Recent Posts


© True Life With God, 2016 | Website by Contemplate Design
5th of February

Dis-Abled


Our daughter has been in her new apartment for a month now.  The transition has not been easy on her—or us.  In fact, she has been mad as a hornet, trying everything she can think of to get us to give up—to give in—to let her move back home.

She has tried her passive-aggressive tactics.

She has tried isolation.

She has tried down-right nastiness.

In other words . . .

Our angel daughter is just like you and me when we’re put in positions we don’t like.  We’re not so angelic.

Our sin nature comes screaming out, running for its life, not caring who or what it steamrolls over.  Thankfully, God has us in His able hands, promising not to let go till the work He has begun in us is finished.  (Philippians 1:6)

Wiggle and wrestle as we may, He holds—even when our hearts are frozen and buried deep.

Through cold and covered landscapes we trod, waiting for some new—some sign of spring.

And then . . .

A sign of hope.

crocus+yellow1

Color at last—green leaves thrusting—yellow and orange and purple stripes blossoming.

crocus+purple

He calls forth the hidden—the buried—the frozen—and upward we stretch.

Out of God’s stronghold comes splendor. 

The crusted cracks open and seed blows wherever He wills, sprouting new life wherever it lands.

DSC_0679

Because God created us for holiness.  But the pursuit of holiness requires friction—the raw rub of daily life.

DSC_0677

And the process hurts.

We resist.

We hate pain.

But we can spread something other than nastiness in these times, with the help of the Spirit.  We can grow life—true life that will propagate MORE life—if only we let Him open us to receive His breath!

DSC_0675

I find comfort in knowing we can rest from trying to clean up our own acts, our minds, our bodies, our souls.  HE is the One preparing His bride, not WE.  No stain shall remain on our ceremonial gown! Carefully, He cleans.  And only MY hand—MY will—creates pain as I try and pull away saying . . .

“No!  Surely not, Jesus!  YOU should NOT clean ME, for I am too filthy for YOUR holy hands!”

But He insists.

“Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”  (John 13:5)

Oh, what a choice!  To try and wash myself clean for approval—OR—to realize I am unable—to open and allow the holy breath of God to blow away—all—my—chaff.

I choose.

Like Peter, I choose.

“Then, Lord, not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!”  (John 13: 9)

We need more than our external parts washed, beautiful though they may be in the minds of men.  Our minds and hearts and souls need HOLY cleansing.

So here on the farm, in our little slice of God’s creation, we had a HOLY BATH this week . . .

God is answering Anna’s prayers—to know her purpose, and my prayers—that she would find peace and joy in her new, assisted living situation.  Surely, she has stoked my ire recently and I confess, I’ve not acted godly at times.  But I have also tried to put myself in her place, asking for grace to give grace.

She’s a precious seed, this daughter of ours.  A wisp of a woman, 60 inches tall and 93 pounds.  Everyone admires her beauty.  But physical beauty can fool and distract.  She does not look like a person with disabilities.  She does not look like a person who will needs assisted living.  She uses big words that most connect with high intellect.

But words can deceive.  (Ephesians 5:6)

And beauty is fleeting.  (Proverbs 31:30)

How often have I looked upon others with obvious disabilities and separated into different camps with a fence:  the disabled and the non-disabled?

DSC_0674

How often have I thanked God that I’m not like “them”?

And yet .  . .

The truth is . . .

I AM disabled.

And so are you.

We ALL are dis-abled.  (Romans 3:23)

We ALL are in need of God to heal.  We need His grace to live—to grow—to become  all He created us to be.

And how we try to deny our disabilities, just like Anna!  Just like ME!

How we try to look and act and feel NORMAL and INDEPENDENT—just like everybody else who thinks we have no need—of any help—from anyone.

But we ARE dis-abled!  All of us—by ourselves.

Only Jesus Christ takes the DIS out of ABLED!  Only Jesus makes us FULLY ABLED!  (Philippians 4:13)

And as we yield to Him—the Way—the Truth—the Life—we become truly beautiful from the inside out.

But yielding?

It’s not easy.

It’s hard.

It’s a pride killer.

But when we let our pride die, we discover our purpose.

Then, we can delight in the unique gifts God gives each and every one of us.  Then, we can stop COMPARING—stop COVETING—stop WISHING  we had others’ gifts—others’ God-anointing!  We discover our OWN!

Grab my hand and come with me!  Let’s take a peek at a two-minute slice of heaven on earth and see how this works . . .

Anna forgot about being nasty last week when God suddenly breathed through her . . .

Each Friday night, all the women in the supported apartments—all four of them—they go out to dinner with the residential caregiver.  After Anna first moved in, she didn’t want to go.  After all, she told me, they have greater disabilities, which is true, and it’s visually evident that these women have challenges, unlike Anna who has been able to hide her challenges behind a beautiful face and good vocabulary for the past 16 years.

But my husband and I insisted that Anna participate in the Friday night outings.

Suffice it to say, we had MUCH family friction due to our decision!  Me, being the one who suffers the most from angst, wondering if I’m hearing and following God all the time, I prayed that God would help Anna find joy in serving during these Friday night outings.

So here’s how intimate—how awesome—our God is . . .

One of the women, Sara, has a hard time lifting her legs.  She’s also emotionally fragile, becoming agitated easily.  Last Friday night, on their way to dinner, Anna saw that Sara was having difficulty getting into the van.

Anna tried to help.

Sara became upset.

Laura, the resident manager, thanked Anna for trying to help Sara, but asked Anna get into the van.

Anna sat down beside Sara.

Sara was repeating herself, over and over, in a high-strung pitch, obviously agitated.

And then . . .

Our Holy God amazed!

Anna gently placed her hand on Sara’s arm and said in her naturally soft-spoken words . . .

“It’s OK, Sara.  You’re OK.” 

As if a plug had been pulled, Sara’s agitation drained from her soul with a Holy Spirit whoosh and her countenance changed instantly.

Laura noticed the remarkable, calming effect of Anna’s gentle touch and her soft, reassuring voice.

A God-gift!  In the midst our family-ugly, God moved and wooed and HEALED!

Anna was oblivious.  Oh, that we should all be so oblivious!

Later, Laura told Anna what she had witnessed in that holy moment.  Anna was completely unaware of the gift she had given—that had breathed through her—that she had made a holy difference in someone’s life with just a gentle touch and a couple soft words—“You’re OK.”

How crazy miraculous is that?

I’m done.

I need write no more.

You get it, don’t you?

DSC_0682

 Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me….
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.

T’was Grace that taught…
my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear…
the hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares…
we have already come.
T’was Grace that brought us safe thus far…
and Grace will lead us home.

The Lord has promised good to me…
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be…
as long as life endures.

When we’ve been here ten thousand years…
bright shining as the sun.
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise…
then when we’ve first begun.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me….
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.

 

 

Welcome to True Life With God!

Come stroll the trails with me on our 44 acre Midwest horse farm where I seek God in the ordinary and always find Him--the Extraordinary--wooing, teaching, wowing me with Himself. Thanks for visiting. I hope you will be blessed!

Let’s Connect

Your Name (required)

Your Email (required)

Your Message