The Unity In Difference

T must have felt like wrangling today, because during the back end of his visit here today he broke out the whips to beat his favorite dead horse.  It started with his recounting of the topic of a recorded sermon series to which a mutual acquaintance is listening.  Apparently the preacher in the series has a bit to say on the subject of the mark of the beast, mentioned in the Bible, in the Book of the Revelation of Jesus, the last Book of the Bible.  The only thing I got out of T's description of what he says he heard is that this preacher believes, and is teaching, that there are forms of worship occurring in the Church (I mean the Church Universal, not the Catholic Church; because I know that Catholics capitalize the word "Church" in reference to itself, but I'm not Catholic, and I'm making the distinction between the Body of Christ and a building or denomination) that are not representative of what ought to be the true worship of a member of the Body of Christ.  Such worship, this preacher teaches, carries on it the mark of the beast.

"But who is he to say whose way of worship is right and whose is wrong?!" T demanded.  "He is just a man!  Nobody knows who's right or wrong!  That's why there are so many denominations out here, because nobody agrees on what's right or wrong, and nobody knows.  Everybody's different!"

God has done something in me since T told me he couldn't relate to me anymore.  Yes, I still defend my understanding of Christianity and the Bible whenever the subject arises, but whereas before his words always felt like an attack upon me, now I don't feel it so much, so that where I formerly resisted having the conversation after awhile, because it was so emotionally exhausting, now I have found, these last few times recently, that I am quite calm and accepting about it all; not accepting of his words, because difference doesn't always mean wrong, and the one who seeks wisdom and truth from God shall be given it, so it is indeed possible to know God's mind about the truths He has given us and which have been recorded; but accepting of his need to argue this.  I think it comes from recognizing that the true fight is not with me per se, but between the two forces that war for his soul, one of which has him and does not want to let go.  But T does and will belong to God in the end, of this I am and choose to be assured, so it is merely a waiting time for me until I see the manifestation.  I know it will be glorious :-)!

His words came to mind not more than an hour later when, during the beginning of our time of prayer at a local church, the group leader, a sweet angel of a lady with such a beautiful and joyous heart, shared with us the conversation, as she chose to term it, that arose out of what turned out to be perceived differences in styles of praying.  The discussion arose out of the perception of a participant in the morning prayer group last week that one or more other participants had taken too much of their share of time at praying aloud in a group.   A little later, we were all engrossed in our group leader's discussion with us about a church where six hours per session somehow manage to be too short in spite of everything!

Our prayers tonight reflected the common knowledge that we all are unique, with unique ways of experiencing life and of processing and understanding what we experience.  We are all differently gifted by our Father for the carrying out of His will in the earth.  Yet, His Spirit fills all who are His:  One Lord, one faith, one baptism in the Spirit, as Apostle Paul says.  Therefore, rather than that our differences divide us, we prayed tonight, and all ought to pray always, that we will be one in Him, just as Jesus Himself prayed for all of us.  

For as we all know that difference has been used of Satan to cause division among the race of mankind, even among those who claim to be believers in and adherers to the Word of God, so we all aught to recognize as well that our differences mean the coverage of the earth more effectively with our Lord's message for the ushering in of His kingdom.  Every part of the body is different one part from another, yet each part contributes its portion to the total experience of life of the complete person.  Moreso is this true in the Spirit:  We all have our unique testimonies and gifts, yet we all contribute in our individuality to the growth of the Church Universal which is headed by God Himself, from Whom we all receive the power of the Holy Spirit.  So just as the one Spirit activates all the individual parts for the good of the whole Body, so we ought not be intimidated by our differences, nor ought we to be divided by them.  

Moreover, we ought not to accept as condemnation or criticism from outsiders their pointing out of our differences individually, whether there be errors by individuals when they act out of ignorance, misunderstanding, or incomplete information, or whether there be sins willfully committed in rebellion, as rationalization for their own misconduct before God, because all have sinned and fall short of His glory, whether in the Body or not, and for all Jesus had to make atonement, whether they be in the Body or not.  The Bible is clear:  The soul that sins shall die.  Only one atonement is available as a remedy for this, and it has been made.  All that remains is for those who have sinned to become of a different mind about sin, recognizing that Jesus, and not the sinful individual, is right, Lord, and the one Who must be obeyed.  Sin of which a Believer is guilty is still sin, and lack of knowledge is still destructive; therefore it lacks merit as a justification of the misbehavior of a rebel.  If judgment starts in the house of God, as the Bible says, then what man outside it is there who should think it will go any better for him?

