The ransomed of the LORD will return. They will enter Zion with singing: everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away.
Will this series of unfortunate events ever end? Or will the rest of my life by plagued by pain and sorrow? Is life on earth just a series of one painful event after another?
This is the sum of the questions I was asking when God showed me Isaiah 51:11. It was the verse listed on the top right hand side of the page and of course it got my attention because it was 51:11 (eleven). I find myself paying special attention to verse 11 anytime God brings it to my attention. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away? Really? Are YOU talking to me? What do you mean by that? I took a few moments to reflect and then moved on in the book I was using for my morning worship. I had completed almost all of the workbook for Beth Moore's study "Stepping Up" , but the last instruction read: Conclude with Isaiah 33: 3-10. To my astonishment verse 10 read, "and the ransomed of the LORD will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away." WHAT? Can this be a coincidence? Did I read that right? Are YOU talking to me? What are YOU saying? Dare I hope that YOU might mean what I hope it means?
In my mind, I can hear Beth Moore saying, "It is not your treasure til it makes it past your defenses."
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Long Awaited Salvation
My father was one of the sweetest, kindest people you will ever meet. But since I was a child I can remember him telling us that Jesus was not for real and the the Bible was just a bunch of stories made up by men. This knowledge was not well received by my siblings and I, as we had heard differently in our church home and from many God-loving people, that what my father so strongly believed, was NOT the truth.
Even before I asked Jesus to be my Lord at the age of 27, I had argued with my father far more times than you could count about this very subject. Once becoming a "real" believer with a real relationship with our Savior Jesus Christ, you can only imagine how my efforts increased. I tried everything I could think of or felt led to do.
When that didn't work I prayed that God would "send a man (or woman, of course) from a far away land" to persuade my Dad. And God honored that request by sending many. One particularly interesting case was when He sent my father's cousin from Florida, Joyce. She and he had played together and been very close as children. Joyce was now a Messianic Jew and upon her arrival announced to my father that the Lord had sent her because He needed to give his life to Christ. She proceeded to astound everyone when she pulled out a trocar and blew it. My sister relates that "surely the presence of the Lord was in that place". Daddy even prayed to receive Christ, but sadly told me later that he had only done so because of the pressure of her dramatic arrival and persuasive message. Even though God answered our prayers for testimonials to the reality of Christ in very specific, amazing ways, my father was unable to surrender the doubts and questions he had been plagued with since becoming too smart for his own good.
Years later, after my father had been hospitalized for complications from Leukemia treatments, (a disease he shared with my mother who died of the disease almost fifteen years earlier) my sister, Kelly and I gave a last ditch effort at persuading Daddy. We met in his hospital room and spoke plainly of what we felt the Lord had put on our hearts.Daddy struggled with not being able to understand EVERYTHING about Christianity and to that we argued that we cannot, as humans, understand EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING. We added that he did not understand everything about how the medicine that he was taking worked, and yet he trusted his life to it. We also shared that we believed that one reason he trusted the medicine was because he trusted his much beloved doctor, Dr. Lakanphal and Dr. Lakanphal's well-founded belief that the medicines were vital to his health. By the same account, he could trust Christ because he trusted his children who all four walked with the Lord on a daily basis, his wife, my stepmother, who was a strong believer, and her sister that emailed him scriptures everyday. We were not hypocrites, as Daddy was wont to call Christians, and HE KNEW IT. We also were very aware that Daddy did not feel worthy of salvation or Christ's love. He had stubbornly turned down the offer of salvation for years and had committed various sins which he considered to be unforgiveable. To that we asked, "Is there ANYTHING one of us could do that would ever make you stop loving us?"Daddy did not pray to receive Christ that night, but I knew we had accomplished what God had intended and we left with a peace that we had a put a dent in his defiance.
