Sacrifice Is a Good Thing

My pastor has called our church to a week of prayer and fasting.

I have tried to fast on many occasions, but rarely ever made it past dinner time. I can honestly say I have experienced one fast of my own decision. It was a 72 hour fast (3 days for those of you not quick on the math.)

It was in the midst of the hardest part of the battle during the complications of Ethan's adoption. The Lord woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to fast for 3 days. So I did. And I have to be honest, it was the only time I ever fasted successfully, and I know it was because the Lord sustained me to do it.

This time I haven't felt like the Lord spoke it directly to me, but I I know if the Lord has placed it on my pastor's heart, then I should respond in obedience to his leadership.

There are lots of ways to fast. Our church has given us some direction and guidelines, and have given us options. There is a total fast where you only drink water. There is a modified fast which allows for juices, there is the fasting of a meal, fasting particular foods, or you can fast things too, like media, or a hobby. The point is to give something up in order to make a more concerted effort to seek God and focus on Him.

One thing I do believe, is whatever we fast, it is supposed to feel like a sacrifice. I was having a conversation with someone and they told me, "Well, I might fast a meal, but I won't fast Facebook." I told him, "So what you're really saying is, 'I'll fast something easy, but I won't fast anything I'll really miss.'"

I was teasing him, mostly, but there is a thread of truth to it for us all. My pastor spoke Sunday morning and said he knew some people would be willing to fast "between breakfast and lunch," but he hoped we were willing to give a little more.

I want to be willing to give a little more, but as the Bible says, "the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." And so tonight I ponder the fast over the next four days, and my spirit is very willing, but I know tomorrow when I rise, the flesh will be very weak.

It's interesting, when I look up the word sacrifice in the dictionary, the first two definitions refer to offerings to God. When I think of the word "sacrifice" my first inclination is about what I might be losing, rather than what I might be giving. It gives it a different perspective when I think of it as something to give, rather than something I am missing out on.

Looking up the word fast, it talks about spiritual discipline. If the flesh is weak, then what could be better to correct that, or at least improve that, than to bring it into subjection to the spiritual discipline of fasting. I know this, if the fast is separated from the prayer, there is almost no chance it will be successful. I think if I'm going to give up feeding my body for any length of time, whether it be a day or all four, I had better be feeding my spirit. The best way to do that is obviously through prayer and reading the Word.

I didn't prepare very well for these next few days. Today was a day of laziness and gluttony for me, so I have probably made the mountain more steep to overcome.

My pastor said he believes this time of fasting and prayer that the Lord has led him to call may be a time to bring breakthrough. Breakthrough is something that really appeals to me in the midst of he season I am in. So I am looking forward to seeking God these next few days.

As a family Neal and I have decided to limit our media intake to an hour a day. We won't be watching TV or playing on the internet except for an hour in the evening. I have to be on the computer at work, but whereas I usually keep Facebook up in the background, this week I won't. And I won't check it on my phone - boy that one's going to be a serious challenge! But it's not about what I am giving up! It's about giving that (large amount of) time to focus on the Lord and the Lord's business instead. Sacrifice is a good thing.

For me personally, I also hope to maintain a water and juice fast. I don't know if I can manage the whole four days, but I plan to try. I really long to hear from the Lord. I will take each day one at a time, and I will do it remembering that it's about giving to the Lord, not just denying myself.

I'm pretty sure that's what the Lord was thinking anyway, when He hung up on the cross and sacrificed His life. I think He was far more focused on what He was giving than what He was losing. And I am, or at least should be, thankful for that every day.

When I think about that, the thought of skipping a few meals doesn't seem like such a big loss. It kind of seems like the least I could do, all things considered.

So tomorrow it begins, a concentrated effort to give a small pittance to the One who has given me everything.

I Wait, With Hope

I am struggling today. I haven't blogged here in almost 2 weeks because I don't really know what to say.

It's such an interesting season right now. I can sense and anticipate God working. I feel a little like a woman at the end of her pregnancy, like I know what I have been waiting for is coming soon, but I don't know exactly when. Unfortunately, when you are "pregnant" in the spiritual sense, there is no guaranteed time limit on the gestation like there is with a physical pregnancy, so this sense could theoretically go on for a really long time. And when you find yourself in a "holding pattern" for too long, you start to wonder if you'll ever "take off."

