Lord -- Whatever It Takes

Almost 3 years ago I prayed to the Lord: "Lord, do whatever it takes to make us {our family} on fire for you again." I hesitated when I prayed it. But the Lord answered it in ways I never imagined and I have no regrets for the trials He has allowed in my life to refine me in His fire. We can't share in His glory if we can't share in His sufferings. There is something about suffering for the Lord-whether it be physical, emotional, or persecution- when we choose to praise Him, something supernatural happens within us. One day I was particularly depressed because, for the second time after praying that prayer above, our family of six was facing eviction and we had done nothing wrong and our rent was on time. This day I read "Morning by Morning" by Charles H. Spurgeon, Nov. 3rd entry:

©2007 Wendy T

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It Sometimes Requires A Bit Of Sweat

I remember keeping my mother company as she took care of the laundry in the early sixties. Often, we'd pass the time by watching an old portable black and white TV my mother would set up on the kitchen counter. As we'd watch series such as "I Dream of Jeanie", "Bewitched" and "The Flinestones", I would marvel how easily tasks would be done on these shows. A combination of crossing your arms and blinking would see your messy kitchen become spotless, a wriggle of your nose would clean a whole house and if you were lucky enough, you had a wooly mammoth wash and rinse your car.

These fantasies were a far cry from the reality we lived as a lower middle-class family. We had an wringer washer and our clothes were dried by old fashioned solar power via a clothes line in our backyard. I'd bury my face to take a whiff of the freshly-laundered towels before folding them and the scent of sun-dried laundry still is one of my favourite fragrances. Another one of my self-appointed tasks was to sort the laundry into two categories. Articles that needed ironing and articles that did not need ironing. Given the times, the ironing pile would greatly surpass the non-ironing pile. I would further sort through the non-ironing pile; separating socks that needed darning, shirts that needed buttons and hems that needed repair. In the meantime, my mother would set up the ironing board, stir the stew as it simmered on the stove and check on the younger children as they played. As much as my mother might have fantasied about having her work done for her by a single bat of an eyelash, she knew that it just wasn't that simple.

I firmly believe, through the study of the bible and personal first-hand experience, that I serve a God who still performs miracles today. I see thousands of prayer requests posted each year thorough the online prayer ministry that I oversee and many people report back as they see the hand of God move in their situations. However, I often wish that by simply posting a request that all the heart-breaking grief and pain of the posters would be instantly dealt with. The majority of requests cite broken marriages, children in dire trouble with the law, financial ruin, church splits and family crises. Many of these situations have evolved over several years, stemming from generational patterns of drug abuse, domestic violence and chronic poverty. The agony and desperation of their immediate plights are evident in their poignant requests. "Take the pain away now.... I lost my job again, God, I can't seem to hold a job down, and what are we going to do? I don't want to drink anymore, God... Lord, I'm addicted to porn, help me... I going to lose my house God ... My daughter's married to a child abuser ... bring my family back to me, please, why won't my wife be the wife I want her to be?" The Lord graciously answers such heart cries with both immediate if temporal comfort and the offer of lasting healing and freedom from deep-rooted sin structures and harmful life patterns. God's comfort is usually welcomed with open arms, after all, who doesn't like a hug from their Heavenly Father? Many people walk away at that point, satisfied with the quick hug but afraid of what the Lord might require of them in order that they can walk into freedom and see the lives of those they love be touched by the Lord as well. Often, the Lord asks us to work with him, receiving and following through on counsel offered through our local church or trusted professionals. Perhaps he might provide us with the opportunity to receive financial healing through teaching and mentoring so we will no longer have to walk through the uncertainty of economic ruin again. Often, the Holy Spirit convicts us of specific sins in our lives, asking us to repent and turn in a new direction. He might direct us to open up to a trusted pastor or a family member about our hidden addictions and to humble ourselves and admit to those around us that we are in trouble. In his loving mercy, he wants to see his people set free and he longs to see his children continue within that freedom. Sometimes, that healing can only come through choosing to walk alongside him, no matter where he leads and no matter how onerous we might receive the task he sets before us. After all, there is little heart satisfaction in starting a marathon only to detour a quarter of the way through and take the subway to the finish line instead. The true victors are the ones with sweat on their brow, worn out shoes and honest, triumphant grins upon their faces.

