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Posts Tagged ‘Holy Spirit’

It’s a process, this sowing and reaping thing. Generally, this pairing is used as a metaphor for the bad things that happen in our lives, but of course, good planting makes for good results. Unfortunately, the good seeds seem to grow a lot slower than all the rest.

Hosea 10:12
Sow righteousness for yourselves, reap the fruit of unfailing love, and break up your unplowed ground; for it is time to seek the LORD, until he comes and showers his righteousness on you.

I’m not really much of a gardener so I’m sure I’ll play havoc with this metaphor but there are some pictures that come to mind. For instance, the last time I tried to prepare and plant a 10×10 foot vegetable garden in my back yard.

Soil preparation was a complete nightmare. We live in one of those developments and didn’t realize how much refuse is buried on a lot before or while they are building a house. I found huge globs of cement, parts of boards, rocks, and even empty cans in that small plot of land I was trying to plow up by hand. And of course, the soil was as hard as could be. We finally had to buy top soil to dig into the original dirt which was worthless (it’s a wonder that grass could grow).

Finally, I got the dirt to look somewhat welcoming to a small starter plant or seed. And this was probably the best part of the process, the actual sowing or planting. Little did I know that the next challenges would be equally daunting: deer from the woods could easily hop over our split rail fence, our dogs and cats liked the new fresh soil for digging and leaving personal gifts, the weeds were indistinguishable from the plants (to my untrained eye), and the Maryland weather offered no assistance whatsoever.

So, after all that, what did I reap? Two broccoli heads, scrawny tomatoes, wilted lettuce, holey peppers, and three carrots of diminutive size. Go ahead and laugh. It’s a willow tree now anyway.

I’m glad the Holy Spirit is a better gardener/farmer than me. Oh, I know, I still have to participate, but I think the overall procedure is in God’s hands if I release my control, my time table, and my expectations.

Just keep doing the “right” thing, as best I can. Again and again and again. Keep trusting. Keep forgiving. Keep asking for forgiveness.

In both Mark 4:8 and 4:20 in the parable of the sower, I am promised a 30-60-100 fold return, but there is no promise about when.

Sowing in the Spirit realm is a marathon, not a sprint.

I love the idea of “unfailing love.” In this phrase is hope and promise, persistence and progress. I am actually living in the midst of unfailing love right now, no matter what my circumstances might try to negate. I have planted with Christ. Now, I must stand and give thanks because those other roads I could have taken, back there in my past, would have destroyed my garden altogether, I’m sure.

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Fabric on Wood by Shellie

God is not a moving target. I may feel like it sometimes, but in my heart, I know, it’s not a God-problem, it’s a “me” problem. I am the one fluctuating between sensitivity to God’s presence and isolationism. Solution: grab hold when my pendulum swings in close.

Isaiah 55:6
Seek the LORD while he may be found;
call on him while he is near.

None of us can expect to be on a mountaintop for long; it’s not realistic. No matter how wondrous the climb or ecstatic the view, the air is thin, food and water must be found and consumed, shelter a necessity: life goes on. I can’t expect my times in pure God awareness to be sustained either. This is undoubtedly one of the reasons why ascetics, monks, or hermits disconnect themselves intentionally from the material world, it’s the only way to preserve that connection over a longer period. But even they must address their physical needs eventually. It’s part of being human.

That means, when I do have those moments of closeness to the Holy Spirit, when I do sense God nearby, I must cherish that time. I must be alert: awake! To chart those waters, I must look and listen (with inner eyes and ears). And remember!

This is why I journal, why I blog, to help me remember that moment, that revelation or epiphany. Otherwise, those understandings disappear into the ether of my subconscious. There, but not there, not easily accessible.

Mark the time. Mark the day. Catch the petals in the wind.

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Matrix


How long? Maybe forever without intervention. Am I living within a mirage? Am I seeing what I want to see instead of what is there? Am I in the simulated reality of some matrix that I cannot readily perceive? Have I allowed myself to believe in a lie? A delusion? How would I know?

Psalm 4:2
How long will you people turn my glory into shame?
How long will you love delusions and seek false gods [lies]? Selah.

I am not the only one. Living in denial is fairly common. And why? Because stepping out of that state denial may mean facing some difficult truths. I’m pretty sure this cannot be done alone. Why would someone in denial stop living that way by choice? No, something would have to happen, some kind of wake up call.