As God would have it, Daddy left the hospital not that long after our conversation, only to return on April 1, 2008 so short of breath that he needed admission to the intensive care unit, and upon my arrival I became fearful that he wouldn't survive long enough to make it there. Sometimes being a nurse, is more of a burden than a blessing. I literally begged Daddy to accept Christ the moment I laid eyes on him. I said things like "if you won't do it for yourself, do it for me" and "please say it even if you don't mean it" (which of course left room for some doubt when he did relent). Praise God, he did surrender his life that day between the shallow, labored breaths that he drew. Daddy also survived long enough to make it to the ICU. And despite my immediate doubts, our sweet Heavenly Father allowed us to hear testimony of his decision, not just once, but several times before my sweet Daddy left this earth. I was convinced and still am to this day, that my father truly became a "SURRENDERER" that day. He surrendered his doubts and lack of ability to"understand everything" to the cross of Christ.
What does this have to do with the number eleven you ask? If you recall I spoke of my father being re-hospitalized on April 1, 2008. He passed from this earth ELEVEN days later on April ELEVENTH, 2008. To God be the Glory!!!
Even before I asked Jesus to be my Lord at the age of 27, I had argued with my father far more times than you could count about this very subject. Once becoming a "real" believer with a real relationship with our Savior Jesus Christ, you can only imagine how my efforts increased. I tried everything I could think of or felt led to do.
When that didn't work I prayed that God would "send a man (or woman, of course) from a far away land" to persuade my Dad. And God honored that request by sending many. One particularly interesting case was when He sent my father's cousin from Florida, Joyce. She and he had played together and been very close as children. Joyce was now a Messianic Jew and upon her arrival announced to my father that the Lord had sent her because He needed to give his life to Christ. She proceeded to astound everyone when she pulled out a trocar and blew it. My sister relates that "surely the presence of the Lord was in that place". Daddy even prayed to receive Christ, but sadly told me later that he had only done so because of the pressure of her dramatic arrival and persuasive message. Even though God answered our prayers for testimonials to the reality of Christ in very specific, amazing ways, my father was unable to surrender the doubts and questions he had been plagued with since becoming too smart for his own good.
Years later, after my father had been hospitalized for complications from Leukemia treatments, (a disease he shared with my mother who died of the disease almost fifteen years earlier) my sister, Kelly and I gave a last ditch effort at persuading Daddy. We met in his hospital room and spoke plainly of what we felt the Lord had put on our hearts.Daddy struggled with not being able to understand EVERYTHING about Christianity and to that we argued that we cannot, as humans, understand EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING. We added that he did not understand everything about how the medicine that he was taking worked, and yet he trusted his life to it. We also shared that we believed that one reason he trusted the medicine was because he trusted his much beloved doctor, Dr. Lakanphal and Dr. Lakanphal's well-founded belief that the medicines were vital to his health. By the same account, he could trust Christ because he trusted his children who all four walked with the Lord on a daily basis, his wife, my stepmother, who was a strong believer, and her sister that emailed him scriptures everyday. We were not hypocrites, as Daddy was wont to call Christians, and HE KNEW IT. We also were very aware that Daddy did not feel worthy of salvation or Christ's love. He had stubbornly turned down the offer of salvation for years and had committed various sins which he considered to be unforgiveable. To that we asked, "Is there ANYTHING one of us could do that would ever make you stop loving us?"Daddy did not pray to receive Christ that night, but I knew we had accomplished what God had intended and we left with a peace that we had a put a dent in his defiance.
As God would have it, Daddy left the hospital not that long after our conversation, only to return on April 1, 2008 so short of breath that he needed admission to the intensive care unit, and upon my arrival I became fearful that he wouldn't survive long enough to make it there. Sometimes being a nurse, is more of a burden than a blessing. I literally begged Daddy to accept Christ the moment I laid eyes on him. I said things like "if you won't do it for yourself, do it for me" and "please say it even if you don't mean it" (which of course left room for some doubt when he did relent). Praise God, he did surrender his life that day between the shallow, labored breaths that he drew. Daddy also survived long enough to make it to the ICU. And despite my immediate doubts, our sweet Heavenly Father allowed us to hear testimony of his decision, not just once, but several times before my sweet Daddy left this earth. I was convinced and still am to this day, that my father truly became a "SURRENDERER" that day. He surrendered his doubts and lack of ability to"understand everything" to the cross of Christ.
