This week, my uncle passed away. The 3rd born child and oldest son of my maternal grandparents, his mother, who is 85, has outlived one of her four children. It was a shock that he was dead, when my aunt who found his body called me on Tuesday to say that he had passed away, but he had been facing health problems, certainly. He was only 64, just this past February. He was only 15 1/2 years older than me. He should be here when our grandmother passes away. In other words, things don't always happen in the order we expect them to happen. We don't get to determine the order of things. We just arrogantly think we do.
My grandmother had been told very recently by this uncle that he knew where things stood between him and the Lord. Without going into details, this was someone in our family whose status with the Lord was not as well known as others, so this was a blessing to us as we said goodbye to him here on earth, to know we will see him when we see the Lord.
When two of his three children came to Knoxville from Georgia, I felt led to share with one of his sons, Rob, that this conversation had taken place. He told me "you don't know how much comfort that gives me"... I thought I understood. I didn't.
The next day, three of the 7 "grand kids" (all 7 of us are over 38, but are still known as the kids), myself, Rick, the oldest son of my grandparents' youngest son, and Rob, the middle child of the one who had passed away, were on our grandmother's front porch, and immediately the conversation had gone to our walk with the Lord, when just Rick and I were there. Rob joined us and added his own flavor to the conversation.
We had discussed our beliefs about Salvation, Death and it's consequences, Heaven, Creation and Hell... somehow, the conversation turned to how we wanted to witness to our family and friends but that was the HARDEST thing to do. I tried to quote a Scripture about how "the prophet wasn't recognized in his home town" and we all got to telling how we had tried to share news with our parents or our siblings, etc, but felt that it was because they know our shortcomings and our failures, so sometimes the people we love the most are the ones God has to use others to reach... that is when Rob shared a story we all can relate to... He wanted to talk to his dad about the state of his soul. but could never get him to allow that conversation. When he was told that his father was, as we put it "ready to go", it was an answer to his prayers that the Lord would send someone to make sure that he knew the Lord or lead him there, if need be. We marveled, as a trio, at how God always answers our prayers, sometimes in the way we want, sometimes not. We shared in Rob's joy at not having to worry about his dad's soul,at not having to think this goodbye was eternal. We recognized that God loves all of us enough that He made sure Rob's heart was unburdened as much as it could be in that hour when he faced saying "goodbye for now" to his father, and that Rob didn't carry that guilt for the rest of his life for not having been able to have that conversation with his dad.
All of us agreed that there was someone in our lives we wanted to witness to, but their position in the family or their personalities, etc., made it so hard that we can't be the one to do the witnessing to them that we want to do. We are asking Him to send the right one to them, so that we don't have to wonder if they are Born Again.
For me, it was my father in law. The Lord laid it on my heart to ask this man who had beaten and abused his wives (plural) and his son, my husband, this man who had been alcoholic all his life, if he had had a moment when he had asked the Lord to come into his heart and be his Savior. I really wanted to, but I didn't want to offend him, newly born again Christian that I was, and I didn't want to be the one to tell him that without Jesus, he was bound for a devil's Hell. I didn't want to be the one to acknowledge what we all knew... his cancer was going to kill him in a matter of days, barring a miracle. I got into the elevator and prayed, "Lord, please send someone else... and if he lives until my next visit, I'll do it. I just couldn't do it tonight"... my father in law passed away three hours later. I have spent the last 24 years wondering if anyone went to him that night... I praise God that Rob didn't have to live with this as I do.. .
It made the three of us, Rick, Rob and myself, marvel at how our Father cares for us, how Grace gets us through anything. We had Church right there on Nanny's porch. We worshipped Him with our testimonies, with our concerns and with our sharing of encouragement to one another. We had a time!
I told my husband that night that, while I, the eldest grandchild, had known all of the younger ones all their lives, and loved them all, I felt that I had gotten to know them in a "primal" way that day.