Part of what has been increasing the sense of anticipation that something is going on is the "labor pains" I have been feeling. In a ten day period, I found out people in leadership over me were speaking badly about me behind my back, and the deeper meaning behind it was a bruise to my heart and an encouragement to me because it confirmed I had heard the voice of the Lord. I also had a major crisis arise in my extended family and I had a major conflict arise in another area of my extended family. Then after really hurtful awful things were said, the person acted as though the conversation never even happened? Basically, it left me sort of reeling. Truth be told, I am still feeling totally thrown off by it.

Then a simple statement made on Facebook opened a can of worms that I didn't even know existed. I found myself on the receiving end of a real tongue lashing, and "officially" lost a friend I think I had lost a lot longer ago, and a lot more severely than I ever even realized. It actually had me really sad, but then I saw some things that made me realize, I don't think the situation was even about me, but I was the easy target. But it's still sad when a friendship dies.

Amidst these big issues there were evil dreams and anxiety attacks. Up until a few days ago I woke up daily with heavy pressure of anxiety in my chest. I've also been having mid-day anxiety attacks too, those are more rare for me, but up until a few days ago, they were getting really common.

I don't like to give the devil credit for every challenge I face, but when they come so hard and so incessant, you kind of have to wonder if there's more behind it than happenstance.

A few weeks ago I went to a gathering of believers to hear a man preach, he is known for moving in the prophetic. I went to listen with extremely skeptical ears. It's my nature to question everything, but especially when someone puts themselves in a position to speak on behalf of God.

The prophetic is not foreign to my church. There is one man in particular who moves both in the prophetic and in the gift of healing. I have gone before him many times with hope and expectation to "hear from the Lord" from him, and the Lord has never chosen to speak into my life through him. The most I have ever gotten was a touch to my forehead and a "God bless you."

So when I was invited to this event (by friends I trust implicitly) I didn't go with a great deal of expectation. My friend really was insistent that I was supposed to go, but I almost didn't because Neal and I had had a huge blow up just a couple days before (which is extremely rare for us.) But at the last minute things lined up and I was able to go, but I did not go expecting to hear anything specifically for myself. It's just never been something that happens for me. And I had chosen to be ok with that.

Interestingly I had expressed a need and desire a couple weeks before all this to want to "go somewhere I didn't know anyone and have them come up to me and speak a word from the Lord." It was specific to wanting it to be someone who didn't know me because I didn't want anyone's personal opinion to color it. I have, in my own church, had "prophecy" misused. I have had people try to manipulate me with it, and wound me with it. Even when it has been an encouraging prophecy, it has felt tinged with the good intentions of someone who cared for me to make me feel better, rather than ringing true to the "word of the Lord." It's not to say I have never received a true prophecy in my own church, but more to say I found myself in a place where I need confidence it was not corrupted by the person speaking it.

When I went that night to listen to the sermon, I was waiting and watching for mistakes, words that didn't line up with the Word of God. Like I said, it's my nature to be skeptical anyway, but I was on even higher alert that night. At one point the speaker misspoke something, he used the name of one "father of the faith" in the place of another. My ears peaked and I sat up, listening critically, then he said, "I'm sorry, I meant Jacob, not Abraham, I misspoke." Truth be told, I felt like even that was of the Lord, it made me realize how careful and precise this man meant to be to go back and correct himself. I felt like the Lord was confirming for me, I could take in what he was saying. His lesson on Joseph was amazing, I really enjoyed it. Not in the sense of tickling my ears, because it was a hard and challenging word of truth, but I enjoyed it because I knew it was real, something to hold to.

After he spoke his lesson, the speaker shared about his gift of the prophetic, and he began to pray and look over the room. He gave a word to a woman a few rows in front of me and I watched her emotional response. It was obvious it spoke to her spirit by the way she responded. Then he moved over to the other side of the room and spoke over another woman, and she too was moved by the words he said.

