Demons

It was just an ad in a magazine at the hair salon where I got my hair done. Glossy paper crinkled and worn from many fingers. Splashy words about the product and its purported benefits. Fine print: “Please drink responsibly”. But there he was! My demon. I could smell the oaky scent of it, could feel the cold wetness of the glass, hear the gentle clink of ice cubes… I even thought I could taste the warm liquid. He was calling me to him. He knows he doesn’t have to beg or plead. All he has to do is sit there and I will come to him. I will welcome him into my body, swirling the oddly cold but still warm amber over my tongue. Oh, Jesus, why is this sin so hard, still? Why do I still struggle with this one? I know that I can’t have just one, because I’ll keep drinking until I’m swaying and sleepy. I know that while I’m sober I can still say, “No”, but why do I have to pray so hard to get the word to drop out of my mouth right now? Why does that old demon know how to manipulate me? He reminds me of every rationalization I’ve ever used! It’s only a drink. I’m going to bed anyway, it’ll help me sleep. No one’s home so no one will even know! You can stop at the store on the way home, it’s right on the way! The words swirl around in my brain like a swizzle stick in that coveted glass! No! Not tonight! Jesus, help me, I beg you! This is a hard one! But tonight, the answer is NO! Tonight I will drink living water from the well of life. Tonight, Jesus, I need you to carry me right past that demon. And some day, maybe you’ll cast him right back where he came from, but tonight he’s there taunting and laughing. TV commercials, magazine ads -- just teasing. And so again, tonight, I will hide myself in the cleft of the Rock of Ages and put my hands over my eyes and curl up in a ball and wait until the demon goes away. I will read God’s word and fill my mind with His images until sleep overtakes me and the dawn comes and the day is fresh and new. And no one will know about that nasty little imp! But he’s still there, waiting… He knows that we’ll meet again another night. . . Maybe next time I won’t win. Maybe next time . . . Oh God! I need You so much! Save me from this devil! Quiet now… I will wait on You, Holy One. I will listen for You in the dark. I will sleep.

Wind

The wind is blowing -- HARD! I work in a highrise building and I feel it swaying. Little fingers of dizziness tickle my stomach. A wind chime I hung up in my office sways back and forth from the suspended ceiling. I try not to look at it. I feel like my nerves are rubbed raw and I am jumpy and anxious. I think it's the whistling and howling that has not stopped for hours. A coworker approaches my office door and I see caution on her face. Am I that scary? Have I been brusque? Nasty? I smile at her and she visibly relaxes. We conclude our business with a casual conversation about our kitties and we're good, but it makes me wonder about my personae. I want to be approachable. I want to exude the love of Jesus Christ. But I don't seem to be doing that. It must be the wind, I rationalize. Or it's the unforgiving fluorescent lights that hum incessantly. Or it's the constant jangling of the phone. I pin it on everything but the real problem -- me. So today, Lord, make my heart over. Make it soft and welcoming like an old afghan, wrapped around me on a warm spring morning. I want to be as inviting as Mom's hug and as comforting as a steaming cup of tea. Repair the cracks in my frame that have allowed the wind to creep in and scratch my nerves raw so that I can be strong and safe for all to approach. Give me the protective wings of the hen gathering her chicks to her, and I will crouch down and face the wind, knowing You, Father, are protecting me. Thank you, Father for your care.

Valleys

For reasons that I cannot yet condense into words that mean anything, I find myself again in one of the many valleys of life. I don't want to be here and if I could just climb out, it would be wonderful, but I can't and so I again find myself being supported and dragged out of danger by my loving shepherd, my Lord Jesus. I am so thankful for His hand on me! But here's what's weird and possibly bordering on sinful: I'm embarrassed that I need His help so often! Is it just that I'm created to need Him? Or am I some sort of human aberration that is too needy? Why am I not able to stand without Him for a little while longer before He has to come and rescue me again? It's not that I've sinned this time. No, this time I really am an honest victim of a circumstance outside of my control. But why do these circumstances seem to touch me so often? I am not like Job. My valleys are nowhere near so deep as his. But there just seem to be so many of them! It's hard to do when you're stuck in that valley, but while I am still at the head of this one, I will praise Him for these many valleys and rejoice that He has counted me worthy to suffer and to be disciplined. I will claim the joy He has promised me and maybe tomorrow, I will stand on a mountaintop!

Warriors and Wives

As I have read and enjoyed other blogs, I have been thinking again how perfect God's design for us is! I was in the company of other brothers and sisters in Jesus last night, and one of the brothers was SO on fire for Him! He is a trained disciple, and without speaking a word, you know that he's a long-time, mature Christian. He simply exudes Christ's love and he knows the word of God in a way that I know took years of study. As he was talking about his witness in his workplace, I got thinking that this is really the role God designed for His men. They are the warriors that do battle and man the foxholes. In his warrior role, this gentleman inspired awe and admiration in me and it is these same characteristics that I see in my gentle husband. He would never beat you over the head with Scripture, but he would certainly be a guide through it, if a seeker should cross his path. At the same time, he abhors sin and would most certainly strike at that should it be in his power to do so. I was amazed at the swelling of my heart when I thought of my husband in this role! So where did that leave me? Certainly not stuck in the role of powerless, ineffective coward! No, I think that we, as women, have a very different role in the war we fight in this world. And we do fight! This world is not our home and to live in it, we must literally carve out our place, sometimes in solid rock. Once carved out, though, it is our obligation to stand firm in and on our solid rock, Jesus Christ. No, as women, we are not the warriors. We man the home base. We are the ones that should be comforting and praying with the hurting in our church. We are the ones who should be there to embrace and to uplift the suffering child of God. So many times before my cherished husband was called into the Lord's service, I would sit alone in church with tears streaming uncontrolled. I thank God for his provision of the ministering angels He sent to sit with me and pray with me and offer comfort. They actually seemed to bring the Holy Spirit right into our midst and a peace would envelope me as I pictured myself cradled like a baby in my Savior's lap. Now I am stronger. God has brought me through the valley and I stand hand-in-hand on the mountaintop with my born again husband and I know what my role must now be. I feel compassion for other women in my church in a new and unashamed way that I never did before. They have seen me stripped of all pretense and loved me still, just as Jesus did when He saved me. This is the love that I owe to my sisters and brothers. This is what I am called to do. If I can do nothing more than pray for someone, I now know that there is more power in that than I ever understood before. I also understand that the day will come when I am required to walk again through the Refiner's fire and I praise God that my sisters and brothers will be there to hold my hand and walk beside me!