What is funny, looking back, is that God allowed us privacy.. that front door had opened and closed a hundred thousand times in the past 24 hours, but it only opened once in those 2 to 21/2 hours we spent together... no one came out and interrupted us, no one came in to comfort the family, and this was NOT what we had been experiencing... God ordained our time together, and even though I am saddened at my uncle's death, I thank God that we had that time together as adults, to talk this through, that we go to know each other in that way, and that we agreed to get the other four "kids" as they still call us (the youngest is over 30, and I, the eldest am 49) together soon, so we can get to know each other better. As kids, we were all closer to one or the other, but now as adults, we each have things we can bring to the table. We are all so different, yet still the same... we are all adults, yet, in that setting, we are still ten years old, as Rick put it.
Rick and I share that "first born" feeling that we have to do everything in a certain way, Rob is the only middle child, since his father is the only sibling of the four to have 3 children. Teresa and I are the only girls. Some are financially sound, with no future worries, some of us not so much, some are married, some never, some divorced, etc... we have all these levels of common ground. We want to explore our family relationships before one of this generation has to leave.
In hindsight, this is a foretaste of things to come in Heaven... I always think of Heaven in the literal. I like to think of us sitting around on one of our mansion porches, telling the tales of how He brought us through this or that, sharing memories, laughing together as we reminisce, etc...
I like to think that in Heaven that "primal" bonding we shared will continue, and those angels who sat around us unseen this past Wed. will be visible and sit around in awe as we share our Salvation stories... they don't understand that experience, and I can picture them just watching us and trying to understand how important that moment was in our lives, as if we are the actors in a play and they, our audience.
I end this post with two challenges...
1) Sometime soon, your family may face death's call. Will someone in your family be worried that the loved one is suffering Hell, or is it certain that all of you will be reunited?
2) Do you connect with your loved ones occasionally and discover your differences and marvel at how different yet alike you are? Do you share your testimonies with them? If not, do it... it will more than likely start a chain of events that will forever change the dynamics of your family. It will most certainly bring Glory to the One who wants us to share Him with the world... including our families.
It is His will that NONE should perish... don't be like me, wondering until that day if you were the last chance someone had to meet Him, but be sure that those you love are taken care of.
If a house were on fire and the person you most fear witnessing to were in it or about to go into it, would you rescue them or stop their entry? Of course... we all would... Hell is that burning place, and we are allowing people we love to just go on in. We don't even try to stop them. WHY? Will you have the Boldness, the Love, to stop them?
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
Restoration
November, 2010..
I was so happy. I had received a "Word" from a Sister in Christ,and later in the day, Confirmation from a Brother in Christ! God was putting me into a new Minsitry, and I was going to be Restored! I was so excited! I was so very happy, so anxious to start anew. I just knew I was going to be singing again, Ministering His Word to others, sharing His love with the world again! I had waited SO LONG!
Whoa, whoa... put the brakes on there....
When God gives us a Word, we are NEVER in control... it is usually the polar opposite of what we thought it was going to be... He never said that we would be given the desires of our heart in the way that WE imagined it. He simply said that HE would give them to us, if we follow Him, serve Him, worship Him with all our hearts, souls, minds and strength.
Fast forward to Feb, 2011.
My granddaughter was born, my daughter was sick during the delivery, my grandson was staying with us while his mom and stepdad got settled in with the new baby, and he was sick. I began feeling sick. I couldn't be sick... I had Sunday School to teach, Messages to Prepare, Songs to work on for Praise and Worship, and a Bible Study to lead, all at our Church, except the Bible Study, which was at home.
I developed double pneumonia, (with no insurance) and the fight was on... I had to miss six consecutive weeks of Church. The odd thing was, no one called to see if I was dead or alive. No worries, Gary was keeping the up to date. I felt so guilty, not being there to lead P&W. I hated that my SS class was having to join up with another class because we had such a small Church, (less than 30 people during the time we were searching for a pastor) and no one else would teach.
I hated that I wouldn't be able to keep my word and deliver the messages on those Sundays I had been scheduled to speak, but I'd make it up to them, as soon as the Lord healed me.
IT TOOK MONTHS!None of the antibiotics and medications worked. I had developed an immunity to the traditional treatments. I couldn't shake the pneumonia... if only I could get to Church.
