Why Is Impossible Even In the English Language?

During Sunday morning's sermon, God and I were conversating.  My pastor said something that took me back to a bible study I did on the 5th of January. (I've been doing the "Jesus Calling: Enjoying Peace in His Presence" by Sarah Young)

Part of the passage says:

"True dependence is not simply asking me to bless what you have decided to do. It is coming to Me with an open mind and heart, inviting Me to plant My desires within you.  I may infuse within you a dream that seems far beyond your reach.  You know that in yourself you cannot achieve such a goal.  Thus begins your journey of profound reliance on me.

 This began a revelation in redefining the word "impossible."  Back to Sunday morning...whatever was said began my pondering on why the word "impossible" is even in the English language.  What does impossible mean if it doesn't exist in God?

My revelatory definition of impossible=the yet unimagined possibilities.  Things only remain impossible until you've imagined the possible as a true scenario which can only be planted by God.

Our ways are not His ways, and His thoughts are not our thoughts, which is why we must wait for Him to share them with us.  I'm working on going beyond my senses and opening up to the infinite possibilities of God.

How about you?

I Shall Put Pen to Paper!

Many people claim that the disciples ended an era of miracles and manifestations of the Holy Spirit.  I am not in agreement, as I take John 14:12-14 to heart when Jesus says that we will do even great things than these.

If you are finding yourself getting frustrated three sentences in, then maybe you should skip this post.  As I want to be honest, but I also do not want to cause anyone to stumble.  This isn't a salvation issue, so please forgive me if I have offended you and feel free skip over this one. :)

I've always been in ministries that operate in the spiritual gifts.  Prophesy, speaking in tongues and the like.  I've received several prophesies and seen many come to fruition and still hold the others in the expectation of God's promise.

When I was fourteen, I was a rising leader in the youth group and was being mentored by the youth minister of the time (who has recently become my senior pastor *praise God!*).  One October 31st, we went to a church that we weren't all that familiar with, but that the ministers had started to connect with.  They held a youth rally and had guest speakers and ministers on the program.  At the end of the rally, they called an altar call.  I can't honestly tell you what it was for, but I'm sure that it had to do with committing for real to a walk for Christ, because almost everyone in the room was pressing forward.  There had to be close to a hundred teens there.  I didn't know the speaker.  In fact, I hadn't seen him before and I hadn't seen him since.

He pointed and looked directly at me and called me forward.  Then he started sharing a heavenly message that didn't make sense until a few years later.  He told me that God had called me to counsel teen mothers.  I was not sexually active, I was really seeking God and trying to find grounding to be a true disciple.  I welcomed this message, as I was already on the path to counselling.  Being one of "wisdom beyond her years," having a home life that required that I matured rather quickly, and always being someone that lead had put me in many situations where peers sought my counsel.  To be honest, I parented my parents, so I guess adults included looked for my counsel.  *Now this counsel wasn't always as developed as it should have been and there has been a price I've paid, especially in my family for the me-counselling vs. the Godly-counselling*

Fast forward three years.  I was now a prominent member of the youth.  I was teaching classes and being sought out for all types of things.  I had parents tell me that they wished their child would be more like me.  I had my own mom make comparisons of me and my cousins, as if she was winning the competition.  Each time I cringed, knowing how damaging it was the the children being spoken to about me as well as the height of the pedestal that I was being placed on.

I was dating a boy at that time that was not saved.  We had been friends and our curiosities and lusts got the better of us.  I ended up having sex with him one time to try and take back control.  Not that it was right or makes anything less damaging, but I broke up with him immediately after, overwhelmed with the guilt of the sin that I found myself in.  I never told anyone, but I repented and repented and repented.  Six weeks later, I found out that I was pregnant.  As scary as it was, there was a solidness about everything.  I never felt out of control or lost.  From the moment I started walking the path of my pregnancy, I never felt alone or abandoned.

I love how God makes provision!  Not that my pregnancy was a provision for the calling, but that the calling was a provision to help me allow myself back into His mercy and grace.

I've been a single-mom for almost 11 years and have testimony after testimony of how God has blessed this situation.  I have yet to find a consistent way to work with teen-moms, but I have had opportunities to pour into the lives of many.

