The Lord said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountain apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. God was in the whisper. 1 Kings 19:11-12 Bold words mine.
Years ago, I sat at a basketball game between my high school and the cross county rival. Each time their cheerleaders did a jump, the crowd for our side would groan to magnify the pressure on the floor and convey how heavy they were. After all, girls were supposed to be light and pretty and meek. I'm not sure why this scene bothered me so other than the realization that those girls were powerless to stop the insults being thrust upon them. I could identify with that. I have spent much of my life thinking if only I was more powerful, this or that would or would not happen.
Fast forward 20 years and my daughter's cheer team literally practices the smack on the floor during the dance, the goal of unified back tuck landings that make the floor vibrate and boom. They scream "POWER" with every jump and stunt. I watch them and allow myself to feel that this daughter is safe from harm and hurt. After all, she is everything I never was; physical and mental strength in her every fiber.
As we have traveled this horrible journey of anorexia, I have wished this child had such power. I have clung to verses that express the power of God. "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" "Greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world." I have viewed this as a literal fight and even screamed at my hurting child to "kick this demon in the teeth." Find your power. Be strong. If only she or I were powerful enough I have thought.
I was somewhat taken back on our arrival at residential treatment. While there were plenty of Bible verses and inspirational quotes on the walls, nothing spoke of strength or power. I had to wait on a driver and got the blessing of being able to sit in the corner for 30 minutes or so and just observe and listen. This was a really calm and peaceful environment. The word that kept coming to mind was light. The movie playing (it was a Friday night) was about the value of friendship and how each person (horse) mattered. The girls had verses in their cubbies "You are fearfully and wonderfully made" "You shine like stars in the universe" "Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?"
Elijah, the prophet of the story above, had literally just been apart of one of God's amazingly powerful moments. Elijah had called down fire from heaven. He had slain the prophets of Baal. He had witnessed a corrupt and evil people repent and turn to God. And yet..... he himself, ran into the mountains in fear for his life. All the power of God did not stop his personal descent into darkness. He had to find God in the whisper.
I am learning that the pathway to healing will look alot more like breaking down the strength with which she has clung to starvation and replacing it with a weakness that acknowledges "I am not in charge." And then allows God to set her worth; not a number, not an accomplishment,or the world. It will be choosing to hear the whisper and not the earthquake or the wind. I guess I am there as well. My power has not been enough. My Mama bear, overprotectiveness. My insistence on "fixing" this. I have too often listened to the loudest clang or bang. I have allowed "false prophets of Baal" to speak over my child. I too have been seduced by the power. God is powerful. Sometimes we too are powerful and it can be an amazing moment. But at the end of the day, I have to make sure I am looking for the real and only God in the whisper. Not a mighty military leader sent to save by the sword, but a savior sent to humble himself even to death on a cross. She and I have to stand on the mountain and wait for the whisper and as we pour out our pain, the Lord who could have anything and yet still chooses us, will as he promised, bring peace and light and healing. Dear God, come and whisper to us.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
My Grown Up Birthday Wish
Long ago and far away, I took my brother in law, Michael, and another young man on a 4-H trip. As teenage boys sometimes do, they got in trouble. As we started down a very long hall to the scene of the problem, the other young man kept saying "She's not that mad, she isn't even yelling." A much wiser Michael responded "This is worse, when it's really bad she stops talking." How right he was. I am a yeller by nature, but when it really gets bad, I go underground. The last week or so has been no different. A close friend commented, "we knew it was really bad when all the updates began to come from Brian."
Today is my 39th birthday. The event has been largely overshadowed by the dark state of our family right now. Even an abundance of bright shining candles atop my pudding filled angel food cake can't penetrate the shadows settled over our home. Not just shadows, but a deep moonless night. An inky blackness. The stuff of a Frank Peretti novel. But..... I can still dream of birthday wishes.
My daughter is hurting. Our hearts are breaking as we make decisions no parent should ever have to make. Our younger children are angry and overwhelmed. Sometimes it seems we are all drowning. We are fighting professionals with differing opinions and agendas, and sometimes we seem to fight the very demons of hell. And we pray as we have never prayed before. We pray for healing. We pray for wisdom. We pray for peace. We pray "I believe, help my unbelief!"
As Southern Baptists, we pray for missionaries on their birthdays. I have been told that missionaries intentionally plan huge even impossible events for those days because they are so confident they will see the majestic hand of God as thousands of Christian brothers and sisters stand in the gap and bring their concerns before the throne. We do not know all the details. We rarely know the outcome. We simply pray.
My birthday wish today is that you be willing to do the same thing. I can not share all the details. You may never know all the events of the outcome. We need to see the mighty and amazing hand of God. We need a miracle. Simply pray.
Today is my 39th birthday. The event has been largely overshadowed by the dark state of our family right now. Even an abundance of bright shining candles atop my pudding filled angel food cake can't penetrate the shadows settled over our home. Not just shadows, but a deep moonless night. An inky blackness. The stuff of a Frank Peretti novel. But..... I can still dream of birthday wishes.
My daughter is hurting. Our hearts are breaking as we make decisions no parent should ever have to make. Our younger children are angry and overwhelmed. Sometimes it seems we are all drowning. We are fighting professionals with differing opinions and agendas, and sometimes we seem to fight the very demons of hell. And we pray as we have never prayed before. We pray for healing. We pray for wisdom. We pray for peace. We pray "I believe, help my unbelief!"
As Southern Baptists, we pray for missionaries on their birthdays. I have been told that missionaries intentionally plan huge even impossible events for those days because they are so confident they will see the majestic hand of God as thousands of Christian brothers and sisters stand in the gap and bring their concerns before the throne. We do not know all the details. We rarely know the outcome. We simply pray.
My birthday wish today is that you be willing to do the same thing. I can not share all the details. You may never know all the events of the outcome. We need to see the mighty and amazing hand of God. We need a miracle. Simply pray.
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