Fill up the Lack

Colossians 1:24

New King James Version (NKJV)

²⁴ I now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up in my flesh what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ, for the sake of His body, which is the church,

The council members had our emergency meeting today, the regular people didn't show up. We had members that haven't participated since I've been secretary. People that the nosy lady can control. It was an awful attack on me, subtle and vicious. Mostly by the nosy lady. She slipped up at the end by telling a big woman that is battling cancer, that she glad she didn't "beat anyone up at the meeting." I had prayed before the meeting so I held my dignity. One of the women she got to come to the meeting is a dear sweet lady that gave me a set of dishes when I first moved in, another comes to the bible study regularly, both were really late for the meeting and trying to appease her without offending me, the other (the big lady fighting cancer) she actually did the same, but said more then the others. I took notes, made a suggestion that we should have an annual cook-out on one of the summer holidays for the residents that don't have family. Ms. Nosy veto it with the most hateful look one can imagine. Still I held my peace. Before long the meeting was over.

I walked back to my apartment, a little hurt and kind of mad. I was mad at that last comment, "beat anyone up." Of course my flesh wanted to challenged her to try it, but I don't walk after the flesh, but I walk in the Spirit. I tried to make a phone call to talk about my accusers but my phone hung up, I want to say by accident, but I know who hung it up. I just said, okay, I'm bringing it to you. I prayed some more. Then I walked to the guys who told me about his sisters being raped at the orphanage. I had an overwhelming urge to go pray for him. He was drinking vodka and having real issues. He told me he was raped too. I have known that since the day Jesus told me about all the pee-stained mattresses he sit and cried on. The guy also told me he watched his mother murdered by a boyfriend for catching the guy molesting her eight year old daughter. My heart broke for him, I prayed with him and left. By the time I got back to my apartment I couldn't feel anger for any of them. All I could feel is the suffering I felt the day Jesus told me about their past. All I have in me is His love.

I think I finally understand what Paul is saying in Colossians 1:24 I understand the suffering, I know mine is small compared to Paul's and really small compared to Jesus's, but at the same time it's not small, because I feel His pain. It's intense and I feel it in the pit of my stomach. This is the actually the third time this pain has happened to me. Once, when I had to minster to a group of street women. His love and pain for them was so intense I spent the night crying in a fetal position. The next time it was after I wrote the story of being raped, he told me he's going to use that story to set many free. I spent three days in that fetal position. My friend Melodie visited me during that time. She told me it's a blessing, because I was "travailing." She said she wish she could feel it. At that point I wished the same thing, anybody but me. It didn't feel like a blessing at that time. The third was a couple of weeks ago concerning the people in the building. It's not easy to share in His suffering, but that's the only way we can reign with him.

I did go to nosy lady's apartment to give my resignation from the council. I just don't need the aggravation. Ms Nosy has the spirit of the mean girl or bully. I confronted it head-on. She cried and denied everything. I told her I was not angry, I'm just not for childish games. She went on to try to combat what I was saying by complimenting me, like the pharisees did Jesus. I wasn't having it, I called that demon for what it is. I asked if I could pray, all the time I was praying she was making petitions for Abba to tell me she was not guilty of what I said (she did), she screamed loud with tears, It was sad and awful. I hugged her and told her I love her, I really do. I didn't resign, only because Abba told me not to during the prayer. I did things Jesus's way. I had something against her so I went to her. She came up against God and lost. I know it wasn't me. I think I may have finally gotten it right, but not without a whole lot of help from the Holy Spirit. It's His work, I'm just a vessel, a big glob of clay being molded by the Potter. I do rejoice in my suffering it's what makes us beautiful.

I walked downstairs and yet another women from the bible study, whose not apart of the council came to me and asked how the meeting went. She has never asked me anything about the meetings or taken any interest in them. Apparently she had heard of the conspiracy against me. I told her it went well. Truly all is well.

Fearless

Preparing To Be Maligned

Last week the Holy Spirit spoke to me and said, "prepare to be maligned." I thought to myself, oh no! To be honest I'm not really good at being lied on and talked about. By not good I mean, I defend myself and get hurt feelings. I have been known to get feisty and mean too. Not to mention the way I call my mother, sisters and friends and trash the gossipers. Talk about a group of sharped tongued, quick-witted, vicious women. They make the gossipers sound like saints. I usually take comfort in the way my love ones defend and affirm me. It usually works for at least a minute or two, as soon as I hang up the phone the hurt in the pit of my stomach returns and I fight the back the tears-or not. However Abba wants me to bypass my calls and come to him with my pain. I know that's the right thing to do, but I sometimes have a hard time doing the right thing, No matter how many time He tells me it's him they are coming against,s it still feels like me. I'm such a crybaby sometimes.

