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Heart to Heart: A pen for every season

It took becoming sick to teach me how to talk to God. Lyme, pain, a pen and paper were a few of the choice tools God used to draw me closer to Jesus.

At first, I was resistant. Or, more accurately, I was distracted. The illness was my all-consuming obsession. I was fixated on symptoms, possible causes and an accurate diagnosis. The only time I picked up a pen was to write my medical history in a doctor’s office.

But then something shifted.

The sickness didn’t go away. It remitted – briefly – but then it got worse – much worse. I lost all control of my body and no amount of research could get it back again. Failed attempts at doctoring left me feeling misunderstood. I desperately wanted someone to listen, care and get what I was going through. I needed to vent, be real and know I wasn’t alone.

But what I truly needed most was help from on high; aid from the Great Physician who could carry me through the mystery that had become my life.

Although I had come to know Jesus years before my illness began, I didn’t know how to actually be in a relationship with Him. I had yet to rely on Him fully and in complete dependence. I was saved but I wasn’t walking with my Savior step-by-step and hand-in-hand. Jesus was definitely my friend, but He wasn’t my bestie.

But sickness changed that.

The seed of change that was my need took root in a pen. Writing was God’s gift to me – a communication method that helped me disconnect from the world around me and reconnect with His Spirit. Although the pen and paper, in and of themselves, weren’t the salvation, they were a vital tool God used to deepen and strengthen my relationship with Jesus.

After almost a decade of writing, I have accumulated boxes of notecards, stacks of journals and numerous files on my computer’s hard drive. Every word (some written on tear-stained paper) a testimony to Who sustained me throughout my sickness. The reason I kept fighting for my life and believing in the future is written on those pages. The Person that kept me even when I wanted to end my own life is revealed on a those reams of paper.

It was Jesus. Always and only Jesus.

I’ve often wondered what will happen when I’m not sick anymore. Will I keep writing? Will I still rely on this pen and paper to communicate with God? Will this still be a key tool He uses to meet and chat with me?

I don’t know the answer to those questions. Only God knows what He has planned for the next seasons of my life. But I do know this: Jesus will be there and He’ll keep providing plenty of tools to connect with Him along the way.

Whether or not God uses writing, I know He’ll keep revealing Himself. With or without the use of a pen and paper,  He will continue to show His love by faithfully making His spirit known in incredible and unexpected ways.

In my heart, I sure do hope He keeps using writing to draw me closer to Jesus but I trust that Father knows best. He knows my desires and, more importantly, He knows just what I need in every season of my life. He will provide in the future just like He has in the present and past. Because God is good… He is faithful… And He isn’t finished yet.

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The Shield of Faith

A long, long time ago (read: fall of 2017) a mysterious bubble appeared on my eyelid (thanks chronic Lyme disease). The bubble grew so large that, at times, I thought it might explode. But, by the grace of God, it never did. In time, the bubble began to diminish until one day it was entirely gone.

In my mind’s eye I saw that bubble as a battle in the war for the health of my eyes;a pussy, protruding fight for the territory of my vision. With the bubble gone, I thought the battle was won, once and for all. Until two weeks ago, when a new, less protruding, just as painful, eyelid problem presented itself.

I first encountered my new eyelid issue one night as I was laying down to sleep. All of a sudden, a stabbing pain assaulted my eyes and I couldn’t blink without feeling tortured. I cried and moaned in agony for over two hours until I finally fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up with the same debilitating pain and made a frantic appointment with an eye doctor. After peering into my cornea with a bright light and quizzical look in her eye, the doctor flatly declared, “your eyelids are like sand paper.” 

I was a bit taken aback and confused. How did my eyelids become like sand paper so suddenly and what could I do about it? The doctor didn’t have an answer to the first question but she did have an idea for the second. “Wear your contacts,” she said. “They’ll act as a shield. When you blink, your sand paper eyelids will scratch the contact, not your cornea.”

I rushed home to my contact, excited to put the lenses in my eyes. The moment the contacts met my cornea the discomfort reduced dramatically. A smile spread across my face as I blinked free of stabbing pain. Before long the redness in my eyes diminished and the burning subsided.

Fast forward two weeks and my eye lids are still like sand paper. As the doctor warned, this is a condition that may not go away. But, as has been true throughout every twist and turn of my illness and healing journey, I still believe God can heal my eye. He has the power to redeem and restore everything that is broken – including eyelids.

 

But even if He should choose not to heal this part of me, He has not left me without hope and help for my condition. The Great Physician has provided two shields to protect my cornea: contacts and faith.