This is one example of God using a messenger to make His divine plans known.  Years and years ago, it was prophesied that I would be published and have a best seller before the age of 40.  This prophesy has dulled a little and I often find myself trying to cope with the possibility that it won't happen.  If there is no expectation, then no disappointment, right?

Yesterday at church, that prophesy was spoken again!  Not the same exact wording, but it was said that I would put pen to paper and be published for His work and His people!

I thank Him for being ever present, ever constant, and infallible.   

What promises has God made that you're still waiting on or losing hope for?  Remember that faith is for the unseen things!  Hold on!  He will finish His good work in you.  He didn't even hold back His son from you.  What other good things then is He waiting and willing to give you?

Be encouraged!

Physical Attacks

It's funny the things that make sense retrospectively.

When I was in college, I really wanted to learn to distinguish the voice of God.  My mentor instructed me to start recording what I thought was His voice, respond to everything and then watch and see what clicks.

It was amazing when I would share with people what God had said and they would confirm that it was the exact word they needed at that time.

Shortly after making these discoveries I came down with the worst strep throat I had ever experienced.  My throat felt as if it was splitting and I could not get relief, not even through sleep. I had my parents drive me to the emergency room at 3 in the morning because I absolutely couldn't wait until morning to get it looked at.

The next day, my mentor called me.  His first words, "You know what's happening, don't you?"

My thoughts: I know that my throat is trying to kill me slowly.

He answered his own question, "You are hearing the voice of God and the enemy can't interfere with it.  So he has literally stopped you from being able to talk back."

What?!?!?!  

Since then, every time I have had major changes in my spiritual life I have always suffered some sort of physical malady.

If you've read my first couple of posts, I have had some MAJOR breakthroughs in my life recently!!!

I have finally gotten a revelation of forgiveness that I haven't had in the 15 years I have actively been walking this faith.

I have been freed from so much!  God is leaving nothing untouched.  
I am walking in my freedom!  
I will not be taken back!  
I am no longer a captive!

So...

What did I do you ask?  I simply walked.

I didn't twist it.  I didn't fall.  I didn't trip.  I was wearing socks and tennis shoes that fit properly and were laced.  I simply walked on it and now there is a pain in the center of my foot and three lumps that are not my ankle on the outside of my foot.

A pain that only hurts when I walk.  The pain doesn't go away with Aleve, muscle/joint rubs, or ice/heat.  It can be alleviated, but not removed.

Am I worried?  No.

God is God.  He knows the trials I will face and has pre-equipped me.  I will continue to move forward, even if I have do so on crutches.

My Testimony: Freedom

I am forgiven and walk in forgiveness.

I am a single mom.  

When I was seventeen, I gave my virginity to my "experienced" boyfriend [of the same age].

I had full knowledge of what I was doing.  

I even knew what brokenness was in operation.

However, I did not know that it was unprotected.  

We had the talks, his mom had even taken us to a store and purchased contraception "in case".  

I thought it was well understood and agreed upon.  

Yet, that fateful night, in my naivety, I was sacrificed for his pleasure.

Once done and dealing with the shame and guilt of what I had just done, he told me about the selfish choice he had made.  Shocked and stunned into numbness, I spoke those fateful words, "I'm pregnant."

His response, "God wouldn't let you get pregnant your first time."

Indignation rose up on the inside of me.  How dare he make a statement like that after knowing how I had just betrayed my savior?  If it wasn't in the plans for me to get pregnant, then the power of my thoughts brought it about.  I was so sure that there was no other outcome for this action.  It was inevitable.  How could you do what I did and say what he said and not pay a price?

Six weeks later, it was confirmed.  I was carrying a child of an ex-boyfriend that represented more guilt and shame than I had ever experienced.  Not because of what people would think, although that was always a lurking, secondary worry, but more because I knew better.  

I was so angry.  

I still fight that anger.  

I'm wasn't irate that I was pregnant, but because I was sacrificed...again.

The bigger issue, every important person in my life has sacrificed me at one time or another.  

My parents sacrificed me and my brother for their mess.  

Time and time again it seemed that we were inappropriately laid on the alter.

