The Shadow of Your Wings

  One of my favorite stories is The Velveteen Rabbit by Marjery Williams. I’ve read it to my children and their children. The past few years I’ve encouraged friends to read it, to themselves.

It is a story about becoming “real.”

Loving, and being loved, can leave you torn and tattered, it is true. Sometimes people, even those who love you, can rub your fur the wrong way, or tug on your ear until you think it may fall off. They don’t always consider how you feel when you’ve been left all alone in the yard, or stuck on a shelf in some out of the way corner. They may think of you occasionally, fondly, and might even look for you, only to be disappointed to find that you’ve changed over time … you’re not the soft, cuddly little bunny they remembered. You’re placed gently back upon the shelf, or tossed casually into a pile of other worn out toys, forgotten until some sweet memory stirs the heart.

“Does it hurt?” “Sometimes …”

How we respond to life, and love, reflects our Real-ity, which can only be found in Christ. As we begin to realize that there is One who REALLY loves us, ragged fur, torn ear and all, we find ourselves becoming Real - in the Spirit of love, and forgiveness, and peace - until a day comes when we can honestly say that we “don’t mind being hurt.” Then “you shall be Real to everyone.”

May the love of the Lord become so very real to us that it is “Real” through us.

"I want to love you without clutching,
Appreciate you without judging
Join you without invading,
Invite you without demanding,
Leave you without guilt,
Criticize you without blaming,
And help you without insulting.
If I can have the same from you,
Then we can truly meet each other."

I have not, in these months of writing here, ever declared myself denominationally or doctrinally. It has been my thought that by staying somewhat anonymous I could maintain a neutrality in both the writing and my responses to others. But … there are things being said and done within the Church body, and on this blogsite that are challenging me to speak up, and out.

Denominationally I jokingly refer to myself as ChariBapticostal, or Pentistmatic, if you prefer. After many years in Charismatic, (pre)emergent, and AG churches I found myself in desperate need of a quiet place to “rest.” In His mercy and wisdom the Lord lead us beside still waters and we settled into a lovely, foundationally sound Baptist congregation, where we’ve been for the past 3 years.

My faith has survived the “gold tooth” phenomenon, "feathers," "gold dust," and oily palms. Been prayed “over” in unknown tongues and pray in a tongue known only to God. I’ve been “slain in the spirit” by the Lord, knocked down by men (and women) “in the name of Jesus,” and pinned to the ground by a demonic spirit disguising itself as “the power of God.”

I’ve prayed as the Spirit urged and seen people healed immediately of lesser maladies, giving God all the glory as they walked away without pain. I’ve prayed with all my being to see others healed of disease or injury only to attend their funerals months or weeks later.

I’ve been given words of knowledge - surprised to “know” such intimate details about some mere acquaintance, have been told that I have “the gift of wisdom,” and have, on occasion, spoken prophetically, as the Spirit led.

So, why divulge this information now? To say, in part, “been there,” “done that,” and to assure you that there is “nothing new under the sun.” But more because we, the Church, the beloved Bride of Christ, are encountering an influx of satanic influence and infiltration such as I have not ever witnessed in 30 plus years of being a part of this beautiful Body of Christ. It is as subtle as it is outrageous. From emergent philosophy to new age revivals, false teachings, and teachers, abound.

There is a desperate cry being heard throughout Christendom of watchmen on the wall trying to give warning. But they are dismissed as “critical” or “faithless” or seen as “Jezebels” trying to undermine a “mighty work of God.” Admittedly, some are simply possessed of a critical nature, if not spirit. Many are so bound by denominational traditions that they are unable, or unwilling, to trust God beyond the doctrine they have been taught all their lives. Others are struggling to find their own way to the still waters, weary of drinking from a “river” that has been polluted with play and muddied by unscriptural, unheavenly outpourings. And a few, caught up in the current, are honestly, humbly seeking and trusting the Lord. God bless and save them.

For three years I’ve lulled in the calm, quiet of First Baptist Church, MyTown, USA. I’ve regained perspective and balance and, frankly, tried to ignore what was going on in the rest of the church world. I confess that the spiritual gifts that the Lord has entrusted to me have become a bit “flabby” with disuse. I have become that “unprofitable servant,” having buried my Master’s talents in the ground. But recently I’ve become aware of a stirring in the Spirit, in my spirit. A call to rise up, to enter in. It is, I believe, a call to sound - once again - the trumpet of warning.

We, as a Body, and a society, have become so fearful of being “judgmental” that we’ve forsaken good, wise counsel. Those who perceive and speak a need for caution (“test the spirits”) are bullied into believing that they are being judgmental, or worse - denying the power and work of God.

Beloved Church, it is time to WAKE UP! To stir up the gifts of discernment and exhortation. To KNOW THE WORD of God - which is our Truth and the plumb line by which we measure - and yes, judge what is true and what is false. There is some seriously disturbing stuff going on in the church world, and we can no longer hide from it, pretending it doesn’t exist.