As for the charge that God has not told us who is right and who is wrong, the answer, by way of warning, that I would give is that to whom much is given, much is required.  This applies, as much as to anything else, to the ability and opportunity to receive, understand, and do the right that God has made known.  The Bible repeatedly states that "He has (my emphasis) shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you but to do what is right, have a heart for mercy, and walk humbly with your God?"  To whom He is accused of having not shown it, that one has closed his eyes and therefore cannot see.  But we do not have a God who gives us instruction, then leaves us with no understanding how to follow the instruction He has given.  We may freely seek wisdom from our Father, asking Him, and He gives freely, without reproach.  He invites us to come and reason together with Him.  

True, there will, for all our seeking and asking, not be a total answering of all questions in this life, but there will be a Day when we will know to the same extent we are known.  Until then, let us rejoice in the beauty of our uniqueness, given by God as it is, for it is given so that the Body into which He is incorporating us will lack nothing.  At the same time, let us recognize that our true distinctiveness is not because of our differences, but because of the unity to be found in Him.  In our distinction one from another, we are all bearers of His image, therefore let us know well where our focus should be:  It's not about us, but about Him.

Daniel Fast, Day 16: Lessons

Okay, here's something:  A fast within a fast.  How'd that happen?  Well, a visiting prophet wound up his second service Sunday night by asking us to do a "light fast" this morning until about midday in preparation for his final service tonight.  So breakfast was nothing at all.  Lunch was roasted and salted almonds with a Pink Lady apple, a break from the usual Red Delicious.  Supper was pintos.  Just that.  Now, I'm snacking on dry roasted and salted pistachios, a different nut altogether.  I'll also be crunching on another Pink Lady apple.

And, as quickly as he came, T has left again.  T's story is an example of why no one should ever take the attitude about anything they do, good or bad, that "I'm not hurting anybody".  Nothing, and I do mean nothing, happens in a vacuum.  For every action you take, there are consequences, to yourself and to other people.  And while you may choose your actions, you cannot choose the outcome of your actions.  Don't bother asking me what T did, I'm not telling you.  Ever.  But because of it, even though it happened way before I even knew he existed, he had to make a mad dash for safety back to a place he didn't want to be, and I'm left, once again, with no notion beyond tomorrow (because he has to return for some things he left) when I will see him again.

T's religious philosophy is also an example.  The power of positive thinking versus the presence of a powerful God.  With a notable exception, that being his lack of belief in the efficacy of prayer, which is based on his belief in an omni-permeative but non-relational god, T subscribes to the system of belief created by Ernest Shurtleff Holmes, creator and author of The Science of Mind, the name both of the philosophy and of the text that introduces and explains it.  A careful and thoughtful reading of their statement of "What We Believe" by anyone who is well-versed in the Bible will appear almost to be a modernized expression of certain Biblical concepts.  One might be lulled into thinking after awhile that there is not much of anything wrong with what it states.  It takes parsing what is said and digging deeper into what they say about key Christian concepts to spot the deception.  Also called Religious Science, and taught and practiced at places of worship called Centers of Spiritual Living, The Science of Mind affirms and teaches, among other things, that God lives in everybody; that God shows or demonstrates Itself (not Himself) in and through all creation but is separate from it, and the perceivable universe is the body of God; that heaven is experienced based on your life circumstances and hell does not exist, or only exists to the degree that your life is out of order; that because God is the only power, the devil cannot exist, and therefore anything for which we might blame him, or anyone else, is the result of our own faulty choices, and any negative or sinister experiences we have are simply the manifestation of superstition and faulty or primitive thinking or belief.  Jesus was a great "Master Teacher" who was the best expression of God.  Yes, He was a son of God, but so are we all; and yes, He was divine, but so are we all.  Sins are just mistakes we make, and we are punished by the consequences of those mistakes, not for making them.

By their teaching, one can influence one's circumstances by what one thinks, because the Universal Mind, aka the Law of God, is in direct contact with and influenced by thought.  This, combined with one's personal divinity and permeation by Spirit, would make it seem to me that, on a particular day he described, T should have been able to divine his purpose and thus dispel his feelings of aimlessness and being lost and without purpose simply by changing his thought.  Yet, for all his divinity of self, he spent a chunk of time driving around and going nowhere, feeling as though he had no reason to live.  He has many similar moments.  A true, right-thinking Christian would have known to take that to our Lord, to pray, to stand on faith in God, Who knows the plans He has for all of us.  At the end of the day, the power of positive thought, without being informed and transformed by the power of Holy Spirit and the Word of the true God, leads to nothing more than a vivid but ultimately vain imagination.

