We are NOT Powerless!
Read and Pray
Is She Right? Can We Get Along?
No, No, No! is the answer to vaccine pressure.
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Hooray for Insomnia
I was hoping it was at least 3:00 a.m. It was 1:30. But that was OK actually, and here’s why: I had put my jeans and writing shirt (more on that later) out before bed, right along with my water, Bible, scribble book, journal, pens and highlighers, and devotions. I was ready to sneak into John’s office (where the chairs are comfy and the computer cooperative) and have myself a little time with Jesus. Remember the song? So let us have a little talk with Jesus, let us tell Him all about our troubles . . .
I did have some troubles, as I woke from a disturbing dream and wanted to make sense of it, if sense could be made. But those troubles went away pretty quickly as I prayed and then found great teaching on YouTube.
It took a while to get through 2.5 sermons (I’ve paused in the middle of the third sermon to write this post) because I was taking notes, pausing to pray, pausing to sing scripture to God (I don’t sound all that bad and I know He likes my singing. I just know.) I also paused to pass on a sermon to people I think/hope will be blessed.
And let me admit it. I also passed it on to someone I think needs it. As do I. Especially the parts about remaining strong in such a time as this. How? Via meditating on the Word of God. Again, how? Well, let’s begin by saying it’s not how I recently heard a success guru say he does it–he “meditates” ten minutes.
Psalm 1:1-3 is helpful: Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the path of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the scornful; But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law he meditates day and night. (That’s verses 1 and 2–I’ll leave you to see this man’s reward in verse 3.)
Here’s most of what the Word Wealth in my Bible says–“meditates” hagah (hah-gah; Strong’s #1897: to reflect; to on, to mutter; to ponder; to make a quiet sound such as sighing; to meditate or contemplate something as one repeats the words. Hagah represents something quite unlike the English “meditation,” which may be a mental exercise only. In Hebrew thought, to meditate upon the Scriptures is to quietly repeat them in a soft, droning sound, while utterly abandoning outside distractions. From this tradition comes a specialized type of Jewish prayer called “davening,” that is, reciting texts, praying intense prayers, or getting lost in communion with God while bowing or rocking back and forth. Evidently this dynamic form of meditation-prayer goes back to David’s time.
This is how we receive the Biblical promise of a renewed mind. I, for one, am in great and continual need of this. I think thoughts and act ways I don’t agree with! They’re not the real me. They’re distortions and deceptions based on the lies of my enemy. But they’re always decreasing in power as God’s power overcomes through Biblical meditation.
I think I won’t call it insomnia, which implies being unable, but wanting, to sleep. I think I’ll call it a wee hours assignation with the Lover of my soul. Hooray for Hagah!
Making COVID Bread! Amen!
I have e-mailed this after watching twice and praying much that it will be seen and heard and RECEIVED. I pray that you will consider not the messenger, use none of your filters (“Oh, I know that guy, he’s one of those”) and too, pass this on. We’ve had this giant in our lives long enough!
“Thank You for Not Yelling at Me!”
That was the response of the beautiful and unmasked woman I talked to today at Scheel’s. And I could so relate. I’ll return to this story, but first let’s talk about getting yelled at.
It was yesterday and along with a friend in a local grocery store, I was maskless. I was picking out mushrooms when I heard someone say, “Thank you, Ladies.” She was thanking us for joining her in resisting the evil, unlawful, useless, stupid, unhealthy, devisive edict (not a law) to wear masks in Colorado.
Now, before I go on with getting yelled at, let me give you some background. I had discussed my reasons for wearing masks in small businesses, with my friend, who never, no not ever, wears a mask. I explained to her that I know of busybodies who call the health department, whose little minions then come and exercise their newfound power by threatening small business owners over not policing their stores.
