“Lord, I’m done!”

Ephesians 6:12 says, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” But, O how physical and emotional are the effects of this spiritual battle!  How many times have I run to my mentor, “Mrs. Wisdom,” pouring out my weak and weary heart to her?   

 “You’re on the front lines, Donna,” my mentor would often say.  “You must expect enemy attack when you openly serve the Lord.”  And so I trudged on.  But how much longer can I fight?

 ~ ~ ~

How long, O Lord?  How long?  I’m so tired.  I’m battle-weary.  The enemy is too strong and too crafty.  I’ve got nothing left.  I could handle him when he came at me personally.  I could handle him when he attacked my marriage.  I could handle him when he began to go after my children, but all three? My “pride of life” has taken such a fall that I hardly know him anymore.  My “joy of life” has dimmed and continues to struggle on.  And my “spice of life” is being poured out, searching and seeking everywhere but not for You.  My heart is shattered.  It’s more than I can bear.

 The desire to study your Word is waning.  And how can I go on teaching and writing when I’m so empty and fatigued?  Let me hide on the pew Sunday mornings like most do and forget the rest. Let me get an outside job and use the well-worn “I can’t because I work” excuse – at least for a little while.  I’m done, Lord.  I can’t fight anymore.

 Job?  Yes, Lord, I remember my friend Job – the suffering, righteous man to whom I’ve turned so many times before.  Yes, Father, I will look at him once again…

 ~ ~ ~

 Yes, Father, I see.  Like Job, I have lost financially, lost what few luxuries I had and, in a way, lost my children.  But there is still hope, isn’t there?  As long as there is breath in their lungs and in mine, there is still hope!  I cannot – I will not – let Satan win.  Because also like Job…

 

I know that my Redeemer lives,
   and that in the end he will stand upon my grave.
And after my skin has been destroyed,
   yet in my flesh I will see God;
I myself will see him
   with my own eyes—I, and not another.
   How my heart yearns within me![1]

 

I will see you, God!  I will stand before my Redeemer! My heart years within me…

…yearns to be confident before You and not shrink away.[2]

…yearns to receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom.[3]

…yearns to endure in You that I might reign with You.[4]

…yearns to hear You say, “Well done…Come and share your Master’s happiness!”[5]

Praise You, my Father, the Rock on which I stand and the Arms into which I fall!  Blessed be Your name!  You and You alone are my strength!  So…

 

Do not gloat over me, my enemy!
   Though I have fallen, I will rise.
Though I sit in darkness,
   the LORD will be my light.[6] 

 

(You hear me, Satan?  I’m not giving up – I’m getting up!  And God is with me!)

 


[1] Job 19:25-27

[2] 1 John 2:28

[3] 2 Peter 1:11

[4] 2 Timothy 2:11

[5] Matthew 25:21

[6] Micah 7:8

Deal with it or let it go!

Months ago I saw an old schoolmate in a local restaurant. Beth Green** was a grade ahead of me in our small little high school, where everybody knew everybody — and everybody’s business!  Seeing her again after all these years brought back an unpleasant memory.

I remember being in the 7th grade and you know how 7th and 8th grade girls can be: drama queens, every one of them!  Just after school was out one afternoon, I was walking around the corner of the building, heading to a water fountain outside the school office, when I heard two girls giving Beth “down in the country,” as my mom would say.   

“She said…Then I said…”

“Yeah, but she’s just…”

And so on it went.

As I finished drinking the water and straightened up, the talking stopped and both girls looked at me.  In an pitiful attempt to be funny, I said, “What is this? The I-hate-Beth-Green Club?”  They both cracked up laughing and said, “Yeah!  Wan’na join?”  I just laughed, shook my head, and walked off, in a hurry to catch my bus.

The next afternoon when we got home, my brother let me have it.  He was in Beth’s class and she had told him that I had formed the I-hate-Beth-Green Club.  “I can’t believe you’d do such a thing, Donna.  You know better!  Beth may not like you too much but this is certainly no way to treat her — and it’s surely no way to get her to like you!”

I couldn’t believe my ears!  Apparently one (or both) of the two girls who were actually gossiping about her told her that I was the culprit!  I didn’t recall anyone else being within earshot. I told my brother how the whole thing really went down.   “I’ll straighten it out with Beth tomorrow,” I sighed.

“Wait a minute,” my brother said.  “If you tell her that the other two were actually the ones talking about her, then they’ll just deny it.  And who do you think Beth will believe?  She already doesn’t like you too much.  And if you do tell her, then instead of just 1 person, you’ll have 3 people mad at you.  My advice is to just let it go; it’ll blow over after a while.”