I was seated toward the back with only one other person near me. He had been glancing our direction throughout the night. Finally he turned toward us and began to walk our way. "You in the brown," he said, "what's your name?" He was speaking to me.

Then he began to speak over me. This man I never met before spoke words of hope to me, words of encouragement. I tried hard to focus and take it all in, he had so much to say. For near;y 6 minutes he continued to speak. It was so interesting to me because he spoke in ways that were specific to "my language," he used word pictures that were relevant to my life, he used phrases that I use. It was as though he was speaking my language. My friend who brought me was a couple rows behind me, I kept hearing her say, "Yes" and "Amen."

It was so much to take in. I am so thankful that my friend's husband was there and recorded it for me. As I tried to process it on the way home that night, I couldn't remember enough of the words he said. Things stood out, and my friend tried to help me, but the recording of it was a treasure. It was almost a week before I got it so I could hear it again, but when I listened the 2nd time, it registered with me even more.

It's been a battle almost non-stop ever since. It makes me think, even more, the word was of the Lord.

I have had people I trust listen to it. Each one of them has agreed, it was anointed and of God. Each one of them is believing with me for the fulfillment of it. But now we wait. And like I said, unlike a physical pregnancy, there is no guaranteed end to to the season, though he prophesied it was coming.

Waiting is hard, and time in the kingdom of God is evasive.

But there were promises in that word that was spoken over me, and I know well that God is a faithful keeper of promises, that's been the biggest theme he has proven true in my life.

God ALWAYS keeps His promises.

On that I can be sure.

On that I can rely.

Waiting isn't easy, but it is always worth it with the Lord.

So, I hold to it, and I wait, with hope. And that's not the worst place to be.

God deserves my hope.

God deserves my trust.

So I wait.

And I hope.

And I trust.

Labor is ongoing, but the birth will come. And when I grab hold of what God has for me, it will have been worth every moment I waited... and then some.

All Things

When we look at nothing but the ashes of pain and destruction before us, it is inconceivable that God could possibly bring forth any beauty from it. It is overwhelming to try to imagine how he might rebuild what has been completely devestated and destroyed.

But it is when we face the reality of what is before that we must close our eyes to the circumstances and open our heart fully to the truth of Who God is.

It is not what we see that we put our trust in, but rather in Who we know. We must trust in the character of God. We must remember all that He has done before when we are stuck in the moment of deep suffering. As Job cried out, "Though He slay me, I will hope in Him." God deserves our trust. He deserves our confidence, and even in our weakest and most painful moments, we must hold to Him with whatever strength we can muster, because Who He is, His character is trustworthy.

We belong to Him, He loved us and accepted us when we came to Him at our worst, mired deep in sin and rebellion. He took us in, made us His very own, and gave us hope and new life. How much more will He care for us, proved us and leave us, now that we are His followers, His children.

Know that the LORD is God.
It is he who made us, and we are his;
we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.
Psalm 100:3

As the shepherd watches over his flock without wavering, all the more, our Good Shepherd does not slumber or sleep, He continually works for our good, that we would know Him more and we would receive all that He has for us. He is a good God, and that is why we must trust Him in all things.

It may be at times that our prayer is "Even this, Lord, I will trust You in," but we must pray the prayer. Sometimes it may start as shallow words, but we must continue the sacrificial offering of it until our weary flesh and our wounded hearts catch up with it. He is worthy. He can be trusted.



“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon Me,
Because the LORD has anointed Me
To preach good tidings to the poor;
He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives,
And the opening of the prison to those who are bound;
To console those who mourn in Zion,
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.”
Isaiah 61:1,3

An Age of Innocence

I went to the movies today with my daughter and another mom and her little girl. We sat in the theater with our popcorn and frozen yogurt waiting for the feature to show when a preview to an upcoming movie came across the screen. I'll let you check it out for yourself.



I've seen the trailer before, and I always watch it with a critical eye, because the fact is, it has the potential to be turned into one of those dime a dozen raunchy teen films that plague movie theaters today. The fact is, as a family our movie outings are becoming fewer and farther between. As I read in a particular movie review today (because I always check reviews before any of us go see a movie) if it's not ok to be spouting off profanities or using the Lord's name as a curse or a swear word, what makes it ok to go watch a movie that does? Truly, that's kind of become my own opinion for a while now.