What does this have to do with the number eleven you ask? If you recall I spoke of my father being re-hospitalized on April 1, 2008. He passed from this earth ELEVEN days later on April ELEVENTH, 2008. To God be the Glory!!!
The Tithe
"Bring the WHOLE tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty,"and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it."
Over a year ago now, my husband and I sold the Lincoln Continental I had been given when my grandmother passed away. My grandfather had decided to live in an assisted living and had not much use for a car, or really, the ability to drive one.
For approximately two years I drove the car, partly out of respect for the love my grandfather had for the car and partly out of a lack of energy needed to sell the Lincoln and find and purchase a new one.
We found the car we wanted in January 2009. The dealership we bought the car from agreed to sell the Lincoln, so we financed our new car while waiting on the Lincoln to sell. Although it sold fairly quickly, we still owed more money on our new car than we received for the Lincoln. Despite this, my husband and I agreed that we should pay off an "old" tithe that we had owed for approximately two years. We had gotten behind when my grandfather had gotten ill, creating the need for someone to care for my grandmother who was on bi-weekly dialysis treatment. Taking care of Nana did not allow me to work as much as I had been, and being a "flexi" nurse, if I didn't work, I didn't get paid. We had owed $2000 dollars,and, having received payment for the Lincoln, we wrote out a check an mailed it in.
Exactly ELEVEN DAYS after the check was taken out of our bank and deposited in the church's account, my grandfather gifted me, and my other brothers, sisters and cousins, with a check for $7000 dollars which more than paid off the debt we had incurred during the time I was off work. PRAISE GOD FROM WHOM ALL BLESSINGS FLOW!! AND ELEVEN DAYS--HOW AMAZING!
Over a year ago now, my husband and I sold the Lincoln Continental I had been given when my grandmother passed away. My grandfather had decided to live in an assisted living and had not much use for a car, or really, the ability to drive one.
For approximately two years I drove the car, partly out of respect for the love my grandfather had for the car and partly out of a lack of energy needed to sell the Lincoln and find and purchase a new one.
We found the car we wanted in January 2009. The dealership we bought the car from agreed to sell the Lincoln, so we financed our new car while waiting on the Lincoln to sell. Although it sold fairly quickly, we still owed more money on our new car than we received for the Lincoln. Despite this, my husband and I agreed that we should pay off an "old" tithe that we had owed for approximately two years. We had gotten behind when my grandfather had gotten ill, creating the need for someone to care for my grandmother who was on bi-weekly dialysis treatment. Taking care of Nana did not allow me to work as much as I had been, and being a "flexi" nurse, if I didn't work, I didn't get paid. We had owed $2000 dollars,and, having received payment for the Lincoln, we wrote out a check an mailed it in.
Exactly ELEVEN DAYS after the check was taken out of our bank and deposited in the church's account, my grandfather gifted me, and my other brothers, sisters and cousins, with a check for $7000 dollars which more than paid off the debt we had incurred during the time I was off work. PRAISE GOD FROM WHOM ALL BLESSINGS FLOW!! AND ELEVEN DAYS--HOW AMAZING!
The Perfect Day
Last Saturday morning as my mind was rehearsing Friday's events, I had the thought "Wow, yesterday really was a 'perfect' day!" It had started off with time spent with my Ultimate BFF, my Abba Father, conversation with one of my other bff's Nena (which amazingly was her last day in the corporate world thanks to the fact that she would be busy promoting her new book 'Toes in the Sand', which had also gone into print on that very day) , singing praises and dancing to my new "Third Day CD's (thankfully noone was watching or listening other than God), going to lunch and shopping with another one of my bff's Pamela (where I bagged some GREAT deals, which only God could have orchestrated), secured two more advertisements for Hoover Bucs Baseball (which ultimately saved my husband and I at least $300), and then got the surprise of this year when another bff Alyson called with tickets to the Brady Paisley tickets. Now I had had a very good day up til then, but it was about to get better!
