Thursday, September 11, 2008

Believing God week 7


Believing GOD

Here I am, staring at this vast, blank post for going on 15 minutes. Wishing really hard that it was Lid's week. Go visit her to read her take on this week's study. I have no doubt it will be worth your while and maybe even make up for what I have(or haven't) done here.

I have a couple of choices. First I can ask you how you found this week to be. Was it easy for you? What truths did you learn about God and yourself? I can't tell you how eager I am to hear from you this week.

I could write a cheery, uplifting and completely false post about our Believing God bible study, week seven. I could say things like "Someone wants to say glory." or "Can I get a hallelujah?" But I want to mean it when I say it. Maybe next week.

Or, I can say I forgot that today is Thursday and post more zoo pictures. Sounds fun to me!

Perhaps I could nudge somebody else to write this post because frankly I'm not feeling it.

What I am feeling is a little upset with our friend, Beth Moore.

There I said it.

She brought up things this week that I think are better left buried.


Not remembered and certainly not focused on. If I talk about when I was a young child, I say the words, but they don't penetrate. That way it won't hurt. I am good at this.


Yes, I have a tendency to pack unpleasant memories away like old garbage and hardly ever ponder them for any significant amount of time. Works for me.


Until the dam bursts, anyway. Or until the lovely aroma from the rotting garbage becomes stench that I just can't live with any longer.


Is this one of those times? I'm not sure. I do know that spending time looking at my early childhood brings up feelings of shame, loneliness, fear and anger. That doesn't sound good and it makes me feel like I should have thrown that garbage out a long time ago.


That would involve forgiveness.Letting go. And believing God. I thought I already did those things.


Maybe I can't really forgive and let go of something that I don't fully acknowledge.


Just as I can't be thankful to God for things I haven't before fully acknowledged.


This week, instead of just being grateful for the rescuing work that was done in my life at age 18, and all the blessings that followed, I began to work at being thankful for the beginning of my life and searching for the ways He was working, even then.

I am believing God for this.





O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up.


You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do.


You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. You go before me and follow me.


You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!
I can never escape from your Spirit! I can never get away from your presence! If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I go down to the grave, you are there.


If I ride the wings of the morning, if I dwell by the farthest oceans, even there your hand will guide me, and your strength will support me.


I could ask the darkness to hide me and the light around me to become night— but even in darkness I cannot hide from you. To you the night shines as bright as day.


Darkness and light are the same to you.
You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.


Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born.


Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.
How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me! Psalm 139 1-18




8 comments:

2nd Cup of Coffee said...

It was indeed a rough one. I'm glad you didn't go safe with this post. If we, the body, cannot be honest with each other in our struggles, we are a dysfunctional family, not good for each other nor for those who have sincere questions about faith. This was/is a fiery trial for you. It's like a tunnel that you can't go around, over, under--you gotta go through, but our Redeemer holds us by his right hand, and when we come out on the other side, we are alive and stronger and "believe God" even more. You are not feeling so hot today about this, but I know God's heart is beating wildly for you, and his loving hand is on your head, covering you with his love.

Jenn @ Casa de Castro said...

I'm believing with you. Thank you for your honesty. Now we can pray specifically.

Love you, friend!

Cindy-Still His Girl said...

Love you. And I'm looking forward to seeing what God is going to do with all of this.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for being honest. I'm sure you are not the only one to feel that way about this lesson and you being open about it will help them, too.

Diane said...

Being honest and open are a step towards working through things. I'll be praying for you.

BIG hugs,
Diane

Brenda said...

I kind of felt that this was another one of those "tests" that I, more often than not, fail. Trying to recall all of the blessings when I KNEW/KNOW God was at work.....right...uh oh. However, once I got over the initial annoyance that I must chop my life into 5 equal parts (I HATE Math- but love cooking...hence the "chop") I was pleasantly surprised at how many blessings I really had never counted as blessings at the time, but could look back on now and recognize. Even having grown up with two loving Christian parents, there were trials, hardships and times when I had felt alone, insecure or unloved. This turned out to be a healing and helpful time for me. Hey Di, we all have take out the trash day.

Michelle said...

You always have a way of making me reflect. I love you for that.

Amy Plumb said...

I love that you are so open and honest.
I wish I could be more like that. I hide and stuff everything.
Amy