Anyway, I'm actually off on a rabbit trail. And I will say for the record, I actually have hope this movie isn't going to slip down the slippery slope of inappropriate, a hope supported by the fact that my local Christian station has promoted the movie, even on their Facebook page, so I have hope that this movie will be what it seems to present itself as, a memory of far more innocent days.

So after all that build, here in lies the actual meat of my intended blog. As I sat and watched the preview and turned to my friend and told her how sad I was, because I truly believe, our generation is probably the last to truly have an "age of innocence" to look back upon. My guess from the looks of things is that this movie is in and about my generation, perhaps a little before, in the late 60's to the 70's.

Maybe the children of the 80's will have some semblance of innocence, but not truly the way my generation did. I remember the days of playing outside with the only directive being to be in when the street lights came on. My mom would walk out the door maybe once or twice in a whole day to check on my whereabouts. That's a luxury my children have never known. At 8 and 9 Ethan and Victoria have just entered the era where they are allowed to walk down the street to the neighbor's house alone... well, alone together. And it's not rare for their dad or I to walk down shortly after to make sure they are safe where they belong.

I remember being maybe 9 or 10 years old, and for some reason I was up watching TV really late at night. Maybe I was ill, or we were on vacation, I'm not sure but my parents had a movie on TV and I remember I heard someone use the word "bastard" (sorry) and I remember being in absolute shock at what I had heard on TV. Nowadays you can't get through a commercial much less a TV show or movie without hearing all kinds of profanity. And it shows.

Thursday I had my kids at the beach, and after being down in the water I walked back up to our blankets. As I passed a couple of boys playing paddle ball I heard one of them call the other a bad name. He couldn't have been more than 12. I turned toward him in shock and as I did my friend who'd been hanging under our umbrella said, "yeah, you should hear all the profanity coming out of his mouth." Why should I be surprised? It's on TV, in the movies, on billboards and license plate frames. Somewhere along the line it has become the completely acceptable way to speak and communicate, and our kids are exposed to it constantly. And it should not be so.

I grew up in a house where it was constant, profanity and cursing. It's still prevalent in my parents' home and lives, and for that reason I struggle with it immensely. We had a bad spill courtesy of the cat earlier and I am not proud of the words my daughter was exposed to because of it. The bible says "out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks." And it is my personal opinion that the "abundance of heart" not only applies to what we ourselves put into it, but what we are exposed to. And there was a lot of years of profanity shoveled into my heart, and I worry I may pass that curse on to my own children.

It's not as severe as what I grew up with (but when I have lost my temper the exposure risk increases exponentially,) but somewhere along the line the words "crap(py)" and "fricken" have become acceptable alternatives, and I am beginning to realize, it shouldn't be like that. It's a lesson that really comes full force when I see the word written on Facebook by my 16 year old, or worse, I hear it coming out of the mouth of one of my little ones. It is the slippery slope.

I have already talked to my kids about removing those two words from our casual conversation (not to mention the need I have to clean up my angry words) and we are all going to try to remove those words from our vocabulary. Believe me, in this area, I am the chief of all sinners, and I do not want it to be a "do as I say, not as I do mentality." On the very day I made the suggestion to my kids, they busted me twice the very same afternoon, but it's a good thing, I want my kids to hold me to the higher standard, because as Christians, we ought to be living to it.

I wish it were just an issue of language and words, but it's not, it's so much more. Our kids are assaulted every day with inappropriate images. Don't believe me? Walk through the mall sometime and peruse the front window of a Victoria's Secret store. What is now displayed bigger than life for all to see in a public place used to be something some dads and teenage boys used to hide beneath their mattress or in the top of their closet. Victoria used to at least sort of keep her secret back in the old days, but no more.