I got to attend one service, the first for my Granddaughter. I got to show her off, love on her, ask the Body to pray for me and for Lelina, the baby, who just wasn't well.. no one knew what it was that made her sick, but she was a sick little baby. She wore her newborn clothes until mid summer, in fact...
it turned out that she had a blood infection and once that was cured, she was good to go! No one called...
Fast forward to Easter. I was back at Church, and it was requested that I sing. I didn't know if I could, but I was willing to try. The Person in charge said, "no, there are going to be no more specials", it just takes up too much time during the service. (Later, I was told by my husband that this same person had told him that he just didn't want me to sing anymore, but not until much later) But on Easter, that same man got up and sung, a lady from the congregation got up and sung an impromptu medley and then the husband/wife team who had worked with me on Praise and Worship sang two songs.
I was so hurt that it was only me who couldnt sing anymore, but I figured it was because they were upset that I had missed so much since Feb. 1st and it would pass.
I went in the next Sunday, and it was just me and a visitor I had brought to Church in my SS class.. I figured those who had been joining in with the other class just didnt' know I had planned to start again, so I went on in again the next week... no one was there...
This went on for a few weeks until I finally asked if anyone was coming back to my class. I had to prepare lessons, etc...I was told by one member of the class that the same man who didn't want me singing had decided she shouldn't be in my class and had told her so.
Well, for three weeks, I just went in, moving closer and closer to the back row. (I had sat on the very front pew for years!) Then, two Sundays before Mother's Day, I went in and sat down, and who do you think came out of my SS classroom? The very man who said I shouldn't sing, the people he had spoken to in my absence and the rest of the adults in the Church... they had effectively moved me out.
I left, in tears, and the sound man, whom I had considered a very close friend, followed after me, laughing, literally out loud. My daughter came out of her SS class, saw me leave, heard him laughing and asked why, and was told "she finally cracked and left"... what a blow to my heart this was...
I spent the next few weeks searching, alone, for a Church. My husband felt that since he was on the Board of Directors, on the Pulpit Committee, he should see his committment through. I felt so betrayed, as if they were having a "let's all bash Anita" meeting every Sunday, and my husband was attending.
I begged him to pray and ask God to allow him to leave. He did, said he didn't have permission from God and stayed, until they found a pastor, three to four months later. In the meantime, we worshipped apart.
Finally, when the new pastor came, he called my husband and asked him a few questions which led my husband to believe that those who had literally chased me out of the Church had been talking about us. It seemed they wanted reassurance that I wouldn't be back, and that Gary would be leaving now, as well. Gary told the pastor he would be praying for the Church, and that if there ever came a time when the Lord was allowed to lead again, we may come back, but not in the interim. The new pastor simply told my husband that those very people were the ones who bought his lunch every Sunday, had remodelled the parsonage (we had done the work, too, but didn't say anything) and had made him feel welcome, so he "didn't want to cross them"... Gary told him he would pray for the Church... end of story.
Well, this is the Church that was so in tune with the Holy Spirit... the Church where miracles happened left and right to people who had been told they were dying , and not once in the last four months we were there, was there even an altar service. So sad!
What we learned, after hearing tale after tale from this person and that person, is that when a person who serves God is put into a position of authority, Satan can use them as easily as God, and it has to be a conscius effort on the part of that person to stay in tune with GOD'S voice...
What I have learned as my heart has been trampled, as I've had dreams, nightmares really, of running into these people and being attacked by them, is that I HAVE been restored...
I had to be taken to a place where I had to take a stand and walk away from my comfort zone (my home Church) and I had to learn to worship with strangers, as the man in the Old Testament who was told to "leave his Home and his kindred" and go into a land the he knew not...
In order to restore something, such as an antique piece of furniture or an antique car, you have to take off all the polish and the paint, and take the piece down to its barest state, exposed, vulnerable... and you have to remake it into what it is going to be.
In the 9 months since I left my home, I have attended services in 25 different Churches, Worship Centers and Gatherings... none of them feel like I felt prior to this experience, when our family was welcome and loved... we were family in these new places, but it felt like attending a reunion of your grandmother's family... related but unacquainted, welcomed but separate.
No place yet has felt like home, and I still miss my lifelong place of Worship, but I have been remodelled.. I have a new paint job, there has been some shoring up of my walk, some strengthening of my Spirit as a result of Prayer, Bible Study, conversations with Brothers and Sisters of like faith, and there has been a new and stronger foundation in my relationship with him.