My sister Claudia told me I have to develop tougher skin. She also advised me against the kind of verbal attacks that wound the gossiper. That don't seem fair! But I know she's right. I have to always remember that everyone that I come in contact with is a person Jesus died for and I'm His ambassador. I have to give up my right to be right and let him fight my battles. He once stopped me in the middle of my smart-ass defense and verbal insult that my quick-witted, genetic and environmental rearing afford me. As soon as I open my mouth Jesus said, " I never uttered a word." I know immediately that He didn't want me to defend myself, because He never defended Himself. I was predisposed to being a total smart-ass, but I shut up mid sentence.

As a young child of seven or eight after my dad went to prison, I thought I needed to be more grown up. I had to protect my mama from the neighborhood creeps that were always hitting on her. There was this one guy that was particularly annoying. He was considered a neighborhood good guy, but I knew he had bad intentions. He was always knocking with offerings of food, rides or any type of help he thought we needed. To say I despised him would be an understatement. One particular day during one of his many futile attempts at winning my mama heart, she had gotten really annoyed. I asked if she wanted me to get rid of him for her, she said, "yes." Me, never one to miss an opportunity to misbehave legally asked, "can I curse?" She must have really been annoyed that day, because she said "yes." Boy oh boy did I let him have it. "What the hell do you want? Why are you always knocking on our door? My mama not here! and if she was she don't want you, your buckets of chicken or anything else you have, now get your ass away from our door." My mama gave me a disapproving look, but not before I caught a twinkle of laughter in her eyes. My brothers and sisters were laughing hysterically. After that day I was unofficially declared the household smart ass. My job was to get rid of all annoying communicators whether it was would be suitors or bill collectors. I took my job seriously, although I was never allowed to say bad words again.

It's been years that Abba has worked on me to unlearn these crazy behavior patterns. Not long after that day I was sent to live in Kentucky with my great-aunt Maude, uncle Charles and my all time best big sister/cousin Sheila. They lived in a small quiet country town. Everyone knew each other, most went to church on Sunday. Sheila played the piano at church aunt Maude attended regularly. I was probably quiet and sweet the first few days, I have always been mostly shy, but it didn't take long for the hell-raising me to come out of hiding. Aunt Maude had no problem taking the strap to the backside of that little hell-raiser. I never got spanked for what I did, it was always something out-of-line that I said. I wasn't used to spanking as I never did anything I was told not to, but I was always allowed to say whatever came to mind. Years later aunt Maude told me some of the things I said, I was mortified. Despite the spankings I was loved by my new family, and because of aunt Maude I meet Jesus for the first time. He's been trying to keep that hell-raiser in check every since. I pray that during this maligning that I get it right, and realize that they really did do the same to Jesus, and it's not me, but the fact that I teach the unadulterated gospel that drives the talkers desire to discredit me.

The talking has started, one woman that has an IQ of 65 per her, called me stupid at least 3 times that I heard. The nosy lady is mad at me for changing the council annual memorial day yard sale until the first of June, I just thought it would be better to wait until the mostly senior and disabled people get a check in case they want to purchase anything, and for the neighborhood folk to not be busy doing other things on the holiday. She has called me twice in the last couple of days being completely nice-nasty. I'm almost certain she's bad-mouthing me. There's no telling who else is talking about me. I'm surrounded by wounded and hurting people, unfortunately wounded birds will peck you no matter how you love them. I just don't want to be ever found guilty of wounding them more. I just want to set my face like a flint, and look to Jesus the author and finisher of my faith. I want to love despite the ridicule and rejection.

Fearless

PS not defending myself is not one of my strong suits.

Comforted

Mat 5:4  Blessed are they that mourn! For they shall be comforted. 

I'm amazed at how fast the bible study is growing. I have fallen hopelessly in love with every toothless, wrinkled or weather-worn face. I have been teaching on the ministry of the Holy Spirit. I pray each of them receive this awesome gift Abba will freely given, to all who ask. I'm leaning more about these precious souls that Abba has trusted in my care this season. One guy told his story, he was raised in a Catholic orphanage, him and his three sisters, he said all of his sisters were raped. He said it was a horror story for all of them. He found it hard to believe in Jesus. One drunk night he stumbled into a tent revival and Jesus touched him, not only touched him, but filled him with His Holy Spirit. His brokenness lead him back to drinking. Yet he shows up sober, which might be his only sober day of the week.

The self-proclaimed devil's advocate said she was raped at the age of eleven. She didn't go any further with her story. I could see the raw pain in her face, though she sort of took on an attitude of bravado. She told this story to me when we were having lunch together one day.

One nice sweet lady told me she was kidnapped by a man she had befriended several months prior to his kidnapping her. He beat her black and blue and she managed to get away by jumping down a steep flight of stairs. If the assault was sexual too, she left that part out. 

One lady was beat and strangled by a husband that sexually assaulted her ten year old daughter by a previous relationship.