I took my brother’s advice and said nothing.  Beth and I were never bossom buddies, but we did get along a lot better as we grew older.  We never talked about the incident, but I never forgot it; and it hurt to think that she didn’t know the truth. 

That was over 35 years ago.  Seeing Beth again brought it all back to me, including the pain of being unjustly maligned and never being able to set the record straight.

A few weeks ago, I saw Beth again in Wal-Mart.  We talked and talked while waiting in a long, slow cashier’s line.  She was so kind and jovial; she even invited me to join her and some of our other schoolmates who occassionally get together.  All of a sudden, the reins on my tongue that I had held tightly for so long were loosed. 

“Beth, I’ve always wanted to right something that happened way back in school.  I got blamed for starting the I-hate-Beth-Green Club but it wasn’t me…blah, blah, blah.”  (Just so you know I’m not all bad, I never revealed the names of the 2 other girls.)

“There was an I-hate-Beth-Green Club?” she asked.  “Hmmm, I didn’t know that.  You learn something new every day.”  She looked hurt and wasn’t quite as pleasant as she was before my mouth spewed forth like a pent-up geyser.

I felt sick as I walked to my car. I couldn’t believe I did that.  More amazingly, I couldn’t believe she didn’t remember.  I mean, this unjust event tore at my gut for over 35 years — and she didn’t even remember it!  Then it hit me why I felt the need to blurt out my vindication: pride and anger. 

My pride (which was quite large) had been injured.  And although I had held my tongue all these years, I had harbored anger against the two other girls.  Instead of swallowing my pride and holding my tongue like I did back when I was young, I let my anger spill out as I attempted to restore my so-called dignity.  The result?  I re-hurt her and put a stumbling block in the way of our renewed friendship. 

So what have I learned? Either deal with an issue while it’s fresh and then deal with the consequences that follow; or, swallow your pride, extinuish any anger, and let things heal (or, in my case, let it remain healed).

Where was that brother when I needed him this time?  Oh, wait.  I’m supposed to be a big girl now.

A fool gives full vent to his anger,

but a wise man keeps himself under control.

Proverbs 29:11

**Not her real name.

“I don’t think I can do this!”

Today as I boarded a plane to Charlotte, NC, a 40-something-year-old woman sat down across the aisle from me.  She was obviously a little nervous, moving her lips silently and making the sign of the cross several times (touching finger from forehead to breastbone, from right shoulder to left). 

I turned to speak to her but before I could open my mouth, she said, “I’m not crazy! I’ve just never flown before in my whole life and I’m a bit scared.” While I was reassuring her that all would be well, I was thinking, “Well, so much for that work I was going to do in-flight.”

“Do you fly a lot?” she asked. 

“Quite often,” I replied.  “There’s nothing to it.  No, no, hon. Turn the buckle around the other way like this.  See?  It snaps right in.  There you go.”

“How tight do I tighten it? It’s got to be really, really tight, doesn’t it?” she asked, pulling the belt with all her might.

“Oh, no! That’s too tight!  You need to be able to breath easily.  There, that’s good.  Now just sit back and…

Frightened woman-small“Why are you sitting on the aisle side?  Don’t you like looking out the window? You get scared, don’t you? It’s scary, isn’t it? I don’t know if I can do this!” Her voice pitched higher and higher with each question. Then she abruptly turned and slammed down the window shade.

“No, no! I like the aisle because you have more arm room and you can get up easier if you need to get something or to go to the bathroom.  Actually, I like looking out the window, too.  It’s very beautiful.  Now just relax and…

“What’s that? What was that noise?” she asked, jerking herself upright, her eyes as big as saucers.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. The flight attendant just closed the door.  That’s a good noise; you want to hear that noise!” I joked, trying to ease her tensions.

“I’m sorry!  I’m just so nervous. I’ve never done this before. I’ve heard stories. I just don’t know if I can do this!”

I was trying to calm her down with another witty comment when the flight attendant, who heard what was going on, offered to let the woman sit on the front row close to her.  “That way, at each step of the way, I can prepare you for what’s going to happen next and hopefully make your first flight a great experience for you.”

The woman gave a frightful look my way. And I, being the compassionate, patient, kind and loving person that I am, said, “Go!”  Of course, I meant it for her own good, don’t you know. 

“And we urge you…encourage the timid, help the weak, be patient with everyone.”*

(Oops!)