Some common forms of denial manifest in people who are entrenched in addictive lifestyles: everything from drinking to drugs, pornography to hoarding. These habits become the norm.

My daughter was diagnosed with fibromyalgia at 18 after we adopted her at almost 16. She was living in a constant state of fluctuating pain. She didn’t know that other people did not hurt when they got out of bed every morning or have aching hands, feet, knees, and back every day. She thought everyone lived with pain but she was merely less tolerant than most. How does one learn how to live without pain when that is all a person has known? Would she even recognize the absence of pain?

Some people live in a fog when it comes to relationships. As a result, they explain away physical, mental, and emotional abuse. The abuser is always sorry, after all; the abuser promises to never do that again; the abuser is a delusion.

Lord, forgive me if I have continued to love the delusion. Open my eyes. Reveal deception, my own and others. Shorten the time of my mistakes; restore to me the years that the locusts have eaten [Joel 2:25a]. Give me understanding and wisdom and courage to confront my demons, my deceptions, my false gods and idols. Selah.

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After 70 years, when Jewish exiles returned to Jerusalem and the Second Temple reconstruction was completed and dedicated by the shedding of much animal blood, they celebrated the Passover, eager to seek God through their age-old rituals and traditions. They were home.

Ezra 6:21
So the Israelites who had returned from the exile ate it [Passover lamb], together with all who had separated themselves from the unclean practices of their Gentile neighbors in order to seek the LORD, the God of Israel.

What is my first order of business upon returning home from a long absence? Although I have no hard and fast religious practices to resume, I am anxious to get back into my routine. There is comfort in the familiar. I am happy to greet my dogs and take them outside. I peruse the mail, I make a cup of tea.

There are very few things that I can only do at home and yet, when I do, I am more contented. I can pray anywhere, but when I sit in my favorite chair, I fall into a quick communion with Christ. I can read scripture when I am away, any access will get me there, but my well-worn black leather Bible still comforts me by feel and sound, as the thin pages crackle.

Returning to church after a time away is also consoling with the familiar music and warm engagement with friends. For me, even my work, which can feel redundant and tedious sometimes, breathes into me when I walk through the door, breathes welcome.

There are amazing stories of families who have been separated by years and years through political insanity, such as the Berlin wall that divided East and West Germany or the Iron Curtain or the North Korean Demilitarized Zone, still active today. But when those barriers came down, families found one another again and fell upon each other joy and weeping. The touch of a beloved one.

Even I, when I met my half sister (who lives in Estonia) for the first time in 1996, we embraced fiercely, for we were bound by blood, the same father, and it sustained us. On the same trip, I met my aunt, my mother’s sister for the first time, and her heart exploded when we clung to each other. I was in foreign lands where I did not speak the language well, where homes were completely different from my own, where the culture had suffered from the cruel and powerful through communism, and yet, I was also home.

In May of this year, I will be retracing my steps and re-uniting again my half-sister and aunt. And my heart craves for that time together.

This is a type of longing that God wants me to have for the Holy Spirit every day.

“Come away, my beloved . . . ” [Song of Solomon 8:14a]; come home.

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We tend to forget that our behaviors are being scrutinized. Not so much by casual acquaintances and co-workers (although somewhat), but mostly by the children and teenagers in our lives. They don’t look like they are even paying attention. Don’t be fooled.

II Chronicles 34:3
In the eighth year of his reign, while he [Josiah] was still young [16 years old], he began to seek the God of his father David. In his twelfth year he began to purge Judah and Jerusalem of high places, Asherah poles and idols.

Josiah was the grandson of Manasseh, one of the most notorious kings to rule Judah. Manasseh ruled for 55 years and up until his last years, played havoc with the country doing everything he could to destroy the foundations of faith through mockery, idol worship, and decadent priests and priestesses who proselytized for other gods. He even sacrificed his own children to these gods. But in his last years, Manasseh was overthrown and taken to Babylon with a ring in his nose. He was humbled. In that place, he sought out his one true God who heard him and restored his to throne. This was an abrupt about face, a transformation.

Who was watching? A little boy named Josiah who was just old enough to understand, just old enough to absorb the impact, just old enough to remember.