Because of T's choices, in action and in thinking, I'm left with God's response where I'm concerned.  God's ordinances are about protection of His children from the consequences of sin into which we might otherwise fall if we did not obey Him.  One of His ordinances is unity of spirit between any two people, especially relationally, as expressed in the First Letter to the Corinthians wherein Apostle Paul instructs, "Do not be unequally yoked with an unbeliever."  Granted, this is mainly thought to apply to marriage, but it can also apply to close friendships, which T and I had.  Because I am His child, and T and I clearly walk on different spiritual paths, which has profound implications for the rest of our relationship, God has determined to protect me, and so He does. Therefore, I do not seek to, let us say, "throw myself under the bus" by stubbornly persisting in trying to maintain our relationship beyond what boundaries God would allow, although I can and do still love T very much.  So what happens when, through no fault of my own, the "bus" comes crashing into my abode?  Well, the "Wrecker" much come and remove the "bus". So while T's departure is on one level the result of consequences of past actions, in the Spirit, the bus has now been towed away.

Yet, I do not forget one last thing:  The impact of hitting the bottom.  I know that for every prodigal, there is a pigpen.  The prodigal who looks at the husks, remembers the father's bread, and humbly returns seeking only to serve experiences the father's grace and restoration to sonship.  And God is a most gracious Father.  And most able by the Holy Spirit to convict through the revelation of the husks and the remembrance of the Bread of life.  He it is, the only One, Who can bring this about in T.  And He has promised, as surely as T repents and returns, to restore him to sonship also.  The bus can be restored.

And what are my lessons while all this is happening?  Well, there's faith, and discipline, and patience . . . .

Daniel Fast, Day 12: T Time

So if you're bored with my menu, you'll be happy to note the differences today, even if they're only slight.  Breakfast was pintos and rice.  Lunch was special:  Cooked cabbage spiced with pepper and I don't know what else, and black beans and rice cooked in coconut creme.  There was also meatloaf and a dessert of strawberry cobbler with ice cream, but I didn't partake of those.  The Jamaican-style feast was provided courtesy of the husband of a co-worker who, for whatever reason—the reports of unmitigated delight and greedy pleas for more, maybe—has decided that he likes to cook for us occasionally.  So lost was my palate in delight that not only did I forget that I wasn't supposed to eat white rice, but I forgot times two!  It was scrumptious!  I know now what my milk replacement will be.  Later I had carrots and hummus, and I wrapped it up with a final meal of my own brown rice, raw almonds, and an apple.

I still haven't decided how I ought to feel about my dear Mr. T.  For a little while, at least, he's back.  I'm happy to see him.  For as long as he's around, I mean to enjoy his company, and I pray I can do that without us fighting about things of the Spirit versus things of his spirit, which is part of why he called us quits in the first place.  I didn't think we needed to be fighting, and I tried, we both did, to avoid doing it, but given the circumstances, it's quite understandable.

We believe different things about God, for one thing.  But that's one very huge thing.  For both of us.  And for as long as that is so, for the two of us to walk in agreement is a major challenge.  "How can two walk together," Paul the Apostle asks, "Except they be in agreement?"  Well, they can't.  Not easily.  I don't really have it in me to write out a Bible study lesson about it, but know that while it's extremely important to be able to love my neighbor as myself as Jesus taught—and, as He taught, my neighbor is the person whose path He causes to cross my own, whoever that is—it is also extremely important that the ones closest to me be on the same wavelength with me Spiritually; the closer we are, the more closely in the Spirit we need to agree and flow.   T and I are able to flow together in most things, but in Spiritual matters, we have clashed.  

I won't go into details, but just to give one example, although we both believe of ourselves that we are a Christian, T sees God as an elemental force that permeates all things and people that exist, intelligent but non-relational.  I serve a God who is Creator of all things and people, evidenced by them but distinct from them and reigning over them, Who has created man as a reflection of Himself and Who desires loving relation with man.  T thinks the Bible cannot possibly be the word of God and that it is unreliable.  I believe based on the evidence of my own life and the observable and observed evidence I've seen in other lives around me that it is impossible for the Bible to be anything else but the word of God, and it is, evidently speaking, the most reliable set of documents in existence.  

I have prayed incessantly that Holy Spirit would capture his heart, open his eyes, and cause him to change his mind.  That isn't necessarily one of my prayers for the Daniel Fast, but it is interesting that, in the middle of it, T has returned to prominence in my life, just as I have begun to enter a new season in my Spiritual journey, after accepting his passing out of the mainstream of my life into the periphery, far out on the periphery, perhaps out of it altogether if God willed.  

