A couple weeks ago, I experienced a “H-e-double hockey sticks” of a night. It was the closest to a panic attack I had come in 6-7 years. I was weeping uncontrollably and couldn't catch my breath and kept having flashes of something gruesome and awful and was thrashing around in anger or fear or confusion or all of the above. It was intense. Kaits prayed over me like it was her job and finally I calmed down enough to sleep.
I was feeling like it was a sign of failure and weakness and disappointment. And really wanting to quit- quit trying to be holy, quit valuing myself enough to make healthy choices, quit work and just live in a hole and eat worms and cry.Kinda dramatic but it was such a dark night. I really felt like there was not much hope. I felt pathetic, worthless and shamed.
By the end of that week the Lord had opened up 2 specific opportunities that I could not have imagined being a part of before. It was like the Lord was proving to me that this fight is worth it. 1. My neighbor ("The beautiful one" as the boys downstairs refer to her) saw me in the hall the next day and invited me to an Indian dance show at the Old Town School of Folk Music. We have been talking about doing something together for months, but it never seems to work out. I had the night free but was feeling understandably exhausted. My spirit felt compelled to go and even seemed a step of obedience. It was kind of intimidating since "the beautiful one" is just that and classy too; a wine and cheese and pearls kinda woman. It was an amazing show and I enjoyed getting to know her a little and a couple of her friends. She is an avid traveler and a snappy dresser. Hopefully there will be more such times... 2. The GRIP retreat was such an encouraging experience (minus all the akward attempts to talk to people - haha). There were sessions that broke my heart, that educated me about realities of city living and convicted me to my core. One evening devotional was by a great man of prayer. He talked about the importance and power of prayer in our life and ministry. He talked about claiming territory (literal, physical land) in the name of Jesus. I've always thought of (and been taught that) the earth as Satan's turf that will be destroyed and remade at Christ's return. He described the scenario somewhat differently though and it rocked my world. I don't know if I "agree" or not- still chewing it over. It's a much more covenant theology, Hasidic Judaism kind of thinking about ushering in the kingdom it seems. I absolutely do believe in the Spirit though and His work to change a life and even a place. 2 days after that rough night one of the staff memebers from GRIP asked me to take a more involved role in intersessory prayer part of the program. Especially for someone who is an Activator (Now, Discover Your Strengths), it might be easy to do alot of busy work and forget that without the Spirit of the Living God.... nothing is accomplished!
That terrible night was a definite turning point for me… To still say “no” to the flesh, to draw the line and say that I do not answer to it even though it screams my name. That awful, battle-exhausted feeling has given way to a feeling of victory I have not known so fully in awhile. And I am so thankful for this moment to reflect on where He has brought me to…. And that I can trust He will be faithful to complete the work He has started in my life. Though I hate that place of need being exposed and don’t like the inconvenience or embarrassment of it all; I am confident that this pain and struggle are the instruments that God is using to form me more into His image. There is power in the blood!!! O Praise the One, Who took my debt and raised this life up from the grave!
That feeling of invincibility and victory ebbs and flows. Currently, I feel that my mind (like love) is a battlefield. So many fears surrounding my identity cause me to mistrust those who love me most. Lame and destructive, I know! I'm thankful for a wise and godly woman who was able to speak some very potent truth to me this week over coffee and kleenex. It is a good thing to be called out when you are bogus, even if it is painful to hear. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend..." I'm also thankful for super patient friends and roommate. God is doing such a purifying work in me right now. I'd much rather put on a bunch of theatrics and go through a flurry of activities, slapping band-aids on all the wounds; than to just be before the LORD and allow His truth to saturate and transform my mind. In my weariness of doing battle with my own flesh the Lord is teaching me that it is not a microwave kind of spirituality that He is accomplishing in my life, but a slow roasting one...not a 99 cent burrito kind of meal, but instead a sunday dinner.
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