There was another who saw the change, Manasseh’s son Amon who became king after him. But Amon did not believe in the change in his father and he pushed Judah back toward the pagan gods for two years before he was assassinated. Apparently, there were others who had watched Manasseh’s metamorphosis and believed.

When young kings come to power (Josiah was only eight when he was crowned), there is usually a regent who handles the daily affairs and instruction of the boy-king. This person is not named but we can extrapolate his presence. Whoever he was, he set a standard that set Josiah on a different path, that gave him a thirst for knowing the God of his forefathers.

My children never knew me before I walked with God. They never saw those years of transition from living a degenerate life to living in God through the Holy Spirit. But I know many people whose children and grandchildren have seen the adults in their lives take a shift for good.

It is never too late to change. The children are watching.

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Art by Joseph Liner

Thirty two years ago, I responded to a nation-wide call to Christians around the country to fast and pray in Washington, D.C. II Chronicles 7:14 was the keystone verse to that call and that day became known as Washington for Jesus. I arrived with national hope for healing but left with disappointment.


II Chronicles 7:14
“. . . if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”

I had taken the call seriously. I traveled a long way, prepared myself to fast, and meditated on the scriptures. In my imagination, the Mall would be filled with prayer like in the days of David and Solomon and the Shekinah glory would fall. Instead, there was amplified praise music and prayer from the stage area, political rhetoric, picnics, vendors selling “Jesus Junk,” street proselytizing, and tracts, tracts, tracts. Hope was being directed to a political agenda and not to the instruction and promises God had given to Solomon.

Granted, it is much more difficult to turn a country’s focus. Change begins at the grass roots level, it begins with the individual.

So, here are the steps to healing that I have gleaned from this scripture. This is where I must begin:

  1. Know who you are. God is speaking to the “people called by my name.” Am I a child of God? I am. I have accepted God’s authority over my life.
  2. Humble yourself. As long as I believe my way is the best way, I can interfere with the divine plan. Humility with others is tough; with God, moreso.
  3. Pray. There are thousands of ways to pray, from casual chat to ritualized liturgy. They are all useful as long as the heart is bent toward God.
  4. Seek God’s face. A little different from prayer, but certainly an aspect of prayer, this seeking implies expectation. If I am told to seek then I am expected to find. The key is understanding that God’s face is reflected in a myriad of ways including the faces of human beings.
  5. Turn aside from the old ways and habits. This is probably the most difficult step if it’s done out of order. It’s not just a quarter turn, it’s a 180. It’s a decision. I don’t even have to walk in that new direction, just turn, and God will show up.

These are steps that will bring healing to any situation. And physical healing? I don’t know, perhaps that too. Perhaps, as the heart and soul are healed, the body follows. But I can’t speak with any authority about that, I have not yet grappled with serious illness.

The promises are threefold if we follow the five steps: God will hear, God will forgive, and God will heal.

I am reminded of the four friends who broke through a ceiling to lower their paralyzed friend down to Jesus [Mark 2:3-5] and it’s revealing to me that Jesus forgave his sins first.

I don’t know how to bring a nation around, but I believe we could start with our own lives. The “land” is basic, it’s the foundation of our Earth. What is foundational in our daily lives?

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When God searches my heart, I believe it’s a cooperative effort. In other words, I don’t think God is lurking around my heart and soul without my acquiescence (not that God couldn’t, but doesn’t). If I practiced more mindfulness and stayed in tune with the Holy Spirit, the process would be deeper.


I Chronicles 29:9a
And you, my son Solomon, acknowledge the God of your father, and serve him with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for the LORD searches every heart and understands every desire and every thought.

I don’t believe God searches my heart like an airport full-body x-ray scan, where I am humiliated and exposed by the discoveries God might make about me. God is not looking for weapons of mass destruction or examining my heart just to find the mistakes and evil lurking there. Instead, God is teaching me about myself and about my Spirit-self. God is lighting up my interior.

Depending on my willingness to learn, God will do a basic search or a more advanced one. If I am closed off to the idea of transparency and truth, if my fears about my past and future are more powerful than my desire to know, then God’s search is less invasive. Holy Spirit, as teacher and guide, operates at my pace. I can choose to remain at a cursory level or I can open the closet doors, the cellar doors, and the attic drop down ladder.

This is a trust issue. The more I can trust God, the more likely I will go deeper into the heart of God within.

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