Since small businesses are falling like rain in our state (this before a possible Biden Admin $15.00 minimum wage, which will be, according the those I’ve talked to, the end) I don’t want to add to their problems, and therefore I wear the stupid, useless, stifling, germ-filled, unhealthy, unlawful, and did I mention stupid and useless masks (if you don’t believe me, stop listening to the establishment media and so some research, such as Dr. Lee Merritt’s findings-see the bottom of this post). My friend was swayed not at all, but did talk to the store owners, saying, “Do you want my business or not? I’ll shop without a mask, or I’ll not shop at all. It’s up to you.” They assured her they wanted her business and so I joined her in, gasp, showing my entire face.
Back to the lady who thanked us for daring to show our faces in public, our buddy-in-bravery, Sherry. We’re having a great time. Sherry explains that her son was just fired for not wearing his mask on a construction site, but that the day was still marvelous as she’d talked a 19-year-old out of an abortion earlier in the day. She talked about how she and her husband left their mega church due to its pitiful and pathetic and faithless reponse to our evil state government’s unlawful edicts, about treating COVID with Ivermectin, about this and that, and so much more.
And then. From across the produce section and over by the deli, we hear a shout, “Put on your masks!” Sherry says, “Are you protecting me with that mask? I Conceal Carry, and I’m protecting you.”
This is not the kind of person who approves of Conceal Carry. This is the type of jello person (and she looks the part) who will hide under the tomatoes and scream and cry and beg and plead with a shooter. And die. My buddy adds her two-cents about the masks being worthless, and our assailant is yet unmoved.
It’s my turn. “We’re not supposed to live in fear,” I call out.
“I’m not afraid,” she yells.
“Yes, you are. We’re commanded by Jesus not to fear.”
Game over. She’s gone.
The moral of this story: Whatever the problem, situation, or conversation–Jesus is the Answer.
Back to Lady Beautiful in Scheels.
I’m standing next to John who is checking out and I notice this marvelous looking young woman on the other side of the checker. She has luxuriant black hair, down to her waist and curly. Her skin is flawless and her make-up perfect. Most of all, her face is compelling–intelligent and lovely. I step around in front of her (I’m maskless, by the way). “Thank you,” I say, “For not wearing your mask.” She looks wary, like she’s waiting for the “punch” line. I smile. “For showing your entire beautiful face.”
She relaxes visibly. “Thank you for not yelling at me.”
Ladies and Gentlemen, if you think that dog-training mask will save you, if it makes you feel (SO FALSELY) safe, then by all means wear it. But remember, if it’s really that almighty and powerful, you don’t need to worry about my not wearing one. Just be glad of my certain and emminent demise.
And just one more thing while we’re at it. Stop with the child abuse of making your kids wear masks. JUST SAY NO!
Dr. Lee Merritt’s Impressive and Astouding Findings
Shall We Dance and Dream Again?
In spite of my best efforts, even with all my exhortations to those around me to choose joy, it occurs to me that I am thinking “under seige” thoughts. When I mentioned to others the idea that we might bless our own and each others’ hearts by talking dreams, by deliberately acting and speaking as though we have God’s promised “hope and future”, it was “whoosh” — right over their heads.
“Yeah, and anyway, let’s forget that nonsense and talk about some other nonsense.”
Sometimes you gotta go it alone, with a revelation that’s just between you and Jesus. Sometimes the Holy Spirit wants to hang out with you and develop this line of thinking: Maybe you should change your thinking. Maybe enough is enough.
I’ve heard authors say that once they send out a manuscript, it’s wise to have another one underway. This way, if the manuscript is rejected, they’re not caught dead in the water, all their hopes and dreams focused on that one thing.
In a nutshell, I’m saying that we should be unmoved by what we see and hear. We should only listen to the Holy Spirit, take no note of “evil reports”, be aware that God’s not kidding when he says, “Bad company (news) corrupts” and finally, to “be not overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
I say let’s begin overcoming evil by doing the exact opposite of what our feelings, fears, and the enemy of our souls would have us do. Instead of doing dread and doldrums, let’s dance and dream.