So how do I forgive these people?  How do I forgive the ones who were expected, who promised to guard my heart?  How do I forget the searing pain?

By recognizing that they were nothing more than tools.  Tools used by both the enemy and God.

Let me explain: The enemy has always tried to destroy me one way or another.  He sees the calling and protection of God on my life and constantly looks for ways to get a foothold.  

I almost died when I was a toddler from asthma, drowning, and falling out of a window.

I've been in car crashes.  I've almost bled to death in child birth.  I've had many close calls.

I've been physically abandoned. I've been physically abused.  I've been emotionally abused.  I've been psychologically abused.  

All by those who were charged with my protection.

Yet I'm still free.  

I have watched God completely transform me and my family.  

I've seen Him turn the ugliness in us all to gold.  

I've been a vessel for him.  

Completely unworthy, yet still redeemed and restored.

My child's father made a mistake.  He may have sacrificed me, but God saw it as an opportunity of training.  In ten years, I have never looked like a typical single-mom in any way.  He has covered every weakness and given me an amazing child who is a vessel of joy and peace.

This training birthed a ministry to help others see who God has created them to be in the midst of the storm.  To be victorious and free.  To be able to walk out of the cell that God has already opened the door to.  

And then to go back and beckon others into their freedom.

God created a hero out of the flames of my life.  

What the enemy meant for my bad, God not only intended, but efficiently and effectively used for my good.

So, even though the enemy meant to use all of those in my life for my demise, I forgive you.  For you knew not what you did.  You didn't know the extent of your actions.  I don't believe that any of you, if you would have seen beforehand the destruction it would leave behind, would have done any of the things that you did.

I forgive you and release you from responsibility.

Thank you Jesus for your example.  The people didn't know who they were crucifying.  They didn't know that they were fulfilling the prophesy to make way for salvation.  Jesus, you didn't hold a single person responsible  but cried out for their forgiveness.

Lord, if any of the people that I've held unforgivness for struggles with shame and guilt from these occurrences  please free them.

Break the chains and let them walk victoriously and freely as the creature that you called into existence.

For he who the Son sets free is free indeed!

My Testimony: In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost

When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too.  And as he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove.  And a voice came from heaven: "You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased." 

Luke 3:21-22

I have been baptized twice in my life.  We used to have revivals at a hotel ballroom and would follow the service with baptisms in the indoor pool.  

I don't remember much about my baptism, other than my nerves being on edge.  

I'm a die hard nose-holder and was worried about other people being in control of dunking me and getting me up in time or interfering with my nose-holding and my lungs flooding with chlorinated water.

I understood that baptism was the "next step."  That it was an outward expression of the inward changes.

You go down a sinner, dead in your flesh.

You rise out of the water, alive and resurrected.

As a child, it was something I did.

Recently I was baptized again [Like 10 days ago].  I have joined a new ministry and have experience some amazing growth and freedoms that I wanted to do it again.  I wanted to do an outward expression of the inward changes.

BUT this time I wanted to be baptized with expectation.

My request: God, please change my name!  You turned Abram to Abraham.  You changed Jacob to Israel.  You changed Saul to Paul.

I wanted my name to change.  I wanted to come up a new person.  Solidly in their purpose and walking steadfast.  I wanted the same.

Even before I entered the water, the Holy Spirit had me in tears.  God's presence was thick and His love was overwhelming.

Excitement shook me as I went down.  I don't remember anything between entering the water and then raising.  It is all void and darkness in my memory.  I didn't experience any emotion or thoughts, I guess it really was like death.

Then once I had risen, God descended.  I remember my Pastor saying to now receive it and a force hit my stomach.  Nothing literally hit me, but my gut felt the pressure of His presence and then forgiveness flooded.

Forgiveness for myself.  For all the mistakes I had made.  For all the fights I had instigated against God.  Forgiveness for my pride and my own unforgiveness.

October 28, 2012 is a day that will make an amazing transformation.

A day that forgiveness was no longer something I had to convince myself of, but something I walked in.  Fourteen years of lacking this revelation lead to so much frustration.

It shouldn't be that easy.  I shouldn't just feel sorrow and repent and then be done.  There should be a spanking or grounding.  There should be lightening and thunder.  There should at least be a scolding tone.

