Stories that Shine on an Awesome God

Posts tagged ‘heart’

Soothing Oil

Entering my trashed apartment was like entering a mind diseased.

Your whole head is injured

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Carpet blanketed in filth –

Kitchen sink smeared with a brown film –

Your whole heart afflicted.

Food rotting in the refrigerator –

Windows broken –

From the sole of your foot to the top of your head, there is no soundness.

Counters and cabinets strewn with debris –

Walls pot marked with myriad holes, screws, and nails –

Only wounds and welts and open sores.

Hundreds of decals placed for hallucinogenic affect.

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Legal eviction had vacated the occupants, but not their mess. They had left that job for me.

I donned gloves and mask, scooped leftover items off the counters, and dumped decayed food from the refrigerator.

In less than six months, two people with diseased minds had turned a pristine, freshly painted, scrubbed and impeccably furnished apartment into a rat’s hole. They were two human beings caught in a trap of disrespect, dishonesty, and low living.

One glance at their mug shot and my son, quite snarkily, had commented, “How did you say ‘yes’ to that face?”

Not cleansed or bandaged or soothed with oil. (Isaiah 1: 5b- 6)

Eight heavy contractor bags later, I was down to the walls. Colored paper, butterflies, and flowers stuck to the sheet rock, the plaster clinging and tearing as I peeled. Bit by bit. Like the thoughts that dinged my brain with each decal ripped from the wall.

Disgust. Bitterness. Superiority. No soundness.

Human hands had pasted each item and pounded each nail into a scattering of holes my own hands would have to patch. My hands, created just like theirs. They were two fellow humans caught in a web. How had they become oppressed?

Caught in a web of its own, my heart was an open sore. I couldn’t clean up their heart or mind, but mine required soothing oil. I was willing.

Stop the meaningless religious rituals (Isaiah 1:7-15)

A prayer. A decision. Thoughts flowed: Compassion. Humility. Cleansing forgiveness. The good things of the land. Plenty of bandages and soothing oil.

Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow. Come, let us settle the matter, says the Lord, Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool. If you are willing and obedient, you will eat the good things of the land. (Isaiah. 1:17-19)

Every head, every heart has wounds and open sores. Yours. Mine. Be willing to be cleansed. Know the Holy Spirit’s soothing oil.

Category:

Failings, Forgiving, Gentle, God of Our Ultimates, Grief, In Sickness, Loving, Patient, Points of Light

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Wooer of My Heart

Early Teens:

​My church school teacher cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. The class hushed. “Everyone turn in your sermon notes.” I passed mine to the front.

image of gavel-law-books

​“So, this week’s sermon was about God’s unconditional love that caused Jesus to die for our sins, but what do you think? Does God’s love mean we don’t have to obey the law?” His full lips stretched into a smile. “Are the commandments still important?” I was used to his probing questions that often expanded into hours of discussion and for this one I had no answer. I kept my mouth shut.

​“Yes, of course they’re important.” A more courageous friend spoke up.

​“So how important?” My teacher prodded deeper. No one said a word.

“What happens if Jesus comes back and we still have sins in our life? Will we go to heaven?” He opened a  book bound in red leather. “This book says that all of our sins must be confessed and that God holds us accountable for every thought and every word. Even how we spend our time.”
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He smacked the book shut. “The angels keep a record of everything you do or say. Just make sure, before you go to sleep at night, make sure to confess all your sins. You don’t want Jesus to come and you not be ready.”

image of sundown and tree

“Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters . . . .Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live . . . .”  The One Who Longs for Me (Isaiah 55:1-3)

Mid-Twenties:

​“Father God.” I pleaded. “I’m not whole. I’m leaving pieces of myself on things. I’m trying, God, but my thoughts have not been established. Straighten me out.​
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Soon after this prayer, I began a spiritual journal:

​”Today I gained victory and assurance that the dark thoughts about my own works are not from the Giver of Light. Wonderful relief! I have God and the church confused. I have been trying to live up to others expectations, so I generally feel rejected. Lord, help me to gain my strength from you, not others.”

On another day I wrote:

​”God accepts my humanness!!! Not sinfulness, but humanness. Christ was human. Why do we try not to be human, to live apart and above ourselves and others, thinking this will make us more heavenly? This is the basis of coldness and neglect. We must be human, share our grief and joy, laugh, cry, and sing with our fellow-men.”
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Light leaped. God was answering my prayer to straighten me out, but old mindsets die hard. Subconsciously, I was never good enough.

image of woodsy creek

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” — Jesus Christ, The Living Water (Matthew 11:28)

Late Twenties:

​Alone on my dark front porch with only the rush of a creek and a void in my heart, my agony with God began:

​“The doing, the doing, it’s always been the doing! So where is the joy, the wellspring of life? Where is the fountain of water you promised, the water surging into life everlasting? It has evaporated and I’ve been left desert dry.

“Where are you, God? How can I find you? I want to obey you, to serve you in completeness, but I can’t go on. Where do I go from here? I must know. There has to be a better way.”
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My tears tried to wash away the wall of spiritual uncertainty. The wall did not move. Instead, a clear Voice penetrated:

​”Go to the Word.”

​“What does that mean? I have gone to the Word! That’s why I’m in this mess!”

​”Go to the Word.”

​I did not understand, but I knew that I had best not silence the Voice.

​“You’ll have to show me, God, because I’m going to stop this insidious wandering in the world of externals. I’ll go to the Word. I’ll let you show me in your time. Meanwhile, I am going to stop trying.”

Image of Fontana Lake in NC

“Yea, I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with loving kindness have I drawn you.” The Wooer of My Heart (Jeremiah 31:3)

Early Thirties:

The continuing love of family and friends, raising innocent children, living in a beautiful mountain setting, experiencing daily provision, dropping my preconceived notions when reading the Word, all that and more, over the years, was how God showed me. It is how he wooed me.
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One quiet night I knelt alone.

“Father, God.” My voice broke. “If you require anything it’s only to make me whole. You’ve convinced me. You want my best good. You really do love me.”

It was as though a warm hand gently wrapped my heart with a radiating glow. My tears fell unchecked.

​“Now, about your salvation. Can you trust me with that? What about your weak areas, those things you think I expect you to give up? Will you let me work them out, or do you want to keep taking them out your way? Will you accept my unconditional love?”

​“I don’t know how you’ll do it, but it’s yours. I can trust you because I know you love me. Yes, Lord, my salvation is yours.”
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There was no organ music or sermon appeals, but it was my true surrender made possible only because I had finally fallen in love.

Image of Merita By Creek

 For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing.” — The Love of My Life (Isaiah 55:12)

 

For a short, poignant glimpse of a God from whom we don’t have to hide, click here:

thumbnail of "The Law of Love" with heart

Category:

God of Our Ultimates, Points of Light, Salvation, Saving

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