Get Thee Behind Me, Fear of COVID!
Even as I am grieved and aggrieved at masks, social distancing, and other evidences of people tormented by Fear and lies, I am glad of the changes I see. In me.
After the third “encounter” with extremely aggressive and just plain demented-by-fear folks because my mask was below my nose, I am at a good place with it all. I am in a place of prayer, day in and day out, and all the day long. And even as I want “the end of masks forever and ever amen” all of it is growing me, hooray.
I wasn’t always so sanguine, and handled each mask attack differently. To the first “helper” I said, “I don’t need a mask, I have Jesus,” which caused him to physically jerk and jump, and then scuttle away as quickly as possible.
I wasn’t feeling so smug after subsequent incidents. “You’re not that special,” I said to three store clerks actually shouting at my husband and me across the store (about 30 feet away). We turned and left the store, where they no doubt lamented the idiocy of stupid old goats like us who are too dumb to understand the importance to us all of wearing the masks.
Then there was the wild girl who looked like she was about to lose it, so I pulled up the mask and said just loudly enough for her to hear as I left the store, “Shove it up your ass.” Yay, Bev. Way to go! That really was brilliant and beautiful.
And then. She was a young mom who just really, really, really got under my skin. If you’re a bit “mature” as am I, you know the one. She thinks her child is the first and only and she’s God’s golden model of excellence in motherhood. Along with that pride, of course, is the knowledge that anyone past fifty is passe, and must be helped and educated and somehow tolerated. Just the memory of that encounter. Well, I didn’t say much to her, as she made it clear that listening wasn’t her strong suit. But I lost my joy over it to the extent that I had to come up with a strategy.
Obviously, I reasoned, these helpful little darlings aren’t going anywhere (there have been two more happy times to date). I had gone through the usual prayers of repentance, forgiveness, etc. but I couldn’t shake the aggravation of Super Mom. Finally, I did two things: I made a plan for exactly how to handle it next time; and I gave her a name and went to work in prayer.
I named her Amanda and her baby Chloe, and prayed for her husband, home, finances, everything that came to mind. I prayed her free from fear. And I determined that the next encounter will go something like this:
Helper: I’ll need you to pull your mask up all the way and keep your nose covered.
Bev: Oh, certainly, even though I can’t breathe and it’s very unhealthy, and the masks don’t work. I’ll do that for you, and listen to your views about this, and very respectfully, and in return I’d like to ask you to listen to my views about the real reason, even deeper than those I mentioned, about the mask.
Helper: OK (not looking very ecstatic so far).
Bev: The real reason is that Jesus is my healer. I haven’t been to the doctor since my last child was born twenty years ago, and (if there’s a child) I can tell you how to raise that child free from the torment of Fear.
Helper: Uh . . . (she very well may leave with a pithy comment about my selfishness and ignorance, punctuated with sighs and eye-rollings, in which case we hope Bev’s best laid plans don’t fly out the window as she blows it yet again). But let’s just suppose things remain civil.
Bev: Here’s my card. I’d love to talk to you about this. And pray with you. You don’t have to live in fear. Call me. Really.
Helper takes card and I ask if she’s brave enough to shake my hand. I ask her for her name and tell her I’m going to pray for her, assuring her that I’ve been where she is, only probably much more fearful, as I was a world-class worrier once upon a time.
I hate Fear, and I hate the author of it. The Great Deceiver, Father of Lies.
If you’re under the dominion of Fear nothing I can say will change your mind. The mask, may I suggest, is your God. But could I implore and beg you to look at the words of God, the deeds of Jesus. “For God has not given us a Spirit of Fear, but of power and love and a sound mind.” You can’t have it both ways, if you bow to fear, you will be powerless, unloving, and not of sound mind.
Let us all pray for victory over Fear. Let us pray for each other and let us be changed. Amen.
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