January 19, 2005

Christianity must be practical. Two children were afraid they would be late for school. One said, "Let's kneel down and pray to God that He may help us not to be late." The other child offered a more practical solution: "No, let's run and pray at the same time."

Anonymous
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©2008 Katherine Walden

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Holy, Holy

Holy, Holy is the name of God.
Righteous and just are God's actions.
God never fails promises.
God sees the dark corners of my soul
where cobwebs fear to hide.
God has traced the Name on my palms
and it races with every beat of my heart
through and through my veins.
Dispeler of doubt, Comforter of the afflicted,
Advocate of the oppressed, Father of the orphan,
glorious are the names of God.
Cry holy, holy is the name of God.

©2008 A.T. Leverton

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The view was remarkable. Up Central Drive, dog-leg at Hyde Park. Huff and puff up Cardiac Climb to the stunning summit. I could see forever. The town looked like a collection of doll houses and Matchbox cars. Frosted with steaming curls of fog and cloud, an outrageous expanse of ocean sounded far below to the north.

I've tackled Cardiac Climb before, but always from a different direction. This morning I opted for a change and climbed, panting, to the panoramic vista from the other side. The view of the harbor was the same. But I wasn't.

Soaking up the intermittent sun on this gray-blue morning, a thought hit me, snagged my attention: that was a good change in my physical routine. What about a change in my mental routine? You see, I spent several unproductive weeks mentally rehearsing wounds inflicted by a "former friend." You know the drill. She said. I said. She replied. I should've, could've would've said.... Replayed over and over...

Why? the Father nudged. What are you accomplishing with that?

Perched atop Cardiac Climb, it occurred to me that maybe my physical routine wasn't the only thing that needed an overhaul. Not that I was doing this deliberately, or even consciously. Nevertheless, damaging, discouraging thoughts of disappiontment, defeat, betrayal and cynicism slithered into the cerebral hard drive unguarded.

It was time for a something new. It took me awhile, but I finally realized that beating my head against said wall was having little effect beyond keeping me bloody and band-aided. No amount of dazzling rhetoric or stunning elocution can change a heart. Only He can do that. So I decided to change my mental routine. Rather than a useless, unproductive rehearsal of the past, I chose to let her go. I lifted my hands to the Lord and mentally placed my friend--and any future He may or may not will for me with her--onto His shoulders. "Father, this burden is too heavy for me. Will you carry this, too?" The result? Peace.

A change in perspective is refreshing. I wonder what He'll show me next from the backside of Cardiac Climb?

© Kristine Lowder
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Late at night while I'm sleeping
I can hear God's voice while he is speaking.
I can hear his words of comfort and joy,
Words of love that I may rejoice:

My child you know I'll walk with you
And hold your hand through painful trails.
I will never leave your side,
I'll wipe away all tears from your eyes.

And my child when that day has came
You'll have a new body and a new name.
You'll only know a smile then
In my glorious, peaceful, place to den:

I have a mansion built just for you,
And it has many, many rooms.
When it feels like your alone
Don't worry my child you're coming home.

You'll be at peace forever more
When I say 'Well done,' and open the doors.
You'll be at home when I close the gates
Just remember my child, I cant wait.

© Tammy J. Winslett
TammyWinslett@publishedauthors.net
As of May 2012, "WHATEVER IS PURE" ARCHIVES will no longer be seeking submissions. As most authors and poets now have their own blogs, we noticed a significant drop in submissions over the past year and felt it was best to move on to other endeavors.

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