Don't even get me started about the sexual and violent content in movies and video games. We are absolutely foolish to think that our kids can spend hours watching, even participating in violent acts via a computer or video game and not be affected for it. It's bad for the soul. I have heard all the different levels people set as acceptable. Shooting is ok as long as there's no gore or no blood. Really? It's ok to kill as long as it's not messy? We have one "shooting game" for our PS2, it's a star wars game, and mild by comparison, but I have watched from a distance as my kids have played it. I have heard their words, talking about killing and shooting each other. I have watched as the tension level rises between them and the conflict that arises out of it. And that's with me putting tight restrictions where they are only allowed to play it on occasion, what about the kids who sit there for hours playing those games? There have been studies done about the physical responses to the playing of those games, blood pressure rising, etc. We are absolutely foolish to think it has no spiritual effect too.

Now I am not anti-war, or anti-gun, please don't misunderstand me, but unless you are training your children to become little soldiers, what is the good purpose of feeding their souls violence and profanity? I long for the days when we told our kids to put sticks down because they might poke out their eyes.

I have done my best to create a bubble for my kids to live in. A place where people are kind, and innocence is valued, but it is constantly a losing battle. I will drive up behind a car only to have my young readers see a licence plate frame that says, "If you think I am a Bi*$%, you should meet my sister." Really? There was a need to display that for all to see? Or I take my kids to a baseball game, "America's pastime" only to have to divert my son's eyes from the woman whose breasts are falling out (and not just the young ones, but the middle aged ones too) and to try to drown out the profanity of the annoyed fan behind me. These things should not be so. But somewhere along the line, it's what the world has become, and it truly, sincerely breaks my heart.

As a nation, we need revival. As a nation, we need a change. Maybe I cannot change the nation, but I can raise the standard here in my own home. I can teach and train my children up to live a better way. I can make the changes I need to make (by the grace of God) to lead by a better example. I can do my best to provide for my kids what their generation, as a whole, will not have, I can do my best to give them, foster in them, and protect for them an age of innocence. Not just my little ones, but even my Jake. I can encourage them to live a better way, to live God's way. They may have to be in the world, but they do not have to be of the world. I may have to be in the world, but I do not have to be of the world. I am not called to be of the world, but I am called to be a person of impact in it, even if it's only within the walls of my own home. It's my responsibility as a parent, and as a Christian.

I hear lots of Christians talk about the world going "to hell in a hand basket" but we as Christians don't have to put the bow on it as it gets sent off. Quite the opposite, as Christians, we ought to be the first to work for change, because apart from Christ, the world is without hope.

Now I rejoice in what was suffered for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church. I have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the word of God in its fullness— the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the saints. To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.
We proclaim him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ. To this end I labor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me.
Colossians 1:24-29

The Gift of Promise

I had an amazing experience a week ago tonight. I asked God for something special. Actually, I hadn't dared to ask, but I had expressed the desire for something specific to others not Him, and like any good parent, my Father made Himself aware of what would mean a lot to me, and He gave it to me just because He loves me.

I asked for it in a wistful way. I never expected to get it, I had asked and hoped before and been told "no," not directly, but by the fact when I asked, it didn't come. This time, I didn't ask, but God gave it to me, and in a very specific way that I wanted it to come. It was amazing. And I'm sorry I am being so coy, but it's something I can't even bring myself to fully share, but suffice it to say, it was just what I was seeking and He gave it to me in the exact way I'd hoped for, and I have been holding to it ever since.

What I will tell you is it wasn't tangible. It wasn't even like a completed answer to prayer. It was more like a promise, and me and God (God and I?) we have this thing about promises. It's like His love language to me. He gives me something to hold onto, and it makes waiting easier, and it builds my faith stronger in the process. God has made many specific promises to me, and His timing hasn't always been what I would have liked, but I have always gotten just as much, if not more, out of the promise as I did out of the answer to the prayer.

The Lord has proven Himself to be the Promise Keeper to me. In fact if you ever drive up behind a mini van with the license plate frame that says "God Always Keeps His Promises - Jacob, Ethan & Victoria" give a little honk and a wave and I promise to wave back.