I was accused of all kinds of things during this time, by people I trusted more than some of my family members. I felt so betrayed. I felt so wounded. I felt so angry.. but God used this time to soften my heart and force me to see them as He does...
He sees ALL OUR hearts and sees the good in us, not the ugly things we do to each other. He sees our offerings of worship, our love for Him... even when we have wronged others. He loves them, even though He has assured me that He saw what they did, and He wasn't pleased. But He has commanded me to love them as He does... unconditionally.
As I learned to do this, He has added coats of paint, shined me up, and RESTORED me. I look better (figuratively speaking) than I ever did in my original state. Like an antique car, which was lovely in it's newly purchased state, but takes on a new and precious life when restored by someone who takes loving care to make it into a new creature... doesn't that sound like what He does with us when we trust Him? And when we turn again and again to Him for Restoration?
SO, next time someone says "I have a word for you from the Lord, Anita"... I won't try and decide for Him what He meant. Sometimes it hurts to be Restored.
I was so happy. I had received a "Word" from a Sister in Christ,and later in the day, Confirmation from a Brother in Christ! God was putting me into a new Minsitry, and I was going to be Restored! I was so excited! I was so very happy, so anxious to start anew. I just knew I was going to be singing again, Ministering His Word to others, sharing His love with the world again! I had waited SO LONG!
Whoa, whoa... put the brakes on there....
When God gives us a Word, we are NEVER in control... it is usually the polar opposite of what we thought it was going to be... He never said that we would be given the desires of our heart in the way that WE imagined it. He simply said that HE would give them to us, if we follow Him, serve Him, worship Him with all our hearts, souls, minds and strength.
Fast forward to Feb, 2011.
My granddaughter was born, my daughter was sick during the delivery, my grandson was staying with us while his mom and stepdad got settled in with the new baby, and he was sick. I began feeling sick. I couldn't be sick... I had Sunday School to teach, Messages to Prepare, Songs to work on for Praise and Worship, and a Bible Study to lead, all at our Church, except the Bible Study, which was at home.
I developed double pneumonia, (with no insurance) and the fight was on... I had to miss six consecutive weeks of Church. The odd thing was, no one called to see if I was dead or alive. No worries, Gary was keeping the up to date. I felt so guilty, not being there to lead P&W. I hated that my SS class was having to join up with another class because we had such a small Church, (less than 30 people during the time we were searching for a pastor) and no one else would teach.
I hated that I wouldn't be able to keep my word and deliver the messages on those Sundays I had been scheduled to speak, but I'd make it up to them, as soon as the Lord healed me.
IT TOOK MONTHS!None of the antibiotics and medications worked. I had developed an immunity to the traditional treatments. I couldn't shake the pneumonia... if only I could get to Church.
I got to attend one service, the first for my Granddaughter. I got to show her off, love on her, ask the Body to pray for me and for Lelina, the baby, who just wasn't well.. no one knew what it was that made her sick, but she was a sick little baby. She wore her newborn clothes until mid summer, in fact...
it turned out that she had a blood infection and once that was cured, she was good to go! No one called...
Fast forward to Easter. I was back at Church, and it was requested that I sing. I didn't know if I could, but I was willing to try. The Person in charge said, "no, there are going to be no more specials", it just takes up too much time during the service. (Later, I was told by my husband that this same person had told him that he just didn't want me to sing anymore, but not until much later) But on Easter, that same man got up and sung, a lady from the congregation got up and sung an impromptu medley and then the husband/wife team who had worked with me on Praise and Worship sang two songs.
I was so hurt that it was only me who couldnt sing anymore, but I figured it was because they were upset that I had missed so much since Feb. 1st and it would pass.
I went in the next Sunday, and it was just me and a visitor I had brought to Church in my SS class.. I figured those who had been joining in with the other class just didnt' know I had planned to start again, so I went on in again the next week... no one was there...
This went on for a few weeks until I finally asked if anyone was coming back to my class. I had to prepare lessons, etc...I was told by one member of the class that the same man who didn't want me singing had decided she shouldn't be in my class and had told her so.