What kind of punishment is love and affection?  How am I to believe that you have forgiven me when you shine your favor rather than your wrath?

In that moment, my intellect was finally silenced as I truly accepted that I am His.  I am continually forgiven.  His mercies are made new every morning!

Finally I understand: I AM FORGIVEN!

My Testimony: Trying to Stab God in the Heart

Almost fourteen years ago, I was sitting in a youth class on a Wednesday night at a church that I had been attending for about four years, questioning how God could claim to be who He is.  My parents were involved in various auxiliaries and I was at church three to four times a week.  In all of our church-going, my family couldn't seem to grasp the concept of carrying their salvation home.  Our house was filled with hell.  

My parents divorced, my mom left us, then my dad checked out.  Shortly after they swapped roles and my dad left and my mom checked out.  I was ten, scared, and trying to care for my two-year-old brother.  My mom then married one of the reasons for my parent's divorce, only cutting us innocents even the deeper and compounding issue on issue.

How could God really care?  How could He let so much happen to children?  Anger became my armor and bitterness my shield.  I was fed-up with the mess that the adults in my life had created, leaving me to pick up the pieces.

I sat on a bench, checked out from the lesson being taught, screaming on the inside.  Seething with venom for this God who could allow such things.  That sat by why I felt like I was bleeding to death.  Where was my rescue?  Where was my salvation now?

Knowing that blaspheming the Holy Spirit was the only true way to concrete the void between me and this God, I tried.  I tried several times to figure out how to complete the separation.  Spitting in God's face as the internal dialogue raged on inside of me despite my calm demeanor on the outside.

Class ends.  Church is dismissed.  And in my innermost darkness, I sense a stirring.  Before I could get out of his reach, God's messenger came.  A youth minister who was a little too enthusiastic for most people's taste.  He began to look at me with piercing eyes, causing me to shift in my discomfort, and then began to share in my internal conversation without being invited or informed of its existence.

"You do care."  My insides trembled.  No I didn't.  I didn't care anymore.  God obviously didn't care.  Look at what He allowed to happen.  

"You do care and so does He."  The tears began to warm my ducts as I fought to not let them expose themselves.  How dare he chime in on something he knew nothing about.  Something He knew nothing about.

Within a few moments, the minister's words began to pull back the veil of the infected wounds of my heart.  Then the most amazing thing happened...God revealed himself.

No I didn't see God in the room, but I felt His hand touch my heart.  I felt His love surround me on every side, inside and out.  I no longer had control of my emotions...tears fell, my heart bled, and a warm sensation set over me.  All of a sudden, the very accusations I set against Him, were voided.  He did care.  He cared enough to not just send His Son in preparation for our separation, but to track me, pursue me, to hold me while I kicked and screamed in His arms as the infection was lanced out of my wounds.

He took a little girl who hated the world.  Hated her parents and tried to hate He who loved her.  Who actively sought separation while He continued to pursue her.  That night I was saved from all that held me down.  As I tried to stab Him in the heart, He started healing the broken places.

He stopped the lives of other people that night to reach out and touch me.  He returned my venom with an overwhelming flood of love.

Then He took my heart in His hands and gently started reactivating the dead the places.  He didn't give me a lecture.  He didn't look disapprovingly at me.  He just gently gave me life in all the dead places.

I was so bound.  I felt like a mummy in my own skin.  Completely wrapped up and unable to be anything worthwhile.  He loosed me inside of myself.  He freed me and told me of His creation [ME!].  Of the wonderful creature He created to walk in freedom and lead others to the place of His love.

Never condemning me.  Ever patient and gentle, continually washing me and keeping me.  Keeping me better than I could or ever have kept myself.

Fourteen years later, He has never forsaken me.  He has never been swayed by my tantrums or taken back His investment.  Despite my best arguments that I wasn't worth anything, He continues to show His greatness to me and in me.

The night I tried to stab God in the heart, He reached down and engulfed me in His love.  What a God I serve!

The journey has not been without bumps, but I have never been alone or unequipped to deal with all that has happened.  Even the darkest of days do not compare to the darkness that threatened to engulf me fourteen years ago.  Nor has His intervention and warm embrace been withheld from me since that day.