As I take up the shields God has provided I must remember that my enemy, satan himself, wants to use this latest healing set back to derail my faith. To kill, steal and destroy my confidence in Christ is always his goal. So, although I’m sure satan wouldn’t mind robbing me of physical vision, that isn’t his primary target. It is spiritual vision he’s after.

But before I ever knew I would have sandpaper eyelids God had a plan for my protection. His solution to keep me guarded from satan’s schemes and every one of life’s problems is faith in Jesus Christ. Even when pain assaults my physical being, the assurance of salvation by grace through faith in Jesus’ resurrection is my unfailing shield. I can stand tall as the battle within my body rages on because the victory for my eternal health and vision is already won.

Thanks to my sandpaper eye lids, I pray to God in a whole new way. Each morning, as I put in my contact lenses, I talk to God and say… “Heavenly Father, thank you for redeeming and renewing the eyes of my heart. Thank you for showing me how to walk by faith and not by sight. Lord, I pray that my eyes will stay fixed on you even when the enemy attacks my body, mind and soul. Help me to hold tightly to the shield of faith so I can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one by the indwelling of Jesus’ resurrection power. Amen.”

If learning how to depend on Jesus as my shield is the reason for my sandpaper eye lids, then to God be the glory for great things He has done! 

 

“…take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.” – Ephesians 6:16

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Lyme War

Two years ago, when my war against Lyme began, I was naively optimistic.

Although I knew reclaiming the territory of my body in the name of health would be difficult, I was confident that God would deliver the victory – and fast. In my mind’s eye I saw the paralyzed man walking and the bleeding woman made well. I saw the walls of Jericho falling and the Red Sea parted. I saw the miracle and believed I would receive one, too – sooner rather than later.

But two years have passed, and my Lyme War is not over yet.

Despite many passionate, tearful prayers, begging God to bring an end to my fight, He has yet to fulfill my request for decisive victory. I’m still in the heat of the battle. I’m still in the fight for my life.

In my darkest, most desperate moments, I’ve questioned God’s timing and doubted His love for me. If God is good, why hasn’t He healed me yet? Or at least alleviated my pain?… I love Him and want to serve Him, so why hasn’t He blessed me with a miracle?

Out of all the pills I’ve had to take (and trust me, I’ve taken a lot) the rate of recovery God has deemed best for me has been, by far, the most difficult to swallow.

When I began my war on Lyme Disease, my hope, joy and peace depended on God healing my body. I was hanging the hat of my faith on physical restoration. As I read stories in the Bible about miraculous healing I focused exclusively on the happy ending and missed the decades of sickness and disease that came before, “pick up your mat and walk.”

The truth is, my faith was flawed.

Faith that is conditional on physical restoration isn’t real, true, genuine faith. Real, true, genuine faith requires that all of my hope, peace and joy hang on the cross of Christ, not the condition of my health.

God doesn’t want my contentment to be reliant on receiving a physical miracle. He wants me to be confident and joyful because Jesus has declared victory in my soul and made me whole by the power of His redemptive blood. That is the only miracle I need to live truly victoriously.

Paul wrote in Hebrews 11:1, “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” Paul wrote those words from the first-hand perspective of a follower of Christ who suffered in prison and in flesh due to “a thorn” that God chose not to take away.

Yet, Paul had hope.

Paul, a man who never had a “pick up your mat and walk” moment of healing for his physical affliction, refused to abandon his hope and faith in the goodness and mercy of Jesus Christ. Whether he was in chains or in pain, Paul was in love with the Lord and committed to serving Him and persevering for the glory of God’s great name.

Come what may in my Lyme War, the war for my soul is already won. Whether or not I am ever made fully physically well, I can persevere with joy and hope because Jesus won the war for my heart when He rose from the grave. The day I received new life by the power of the Risen Christ is the day I received the only victory I will ever need and the one no sickness on earth can ever take away.

God has made me well in the soul. The rest is just icing on an already delicious cake.

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I Have a Dream…

I was born a dreamer.

As a young girl I dreamt that one day I’d be a married mommy. I imagined four little ones and a minivan.

My dreams were so detailed that I even pictured how I’d dress my kids for Sunday morning church. The girls would be in ruffled dresses with bows in their hair. The boys would be in seersucker suits with bowties.

I dreamt in Gap Kids ads. 

Then I got older and my dreams shifted. But only slightly.

Instead of dreaming of a minivan I switched to a large SUV.

By age twenty my dreams became a bit more realistic. Sunday dresses might end up with stains before the service even started. The large SUV might have spilled milk in the car seat. Home might not be as spotless and pristine as an HGTV décor magazine.

The number of kids varied, too. Maybe there would be three adopted kids or even five? I let go of the precise number and left that detail in God’s hands. But the fundamentals of my dream never changed. Husband. Kids. Home.