Well, for three weeks, I just went in, moving closer and closer to the back row. (I had sat on the very front pew for years!) Then, two Sundays before Mother's Day, I went in and sat down, and who do you think came out of my SS classroom? The very man who said I shouldn't sing, the people he had spoken to in my absence and the rest of the adults in the Church... they had effectively moved me out.
I left, in tears, and the sound man, whom I had considered a very close friend, followed after me, laughing, literally out loud. My daughter came out of her SS class, saw me leave, heard him laughing and asked why, and was told "she finally cracked and left"... what a blow to my heart this was...
I spent the next few weeks searching, alone, for a Church. My husband felt that since he was on the Board of Directors, on the Pulpit Committee, he should see his committment through. I felt so betrayed, as if they were having a "let's all bash Anita" meeting every Sunday, and my husband was attending.
I begged him to pray and ask God to allow him to leave. He did, said he didn't have permission from God and stayed, until they found a pastor, three to four months later. In the meantime, we worshipped apart.
Finally, when the new pastor came, he called my husband and asked him a few questions which led my husband to believe that those who had literally chased me out of the Church had been talking about us. It seemed they wanted reassurance that I wouldn't be back, and that Gary would be leaving now, as well. Gary told the pastor he would be praying for the Church, and that if there ever came a time when the Lord was allowed to lead again, we may come back, but not in the interim. The new pastor simply told my husband that those very people were the ones who bought his lunch every Sunday, had remodelled the parsonage (we had done the work, too, but didn't say anything) and had made him feel welcome, so he "didn't want to cross them"... Gary told him he would pray for the Church... end of story.
Well, this is the Church that was so in tune with the Holy Spirit... the Church where miracles happened left and right to people who had been told they were dying , and not once in the last four months we were there, was there even an altar service. So sad!
What we learned, after hearing tale after tale from this person and that person, is that when a person who serves God is put into a position of authority, Satan can use them as easily as God, and it has to be a conscius effort on the part of that person to stay in tune with GOD'S voice...
What I have learned as my heart has been trampled, as I've had dreams, nightmares really, of running into these people and being attacked by them, is that I HAVE been restored...
I had to be taken to a place where I had to take a stand and walk away from my comfort zone (my home Church) and I had to learn to worship with strangers, as the man in the Old Testament who was told to "leave his Home and his kindred" and go into a land the he knew not...
In order to restore something, such as an antique piece of furniture or an antique car, you have to take off all the polish and the paint, and take the piece down to its barest state, exposed, vulnerable... and you have to remake it into what it is going to be.
In the 9 months since I left my home, I have attended services in 25 different Churches, Worship Centers and Gatherings... none of them feel like I felt prior to this experience, when our family was welcome and loved... we were family in these new places, but it felt like attending a reunion of your grandmother's family... related but unacquainted, welcomed but separate.
No place yet has felt like home, and I still miss my lifelong place of Worship, but I have been remodelled.. I have a new paint job, there has been some shoring up of my walk, some strengthening of my Spirit as a result of Prayer, Bible Study, conversations with Brothers and Sisters of like faith, and there has been a new and stronger foundation in my relationship with him.
I was accused of all kinds of things during this time, by people I trusted more than some of my family members. I felt so betrayed. I felt so wounded. I felt so angry.. but God used this time to soften my heart and force me to see them as He does...
He sees ALL OUR hearts and sees the good in us, not the ugly things we do to each other. He sees our offerings of worship, our love for Him... even when we have wronged others. He loves them, even though He has assured me that He saw what they did, and He wasn't pleased. But He has commanded me to love them as He does... unconditionally.
As I learned to do this, He has added coats of paint, shined me up, and RESTORED me. I look better (figuratively speaking) than I ever did in my original state. Like an antique car, which was lovely in it's newly purchased state, but takes on a new and precious life when restored by someone who takes loving care to make it into a new creature... doesn't that sound like what He does with us when we trust Him? And when we turn again and again to Him for Restoration?
SO, next time someone says "I have a word for you from the Lord, Anita"... I won't try and decide for Him what He meant. Sometimes it hurts to be Restored.
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