Please remember - our duty to God, the Church, and one another is not to condemn, but to correct, teach, exhort, edify, love and lead others to the One who IS the Truth and the Way. Judge righteously, but do not be judgmental. This is a call to prayer as well as action, to speak the truth in Christ, to “test all things, [and] hold fast what is good.” (1 Thes 5:21) The preceding verse tells us to “not despise prophecies.” “Prophecy” being the prime motivator in this strange time. The study Bible on the desk before me includes a definition of this word -

propheteia: From pro, “forth,” and phemi, “to speak.” The primary use of the word is not predictive, in the sense of foretelling, but interpretive, declaring, or forth-telling, the will and counsel of God.”

Indeed - let us hold fast what is good.

Yours in Christ Jesus,

paula

God is on His throne!

The word “abdicate” struck me - hard. Not a term I would ordinarily use, and why in this praying? I considered the meaning of the word - thoughts of Edward “abdicating” his throne for love of Wallis; to abdicate: to renounce or relinquish a throne, right, power, claim, or the like.

While I pondered in prayer I saw another throne - my own, centered squarely within the tiny realm of my heart, and I realized that what I needed to do MOST was abdicate - relinquish the throne of my rights, will, power, and desires to God. I needed to step off the throne of self and welcome Him to sit and reign. It was with a sweet sense of submission, willingly yielding, giving over the throne and kingdom that is my life that I “watched” the LORD quietly take His rightful place in my heart. As He did so I had such an incredible sense of freedom, for the burdens of governing were no longer on my shoulders, but His. Moreover, as I stepped aside it seemed that the domain of what I had presided over began to increase, to open up - as if I had been lord over or within the four walls of the throne room only and now I could see beyond - to the fields, the vineyards, the forests … My mind (or the Spirit) painted a Provençal landscape before me and my soul rejoiced with the knowledge of the liberty I had to wander these gardens, to gather there.

When I shared these thoughts with a friend she said, “Well, of course God is on the throne. I have always seen Him there and fall to my face before Him.” Well, of course. So have I. But the throne I’ve seen Him on is in Heaven - not my own heart! When I “enter His gates” it is always in view of Heavenly courts. I’d never given it any other thought. But now …

Now I see Him on tHis throne, high and lifted up, Sovereign over ALL. It’s been as if I’ve tried to make “my little world” fit into His glorious dominion, still holding to the boundaries and territories that are “mine.” Today I think in abdicating “my” throne I am seeing His kingdom envelop and absorb what I have called my own. No longer “mine” - it is all His. And He, in His generosity and grace, allows me to romp and roam the entire realm. Unlike earthly kings, who would no doubt behead me, or bind me with chains in the dungeon, or at the very least enslave me, this Great King lets me stay beside Him - as a friend. He is so much more merciful than I have ever been upon that throne.

In some ways this is so obvious! So exactly what I’ve heard preached - preached myself! Why have I never understood it? Because, most simply, I have been unwilling to abdicate “my” throne, “my” rule over the land of self.

Oh, there are still responsibilities. I am to continue to work the gardens, to gather the fruit and blossom, to give baskets and bouquets away - but from HIS gardens rather than my own. I can give in His name and to His glory - not mine. I’m going to LOVE doing the work for this Master King!!!

You never know what will wander into the farmyard.

This season has brought out the worst and the best of the wildlife ’round here. I’ve watched the swallowtail butterflies flutter by, pausing to sip at mimosa blossoms, then float along on the breeze. Two beautiful male painted buntings come each afternoon to the bird feeder, along with the blue jays, cardinals, doves, and the squirrel. I know folks who live in town consider squirrels a nuisance, but we rarely see them out here in nowhere land and I am tickled when one finds its way to my home. I’ve surprised a doe sneaking up to the flower beds as I stepped out onto the front porch one evening , scared the dickens out of a raccoon who discovered a tasty bowl of cat food on that same porch late one night, and almost knocked Miss Piggy plum off the steps as I rushed out the door the other day. This little piggy started showing up at our house about a year ago. Just wandered onto our place from goodness knows where, plump little pinklet only a few months old. I made the mistake of greeting her and now she thinks I am her friend. But now she is a not so cute 150 lb. pork roast on the hoof. I’m not particularly fond of pork, and am finding myself even less so of pigs. Our county has been troubled for the last few years with feral hogs and it seems they may be moving into our neck of the woods. I saw one pork belly up on the roadside a few days ago. Good a way as any to serve ham, in my opinion.

Then there are the foxes. We thought the raccoon was getting into the chicken coop - lost 5 of my feathered beauties in a few weeks. Turned out to be a pair of foxes. Husband spied them slouching away from the henhouse at the break of day. Fortunately the extra wire he’d put around the coop kept them out. The neighbors have a passel of obnoxious guinea fowl just running loose - maybe they’ll find them and leave my “pets” alone.

We’ve also seen a copperhead and a rattlesnake … but that’s another story.

And my grandchildren think it's “booorrrrring” out here. Ha!

As I read and hear about some of the things that are happening in the church these days it seems to me that it is a lot like this place. There are a few foxes loose in the henhouse, a couple of squirrelly characters, and some that are just plain nasty to be around, but there are also the beautiful, the gentle, the peaceful pollinators who share the sweet nectar of their faith, lighting on open buds to bring fruitfulness.

You just never know what will wander into the churchyard.