I was confident that by age thirty my dream would be well underway to coming true. According to my dream timeline, I would be a wife, homeowner and mother to two before I entered my fourth decade of life.

But this year I’m going to turn twenty-nine and not one single detail of my childhood dreams have been fulfilled.

In my mid-twenties I came to the realization that the fantasies I grew up holding in my heart may not unfold the way I’d hoped. It was a tough pill to swallow. I’d spent years day dreaming about my future picture-perfect life. But the reality of my early adulthood hasn’t look anything like my picture.

A few years ago, I wrote about letting go of my dreams. It was like holding onto a bundle of balloons and, one-by-one, releasing them into the sky. The kids. The house. The husband. The adorable little family attending church together. I had to let go of my death grip on my dreams and let them float away.

But, truth be told, I’ve never let those balloons out of my sight. I’ve tried. Trust me, I’ve tried. But I keep looking up into the clouds, trying to spot my dreams dancing around in the wind. All along I’ve been hoping God will let them gently descend back into my life.

But God hasn’t fulfilled my returned dreams desires. Instead, He’s made a special delivery and sent new balloons into my life. He’s given my dreams brand new life.

The dreams God has given me are unlike any I had as a child. The dreams I had for myself appeared achievable. God’s dreams appear impossible. The dreams I formulated sounded realistic. God’s dreams sound completely intimidating.

God’s been sending me dreams so lofty I’ve been afraid to speak them out loud for fear of sounding foolish. I’ve been holding them close to my chest, too overwhelmed by their magnitude to admit they are real.

But God won’t let me stay silent any longer. He wants me to proclaim the dreams He has delivered and believe that, because are His, they will come true.

So, in obedience to God, this is my God-delivered dream:
To have a worldwide ministry that encourages people to surrender their entire lives to Christ, trust God to be their sustainer and obediently follow Him wherever He leads.

I have no idea how God plans to make that dream a reality but I do know He can do it. I am not sure how it will be accomplished but I know it won’t be accomplished by my own ability and power.

And I believe that’s exactly why God’s given this dream to me. His desire is that I be totally reliant on His power to do the impossible. He is calling me to step beyond the limits of my weakness and live by the indwelling of His limitless strength.

Declaring the dream God has given me is the first step in trusting Him to make it happen. He has not given me this dream to abandon it. He has given it to me because He is going to show up and make it a reality. God, the deliverer of the dream, will be the fulfiller of the dream.

“The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.”

– 1 Thessalonians 5:24

Perhaps, one day, God will bring back my old dreams to unite with my new dreams. If so, I’ll be there with open arms, ready to receive the gift of a husband, kids and home.

But, until then, I’m going to stop scanning the sky for those old balloons and let my eyes rest on these new, glorious God-given balloons. I am going to stop shrinking back with fear and doubt. I am going to bolding grab hold of God’s dreams and begin confidently and joyfully praising Him in advance for fulfilling them.

God, I can’t but you can. What is impossible for me is entirely possible for you! I know that you have given me this great dream to bring you glory. I am standing confidently in who You are and what You are going to accomplish. Lord, Here I am, send me. Here I am, use me. Take my life and use it to make Jesus known.

Amen

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…Yet

A heart to heart from the journal

I asked God to give me a sign and tell me what this is all about.

“What are you up to?” I asked.“God, can you give me a sign? Some reassurance that everything is going to be alright? I’m weary, but you already knew that. I need your strength to hold on. I’m asking Lord for you to come and rescue me in your Mighty way. Overcome my weakness with your strength. Defeat my enemy with the victory of Jesus Christ. I am sounding the trumpets, I expect and know I will see your face. Come quick God and reveal to me your way!”

I was hoping God would show me a glimpse of His plan or reveal a tiny sneak peek. A clap of thunder or chiming of bells would have been a nice touch to reassure me that God is still there and that He cares.

But when I asked God I got nothing. For months I heard not a peep. All I received was a still, small voice whispering ever so quietly. When I finally stopped to listen I could hear Him say, “I don’t want you to know anything yet.”

Yet…that word hung in the air and arose with glorious tones. Yet. There is a yet. God isn’t finished…yet.

I had feared it was all over. That is why I had prayed so desperately for a sign. My trust wasn’t standing on solid ground just yet. My faith was still holding out for sight.

And then I heard God speaking that glorious yet and my vision changed.

God does not want me to know what comes next. He just wants me to trust and believe that He has written me a glorious future and it will unfold page by page. All He asks is that I surrender in faith and rejoice in His story.

 

PS…Because He isn’t finished…yet.