I'm concerned for the both of us, but I'm not afraid for myself.  I know that Holy Spirit will guard and guide me.  I know that Holy Spirit can convict.  I have my Abba's assurance that He has heard my prayers concerning my friend, and I know that He will answer, in authority and power.  And I know far, far better than to get cocky just because of how God has impacted my life so richly in the so recent past.  I've heard it said, "When God gets to blessin', the devil gets to messin'."  Whatever happens with T—and I'm believing for good, especially regarding the outcome of things of the Spirit where T is concerned—"As for me and my house, we shall serve the LORD."

Daniel Fast, Day 8: Happy Mother's Day To You, Too

I grabbed some raw almonds on the way out the door for the walk up the hill out of the driveway and across the street for church.  When I got back I made myself a lunch of pinto beans with guacamole and a veggie plate with mixed veggie salad and baby carrots topped with plain hummus.  By my side I have a bowl of pinto beans and grits..  I'll be eating them as I type this out.

My mother called me on this Mother's Day, and she wished me a Happy Mother's Day.  Today being that particular day, that makes sense, right?  I mean, considering that she is a grandma, and she couldn't be that if her kids didn't have some, right?  Well, my particular case doesn't quite go that way.  What she's acknowledging, in my case, is my baby that I miscarried nearly 23 years ago.  

When I'm asked, I don't tell people I have any children, because technically, my baby isn't with me.  Never lived outside the womb.  I carried him for 19 weeks and 5 days total, just short of halfway. And then he was gone, miscarried.  I can almost be passive when I talk about it, as long as I don't have to go into detail.  

There are those who will tell me that I should be over it.  There are others who will tell me that he's the lucky one, not having to grow up in the world as it is right now, with all its war, turmoil, economic uncertainty and upset, all the sex, drugs, etc., etc.  Or they'll tell me that I'm lucky because I didn't have to shell out money on someone who would eat my bread, drink my water, sleep in my shelter, and turn on me behaviorally and spit in my face, so to speak.  No one to be a nuisance, or a college-educated drain on my wallet who for all his smarts can do no better than to come back home, grown but not a man.  Any one of a thousand scenarios that could have played out didn't because he never saw the light of day alive. 

It kills me that when people say things like this, they so often tell me the bad that I avoided.  It kills me how cynical some people get to be about the gifts they have.  Children are a gift.  A good gift.

And it's not their fault if you weren't prepared for them when they arrived.  That they cost money you don't have.  That they demand energy you don't have—or want—to give.  That they are more of a responsibility, and less of a return on emotional investment sometimes, than you expected.  That the situation into which you brought them to fix is now made many times worse for their presence in lives where they ultimately were not wanted for themselves alone but rather as a genetic trinket to wave under the nose of someone who really, really, really needs you to get out of his face, because if he did feel anything under all the lust, even the lust is now all gone, and any peripheral emotional spasms have long since ceased and disappeared.  

And sometimes with all the care and planning that you put into having them, raising and teaching them, nurturing and loving them, stuff still happens.  They're people, not puppets you control.  Not automatons for whom you can write a program and upgrade the software.  They're little people.  They pick up everything through their senses, even when those senses don't work exactly the way they're supposed to do.  They grow up and have experiences and opinions you didn't teach them.  They ultimately make decisions that make us feel 10 feet tall or sink us so low that we have to reach way up to touch bottom.  They're little people, with all that is implied.

And the true mother's heart cherishes every one of her children, whatever feelings they may provoke in her moment to moment.  She doesn't romanticize them, but she cherishes them.  She wants for them every good thing, however well or ill they may act.  And when she loses one, by whatever means, she still carries them with her in her heart.  In her heart, their lives are eternal, no matter how long or short they are in time.

So please, don't tell me which of us, I or my son, was "the lucky one".  Because each child is unique, each one precious, and each one is the product, in large part, of what that child experiences at the hands of their parents and those others whom the parents allow into that child's life.  Yes, there are all those other influences over which the parent may have no direct control, but that doesn't negate the parental influence where the parent is there to exert it.  I was raised by my parents for the first five years of my life, before they put me in a boarding school where, for the next 13 years, other adults spent more time with me than they did.  However, I never forgot where home was, and I never forgot who Mama and Daddy were.  Whenever I was with them, they reminded me who I was and whose I was.  They loved me, nurtured me, lessoned me, and poured themselves into me the best they knew how.  To this day, their influence remains strong, woven into the fabric of the adult I am now.  And though I am independent of them, I know full well what would have been my son's first lessons.  I know because they were mine, from Mama and Daddy.  What you pour out into and onto your children, they give it back to you.  In spades.  Through repetition and perpetuation.