She told me she thought they were pretty good tickets, but wasn't sure where they were. We picked up the tickets, paid $50 dollars, nabbed 1 of the last two parking spots in the deck, and made our way to the civic center to find someone that could show us where our seats were. The usual spot on the ticket that displays your Section, read only CONT. The lady we asked, smiled at our ignorance and enthusiasticly pointed to the fourth row of the bottom floor, right next to the stage! " Oh my gosh!!! Oh my gosh!!!" Alyson and I screamed in unison! If we screamed those three words once, we must have screamed them 20 times before making our way to the floor. It was like Christmas morning when you are a child and you receive an unexpected gift that just blows you away!
To say the least, we VERY MUCH enjoyed the concert, which opened with Jeremy Niebert and Darius Rucker. It ended with 2 hours worth of Brad Paisley. There were many times that we were close enough to touch all of them, and actually they did slap our hands as they went by, on more than one occasion. We acted like teenagers and gave Alyson's son Brooks, who was in the upper deck, lots to be embarassed and envious of. Reading Brooks text to my son, Brady later, I laughed out loud as Brooks told Brady how we were the only two on our row standing up and dancing, even though Paisley hadn't come out yet. He finished with "Dude, we got some redneck moms!" Redneck or not, it was simply the "perfect" ending to a "perfect" day.
Laying there in bed, having reviewed most of this in my mind, I concluded with a gasp,"Of course it was a "perfect" day-"---it was 2/11/11!!!!!!
She told me she thought they were pretty good tickets, but wasn't sure where they were. We picked up the tickets, paid $50 dollars, nabbed 1 of the last two parking spots in the deck, and made our way to the civic center to find someone that could show us where our seats were. The usual spot on the ticket that displays your Section, read only CONT. The lady we asked, smiled at our ignorance and enthusiasticly pointed to the fourth row of the bottom floor, right next to the stage! " Oh my gosh!!! Oh my gosh!!!" Alyson and I screamed in unison! If we screamed those three words once, we must have screamed them 20 times before making our way to the floor. It was like Christmas morning when you are a child and you receive an unexpected gift that just blows you away!
To say the least, we VERY MUCH enjoyed the concert, which opened with Jeremy Niebert and Darius Rucker. It ended with 2 hours worth of Brad Paisley. There were many times that we were close enough to touch all of them, and actually they did slap our hands as they went by, on more than one occasion. We acted like teenagers and gave Alyson's son Brooks, who was in the upper deck, lots to be embarassed and envious of. Reading Brooks text to my son, Brady later, I laughed out loud as Brooks told Brady how we were the only two on our row standing up and dancing, even though Paisley hadn't come out yet. He finished with "Dude, we got some redneck moms!" Redneck or not, it was simply the "perfect" ending to a "perfect" day.
Laying there in bed, having reviewed most of this in my mind, I concluded with a gasp,"Of course it was a "perfect" day-"---it was 2/11/11!!!!!!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
The Start of It All
Several years ago now, my husband and I were "lay counseling" some friends of ours that were having marital problems. The couple had made a decision to pray for each other at 11:11 every night, no matter what was going on, and had faithfully done so through hell and high water over the last several months.
This particular night, a confession had just been made that, in the natural realm of things, seemed to have put a "happy ending" desperately out of reach. Neither my husband nor I could come up with anything comforting or encouraging to say, and we all just sat there in a state of hopelessness and despair.
It was about that time that our children yelled that we needed to go!! We yelled back, "What time is it?" You could have heard a pin drop as the Holy Spirit entered the room at the children's answer of "11:11!". The countenance of my dear friend's face changed, and hope crept back into the room and the relationship.
Now for those of you who don't have goose bumps, let me ask you what the statistical probability of it being exactly 11:11 at night is, of the children looking at some clock at precisely that time, and furthermore, not saying something like, "It's after 11:00!" When you add to that the unlikelihood of us to being there that late in the first place, you have what I like to call a "fingerprint" from God Almighty. The God that knows the beginning from the end and directs our steps and our lives in such a fashion, that I am constantly amazed at His devine timeliness and ability to make all things new.