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people…clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”**

(Ouch!)

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing…Love is patient, love is kind…”***

(Uh oh!)

“Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.”****

(Excuse me — I’ll be right back after this short prayer break!)

As the plane streaked down the runway and lifted into the air, the woman said, “Is that it? Wow!  That wasn’t so bad!”  Throughout the entire flight, the attendant spoke softly to the woman, letting her know what to expect and gently answering her myriad of questions. By the time we reached our destination, the woman was sitting in the windowseat, shade up, marveling at how the earth looks from 30,000 feet. What a transformation!

You know, I failed to show this woman the love of God, but she and the flight attendant surely showed it to me!  How  much like the woman I am — frightened little child at times, seeing and hearing danger all around me, anxious about every little thing, asking question after question.

And God? He’s like the flight attendant: He comes to me in my time of need. He’s patient and compassionate. He answers each question with tenderness, never calling them “dumb” questions. He calms my fears, bidding me to be anxious for nothing but to trust Him.

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love…

As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him…”

(Psalm 103:8 & 13)

Thank you, Lord, for being my “flight attendant”; for being patient with me as I travel on this journey called life; for gently talking to me the entire way and answering all my questions; for being compassionate and kind to me when I’m like a frightened little child; and for loving me with Your abounding love!

 

*1 Thessalonians 5:14     **Colossians 3:12     ***1 Corinthians 13:1-4     ****James 4:17

LORD, shut my mouth!

“Don’t even bring up her name!  The mere mention of it makes  my blood boil!”

“I can’t believe he went behind my back like that!  I’m so angry I could spit!”

“Girl, I haven’t spoken to her in years!  Let me tell you what she did to me…”

“I know he didn’t mean it that way, but it still hurts.”

Ever been guilty of saying those words or something like them? Hurt feelings. A wounded heart. A broken confidence. We’ve all experienced them — and caused them. 

I remember years ago when a woman confronted me with an illustration I used in a Bible study. It was an inspiring story involving a mutual friend. She felt I was wrong in sharing it and called to tell me so. Even though I told her I had our friend’s permission to use the story, I couldn’t quite get her to see my side, so I gave the old “we’ll just have to agree to disagree” response. She wasn’t satisfied with that. She called another mutual friend and had her call me about my error. 

Now, I hadn’t known the first caller very long; I had known the second much longer.  We were very good friends and I was hurt that she had taken a side against me. After I explained the situation from my viewpoint, she became confused. She agreed that what I had done was not wrong but still was “disappointed” in me.  For what, I had no clue.

I confess to you that this was one of those times when God took over. I believe he literally put His hand over my mouth and kept it shut.  This was certainly not something my flesh did on its own! I found out later that the underlying problem was not with me.  The woman who initiated all this actually did not like the friend in the story and did not want her to get any accolades for Christian love and service! But the damage was done: my good friend (the second caller) and I were never as close as we were before that time. 

Though my heart was wounded, I refused to nurse any bitterness toward these two women.  One was a new Christian who was still living in the flesh; I knew she’d grow out of it with time, Bible study, and prayer.  The other was being deceived and I had to trust God to open her eyes.  Again, it was God who put this attitude in me. A few years later, just before she moved away, my friend confessed to me that she had been deceived by the other woman, that she’d been told things that simply were not true, and she apologized to me. She mourned over her mistake; I mourned over the years we had lost as intimate friends. 

In this story, God supernaturally kept my mouth shut, kept things from escalating, and put in my heart the desire to pray rather than retaliate. Oh, I could have shared a story about when I didn’t keep my mouth shut and things really blew up — but there were just too many of those stories to choose from! But I wanted to show you (and to remind myself) how faithful God is to fight our battles for us and to heal our wounded hearts.

Let me just say that James was absolutely right when he wrote that the tongue “is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts…”(3:8). The tongue is such a minor part of your body but it can do major damage to the Body. How much stronger the Body of Christ would be if all its tongues were kept under the control of the Spirit!

Author Kate McVeigh has said, “When you have a wounded heart, don’t nurse it or rehearse it, but curse it and disburse it, then God will reverse it!” That is so true!  It is also true that it’s easy to say but hard to do!  So I think I’ll just continue to seek God’s help, regularly praying, “Lord, please shut my mouth!” David put it much more eloquently when he wrote:

Set a guard over my mouth, O LORD;

keep watch over the door of my lips.

Let not my heart be drawn to what is evil…

Psalm 141:3-4a