Two of my favorite scriptures are about God's promises:

God is not a man, that he should lie,
nor a son of man, that he should change his mind.
Does he speak and then not act?
Does he promise and not fulfill?
I have received a command to bless;
he has blessed, and I cannot change it.
Numbers 23:19-20

for God's gifts and his call are irrevocable.
Romans 11:29

The reference for latter scripture is even engraved on the pen we used to sign Ethan's adoption papers. That was the end of a season where God truly showed Himself to be the Promise Keeper. I have had a lot of promises broken to me in my lifetime, but never once by the Lord.

So I am excited, because I feel like I have something to hold onto again. It's not as specific as other promises in the past, but it is something to hold onto, and I am excited for the revelation that lies ahead.

To be honest, I don't really know much of anything about the gift, even though I asked for it, but I do know the Giver. I do know His character and His love. I do know Him. And I do know that the value of the gift comes Who has given it.

I serve such an amazing God. The Shepherd who loves His sheep. My God is not just a promise keeper, He is The Promise Keeper. And I am eagerly looking forward to watching the promise He has given me unfold.

By the way, my last post didn't seem to get much notice, but I really felt like it was an encouragement meant to be shared, so if you have a few more minutes, click here and check it out. Blessings!

Soul Wound Restoration

Have you ever had an emotional wound that cut so deep you didn't think you could recover? A betrayal or affront that hurt so much it rattled you to your core?

I've had a couple of those in my life that come to my mind. The first one was when my parents blackmailed me into my abortion when I was a teenager. I was really damaged by that for a long time. When I had my miscarriage a few years later after I got married it brought that wound bubbling to the surface and devastated me all over again.

But the Lord used my abortion to capture my heart. I learned about God's grace forgiveness and healing when I finally came to Him and repented for the sin, and allowed Him to restore and heal my heart. One of my parents eventually apologized to me for it, the other never did, but part of my healing process was forgiving them without the apology, and even the one who did come to me and express the regret (after Jacob was born) had already been forgiven in my heart long before that day.

If I am honest, I know it was easier to forgive my parents in that situation (click here to read more of my testimony, reading from the bottom back). It was easier because being on the receiving end of God's forgiveness was fresh. No matter what my parents had done to force the issue of abortion back then, the final responsibility was my own. I had to go to the Lord to ask of His forgiveness, and He had given it to me. And for that matter so had Neal, who I had deceived. I think to one who has been forgiven much, it can be easier to forgive.

I also think that sometimes, we forget how much we have been forgiven, and when someone wounds out souls, if we have forgotten, it is harder to forgive.

Back in 2006 my mom-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer. It was a very difficult time for our family. I adored my mother-in-law, and my hubby can fit the description of "mama's boy" like no one else. He was, is and will always be crazy about his mom, and with good reason, she was the best. The pressure of her being sick and being 3,000 miles away caused a great deal of stress for my husband, I don't think he has ever been so scared in his life as when he faced the fear and possibility of losing his mama.

During that same season we were doing a MAJOR overhaul on our home. We were scraping ceilings and completely remodeling our kitchen and both our bathrooms. We re-did all our floors and painted every room in the house. It was super stressful. One day in the midst of it, we were down to a deadline on picking out the specifics for our back bathroom, and for the life of us, Neal and I could not agree on what we wanted to do with it. We were on a budget and were at one of those outlet places trying to pick out a vanity. It was super difficult because the space it had to fit in was a really unique size and I was to the point I was willing to do even the simple so long as we could just be done. Every time I had to make a decision I felt overwhelmed. Neal on the other hand didn't want to settle he wanted to do it right and on a particular day as we stood in the store looking at vanities, to be quite honest, everything just fell apart.

We pretty much blew up at each other right there in the middle of the store. We stormed out and got in his truck heading back home, and Neal drove like a crazy man on the freeway. It was like something had snapped inside of him. He drove fast moving in and out of lanes and all the while was yelling at me and pounding his fist on the dashboard. He really let me have it. It was awful.