Since that period in time, the Lord has used the time 11:11 to encourage my friend, myself and my daughter, in particular, at times of despair, discouragement, or distress. My friend saw this time again right after her husband had fallen off of a ladder and had to be rushed to the emergency room. I looked at my watch as I was walking around the lake one day, in a mood of disappointment over something that I am very sure seemed big at the time, but which I can't remember now, to see 11:11. My daughter was recently crying and praying for a friend that had collapsed with a bleed in his brain at school, his life hanging in the balance, when she looked at the clock to see 11:11. I have seen this time on the clock a couple of times when I was worried about my son's high school sports "career". And these are only examples of the times that I can actually recount the incidents surrounding God putting his "fingerprints" on our lives by showing us 11:11 at precisely the exact moment that we needed to see it. There are many more. But that is for later posts.
This particular night, a confession had just been made that, in the natural realm of things, seemed to have put a "happy ending" desperately out of reach. Neither my husband nor I could come up with anything comforting or encouraging to say, and we all just sat there in a state of hopelessness and despair.
It was about that time that our children yelled that we needed to go!! We yelled back, "What time is it?" You could have heard a pin drop as the Holy Spirit entered the room at the children's answer of "11:11!". The countenance of my dear friend's face changed, and hope crept back into the room and the relationship.
Now for those of you who don't have goose bumps, let me ask you what the statistical probability of it being exactly 11:11 at night is, of the children looking at some clock at precisely that time, and furthermore, not saying something like, "It's after 11:00!" When you add to that the unlikelihood of us to being there that late in the first place, you have what I like to call a "fingerprint" from God Almighty. The God that knows the beginning from the end and directs our steps and our lives in such a fashion, that I am constantly amazed at His devine timeliness and ability to make all things new.
Since that period in time, the Lord has used the time 11:11 to encourage my friend, myself and my daughter, in particular, at times of despair, discouragement, or distress. My friend saw this time again right after her husband had fallen off of a ladder and had to be rushed to the emergency room. I looked at my watch as I was walking around the lake one day, in a mood of disappointment over something that I am very sure seemed big at the time, but which I can't remember now, to see 11:11. My daughter was recently crying and praying for a friend that had collapsed with a bleed in his brain at school, his life hanging in the balance, when she looked at the clock to see 11:11. I have seen this time on the clock a couple of times when I was worried about my son's high school sports "career". And these are only examples of the times that I can actually recount the incidents surrounding God putting his "fingerprints" on our lives by showing us 11:11 at precisely the exact moment that we needed to see it. There are many more. But that is for later posts.
A Patient's Story
Not long ago, while taking care of a patient, the patient began to tell me that this year, no matter who you were, if you took your birth year and added it to the year you would turn during 2011, it would ALWAYS add up to 111. My friend was in the room and she was stunned that this patient "just happened" to share this story with me, given the significance of the number 11 in my life. This, of course, led to the patient being forced to listen to my discertation about this very subject and he left later with an earful, Nena's name, and the name of her book.
Later that day, my friend was pulled in to the amazing awe of it all when she looked up at the clock to see precisely 11:11 a.m.
Later that day, my friend was pulled in to the amazing awe of it all when she looked up at the clock to see precisely 11:11 a.m.
The "Timely" Texts
Nena was scheduled to speak publicly about her new book, "Toes In the Sand", the same day that my family and I were driving to Memphis to see my cousin perform in the musical "Shrek". I texted Nena to ask what time her speech was supposed to start,telling her that I would pray for her during the speech. I glanced at my cell phone after finishing the text and almost jumped out of my seat. The text was timed at 11:11!!!
Later that night I was feeling bad that, despite having started to pray at 5:31 and praying almost the entire time she was speaking, I had not followed up with a text to see how the speech had gone. She responded, we texted a line or two about how fabulously it was received ,about how God had shone up and how she had actually recieved a standing ovation!!! Not bad for the first time speaking in public, huh? As she put down her phone, she gasped loud enough for her husband to ask what was the matter. The clock in the car read 11:11!!!
Later that night I was feeling bad that, despite having started to pray at 5:31 and praying almost the entire time she was speaking, I had not followed up with a text to see how the speech had gone. She responded, we texted a line or two about how fabulously it was received ,about how God had shone up and how she had actually recieved a standing ovation!!! Not bad for the first time speaking in public, huh? As she put down her phone, she gasped loud enough for her husband to ask what was the matter. The clock in the car read 11:11!!!
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