alter His love or His care.  He has thought of everything--taken each factor into account--and He is walking beside me.  What, then, should I be afraid of?  Famine; nakedness; peril; loss; illness; pain; persecution; even death: He has taken them all into consideration and overcome them all.  Even in death, He has provided the ultimate victory; there is nothing that can win as long as, deep inside myself, I do not let the worship of His greatness stop; I do not allow myself to become focused on other, lesser "gods."  They are powerless to save, and even more powerless to destroy; the Creator of all the Universe knows my name, and loves me, and will make a way for me at every step.  No matter what happens around me, in His love, even in death, in Him, I've won.

In this same movie, there were creatures that could only find the humans through the human fear.  As long as the person remained calm, that person remained invisible.  I want to confuse the devil.  I want him to stop and listen for my tears, and faint away at hearing a song that no scheme of hell can silence.  I want my every breath, even in my weeping, to worship Him; I want there to be no doubt, at any moment, in Whom I have put my trust.  This doesn't mean that we will not have trials or tribulations, or that they will not take our breath away, at times.  But even breathless, let us wait, and trust, and hope and praise.  He is faithful, and He will ever faithful be.  And that....is enough.