When we got home I was angry, but totally reserved, which isn't actually like me. Our two youngest had been in the car with us, and it was the one time I felt like Neal had actually put our kids at risk. when we got to the house I got the kids out of the car and told him to leave. There had been lots of times he'd stomped out earlier in our marriage and I would beg him not to go. This was the first time I ever asked him to leave, and I think it may have scared him a little, because he refused to go. In my mind I remember thinking, "you will survive if he leaves. You won't like it, but you will survive." And up to that day I had always thought I would die if he ever left me. In a way, it was actually a healthy realization.

When we came inside the fight continued, escalated even. I shuffled the kids off out of the room and Neal and I continued. It was as though something snapped inside of him. He said things to me he had never said before, and the one that nearly devastated me, the one that wounded my soul was when he looked me straight in the eye and told me he didn't love me anymore, and not only that he wasn't sure he had ever loved me. I was blown away.

Eventually the storm calmed, things settled. The next morning he gave me a heartfelt apology. We hugged and cried together and he even shared with me that he was overwhelmed with fears about his mom. I hugged him and forgave him, but my heart was still badly wounded. For the next several weeks, every time I got in the shower I would collapse in tears. Our back bathroom still not remodeled I was having to use the bathtub shower in the front bath, and I would go in and take the shower and just kneel down and cry. I would cry until I couldn't cry anymore. I was overwhelmed with fear, that even though he had taken it back, something must have been there to enable him to have said such a thing to me. My heart was broken.

Not only would I spend shower time crying my eyes out, but at night after Neal and the kids went to bed I would sit up alone and read my bible, journal and cry even more.

On one particular night I was so heavy hearted I could hardly breathe. I was crying out to God. I wanted so much to be able to complete my forgiveness of Neal and get past the hurt, but I could not shake the hurt and pain. So I stood up and began to pray. I prayed in the spirit, I cried to God, I worshiped. Walking through my house I wandered into my kitchen.

It was completely torn apart. Neal and I had finished pulling off a huge wall's worth of bad 70's wood paneling a few days before. The wall bore a bad resemblance to Swiss cheese. We had pulled hundreds of nails out of the wall with the paneling, and it was a mess. I stood in the kitchen running my hand across the damaged wall.

As I stood looking at it I felt the Lord speak to my spirit. He said, "it's like an emotional hurt (a soul wound), an apology may remove the nail, but only I can fill the hole."

Only God can fill the hole. It was as though when Neal uttered those words to me, he had hammered a nail into my heart. With his apology and confession he had not meant the words he'd said, he removed the nail, the cause of my pain, but the mark he made remained. There was still a hole in my heart. And no matter how much he wanted to fix that hole, he didn't have the power.

God however is the Healer, not only of our physical sicknesses and injuries, but also the Healer of those wounds to our soul. Only by giving the Lord that hurt, was I able to come to the place where I was not only no longer devastated, but I was actually even able to become well again.

In and of ourselves our ability to forgive, to truly forgive, falls short. If we forget, or are unaware of God's grace, I believe it is even more difficult to forgive others for deep wounds they inflict upon us. But even when we extend that forgiveness, however far we are able, or however far He enables us to do so, the hurts must heal for us to truly move on.

There is no restitution of man sufficient enough to fill the hurt and void those wrongs create in our hearts and souls. The Lord however, not only can, but desires to fill those holes. He is the God who heals. He is the God who restores. He takes from us, the damage of life, and gives us instead life and hope. But we must let Him come.

If you make your way into my kitchen these days, you can't see a single sign of the holes I saw that night. It took time and effort. Every hole had to be filled. It was not fast work, it was meticulous and specific, but once every hole was filled the new paint was placed over it, and no damage was seen, only new beauty. I think that's how God works too. If we let him do His meticulous and specific work in our hearts and lives, He will restore the beauty He always intended for it in the first place.

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
They will rebuild the ancient ruins
and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
that have been devastated for generations.
Aliens will shepherd your flocks;
foreigners will work your fields and vineyards.
And you will be called priests of the LORD,
you will be named ministers of our God.
You will feed on the wealth of nations,
and in their riches you will boast.
Instead of their shame
my people will receive a double portion,
and instead of disgrace
they will rejoice in their inheritance;
and so they will inherit a double portion in their land,
and everlasting joy will be theirs.
Isaiah 61:1-7