While they are telling me the stories, I look them in their eyes and tell them I'm sorry that they were treated so badly. I tell them they deserved to be loved and honored, and truly they do, but when I'm alone with Jesus, when no one is there to peek into my soul. I cry for their innocence being stolen, their trust being broken. I cry to Jesus to heal them, I cry to the Holy Spirit to comfort them, I cry to Abba redeem them.

When Jesus wanted to set me free from the pain of being raped, he told me to ask Him where He was when it happened. Finally He told me He was on that piss stained mattress with me crying. I wonder how many piss stained mattresses has he had to sit on crying. Jesus said He was there for each one of them and He held them even though they didn't know He was there. He saw it all, every detail no matter how small.

One day soon He going to wipe all the tears from our eyes. This time we will know He's there wiping our tears, that He's with us, and loves us, and has always loved us. 

Today I cry with Him.

Fearless

High Things

2Cor 10:4  For the weapons of our warfare are not fleshly, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds,
2Cor 10:5  pulling down imaginations and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought into the obedience of Christ;

Lately the Holy Spirit has been teaching me about strongholds. Of course me being the detail needing-question asking person I've always been. I looked up the word stronghold in the Thayer Greek Definitions Dictionary, I sometimes like their definition better than Strong Dictionary, that's just my own personal preference. This is their definition:  

ochurōma

Thayer Definition:

1) a castle, stronghold, fortress, fastness

2) anything on which one relies

2a) of the arguments and reasonings by which a disputant endeavours to fortify his opinion and defend it against his opponent.

It's basically a belief or system of beliefs that we hold on to, argue about, reason, hold ourselves prisoner to, rely on, and refuse to give up even though it exalts itself over the knowledge of God. I asked Abba to show me how strongholds work. I fell asleep soon after asking Him to show me how stronghold work. This is what I dreamed.

 I was with a friend and I went shopping for tools to build my house. I went to the mall three times and each time I got a new tool. I was the proud owner of brand new tools to build me a house. Each new tools was perfect to me. I had begun to work on my house when all of sudden I had a strong urge to do drugs. I knew the thoughts were crazy and harmful, but the desire was so strong I decided to look for drugs. Now me being an ex drug user I knew how dangerous the desires were, but still I wanted it. I realized I didn't know anyone that knew where to get drugs, so I went back to people I knew that still used drugs. My friend was with me and He keep trying to reason with me, but I keep telling Him I would only do drugs once and I could handle it. The thought of using drugs began to consume me. The more I reasoned the more I desired. Finally my friend gave me drugs. As soon as I did the drugs I realized I didn't want them nor did I need them. My friend asked me if I was happy now that I had drugs, I said, No. He asked what I would do now, and why did I do the drugs? I didn't have a physical need for drugs. I said get more drugs, He asked me with what? Since I didn't have anything accept my tools. I told him I would sale my tools. Then I woke up.

This is what I got out of the dream. As long as I believe there was something I needed or as long as I reasoned/ relied on and desired things that were no good for me, I would give in to my belief system. The tools were the things I truly need in order to live godly. I noticed how it was three tools, I think that represented the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit and/or Grace, The Blood of Jesus and Keys to the Kingdom. Lately I have asked about healing and deliverance. My friend was Jesus, he allowed me to have what I wanted because I refused His wisdom. Yet, he never left me, however giving into those desires would cost me everything I need to build my house. I would willingly give up my tools.

 Why is the body of Christ sick and full of addictions and let's face it, demons? He said it's strongholds. Us refusing to let go of our ungodly beliefs. If you believe the doctors are wiser than the scriptures, then you will believe God is unable to heal. Some Christian will argue that depression is a real clinical problem instead of a soul issue. Don't get me wrong I know anyone suffering depression really feels that darkness and despair. I challenge the origin of it. If God promise joy, than were does despair come from? I remember hopelessness and despair it used to be my constant companions. But the stronger man came and set me free.

Jesus told it in the parable of the strong man and stronger man after the pharisees accused him of casting out demons by the power of Beelzebul. He said the stronger man must first bind the strong man and take his spoil. The stronger man is IN us. He gave us the Keys, whatever we bind on earth is bound in heaven. Why can't we hold that truth? God is who he says He is. There is only two kind of people in this world, believers and nonbelievers. I believe he can heal, I believe he can deliver, I believe my sins are covered, I believe that greater works shall I do. It's time to renounce all those strongholds that make us rely on the world and the ways of the world for anything. It's not in a job, a doctor, wisdom of this world-which is foolishness to God or self-reliance. Our lives are in His hands. I asked God to make me a fool for Him like Paul and Peter. I didn't realize that meant going against the core of what we have come to believe. He told me if I would believe His word he will show me great and wonderful things. Dare to believe with me. Forget about the past, where you may have believed for someone's healing and they died or any unanswered prayer. Dare to believe He heals the sick and raises the dead, cast out demons, and saves the lost. Get rid of those strongholds that exalts itself over the knowledge of God.

Get over those high things. Dare to arise in the power and authority He has given us. Don't sale your tools for something that has no substance.

Fearless