I only had a brief time to parent my baby, but I did the best I could in the time I had.  I tried to eat nutritionally, to take care of myself, to follow my obstetrician's directives.  Above all, I loved and wanted him, and I prayed every day that God would help me be to him the best mother I could be.  My last prayers, as his defenseless little body was being pummeled and crushed inside me by the force of medically-induced labor after my natural rhythms stalled, were pleas to God for His mercy on my child.  And when I was offered the chance to hold him and say a proper farewell, I did right by him the best I could.  I held and admired him, his delicate little hands and feet, his little face that marked him so strongly as bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh..  I mourned him long and deeply for many years.  And when the guilt that I felt over his coming, and his going, became more than I could bear, I did the only other thing that I could do for him:  I gave the guilt, and my son himself, into the hands of my God, to do away with the guilt, and to hold my little one safe forever.

There are unknown thousands of thousands of women whose hearts have a place reserved for a child their arms cannot hold.  Some of those children are still alive somewhere, some are in eternity.  And the majority of people who know you probably don't know your story.  But my mother knows my story.  And today, she honored my by letting me know that she has not forgotten, and it was an act of love from her.  I say this because although the circumstances of his coming were not the way she and my father taught me it should be, with a husband by my side, his ring on my hand, his name on my signature, his honor to cover and protect me, my mama was there for me.  She loved me.  And had he been born at term, she would have loved him every bit as much as she loves her other grandchildren; this I know with everything in me.  I say it again:  Her remembrance is a gift of love.  And I thanked her.

Maybe you are such a one, a mother whose child, on earth or in eternity, is in your heart but not in your arms or in your life.  Maybe you have never acknowledged yourself a mother because you felt that not having your child meant that you didn't qualify to call yourself that.  The lord knows how rarely I think of myself in that way.  But I am a mother.  And, if you want that title, so are you.  So if you have no mother to tell you, then from me to you:  Happy Mother's Day!  Hold up your head.  Carry this with you forward and celebrate big next year.  You are not forgotten.  God has not forgotten.

Your child and your heart are safe in His hands.  God has not forgotten.

Daniel Fast, Day 4: Just Saying Hello :-)!

Hi, y'all, I know I said I had a wonderful account that I planned to share with you today of something that happened in the recent past, and I still mean to share it.  Just not today.  I'm really not concentrating very well lately, and the closer it gets to the end of the day, the more effort concentration takes.  Yet, in order to put down my full menu for the day, I need to wait until it's late; otherwise I may miss noting something that day, and I may not remember to make note of it the next day.  So I'm going to keep you in suspense for a little while longer.

I will tell you, though:  I believe that my Lord God has healed my back.  I'm clinging to this in the Spirit, and I'm living toward the complete manifestation of this wonderful reality.  The Daniel Fast that I'm currently doing is a part of that manifestation of healing.  The epicenter of it all came during a powerful Prophetic Conference that recently took place at Miracle Life Ministries International, a relatively new ministry which moved into the neighborhood at the beginning of 2011, not too long after I did.  I'm blessed, in fact, that I actually live very close by!  That whole time was a powerful time for me, in fact.  As I think on it, I was healed, and my life was touched, in more ways than one, particularly during that last session on the Saturday almost two weeks ago now.  Definitely it is a story that deserves its own entry.  I'm just saying:  Glory be to God for His unspeakable gifts to me on that day!

As for this day, I almost hesitate to tell you the menu, lest you think I copy-pasted it from yesterday.  I assure you, I did not :-).  I started off with a handful of raw almonds and a banana.  I actually got in my planned day's walk looking for the place where I bought it.  I bought two of them and two apples.  After I got home, I had a handful of almonds to hold me until I could drain, rinse, and sauté some cut string beans from a can.  I sautéed them in olive oil, with Kosher salt and pepper to season them.  Right before taking them out of the sauce pan, I dashed two capfuls of concentrated lemon juice over them to balance out the oil.  They were good paired with more roasted almonds that I prepared today after getting home.  I still have a few left, and I'm debating eating them with an apple before bed.  These taste better than the ones from last night, because I roasted these at 250ºF.  Healthy or not, it's the high temperature that makes roasting such a flavorful way to cook anything, and there's something to be said for roasting nuts at a high enough temperature to make a difference.  To my back, my almonds, my life—Vive la difference!  And Hallelujah!