Sunday, March 05, 2006

Chapter 12:Listening to His Whisper pt.1

Even as I rest in His arms, my mind is drawn to an issue, a thorn that I have not overcome, one that continues to plague my thoughts and my heart. I am reminded of Ezk 5:7…you have not followed my decrees or kept my standards…. I know this cannot remain or it will become a gulf separating Him and me. I do not want to break this closeness now, but I do not want anything that will separate us to remain.

He told me this was a place for reconnecting, that He would deal with issues, but would not push me away. I procrastinate a few moments, but no, I cannot allow this to grow between us. “Papa?”

“Yes, child.” There is something in His voice that reminds me He already knows, none of this surprises Him.

“You know what I am thinking…” I try to avoid bringing it up.

“Yes. Tell me any way.”

There is now no way around confession I suppose. “I am seeing something now, that there are issues I have with a person, a woman, the issues run deep. I know I thought I’d dealt with forgiveness, but I think there is more than that. I cannot seem to get past this on my own. I think I need your help.” I cannot suppress a deep sigh. “Your correction, to turn from this. I cannot see this clearly, but You can. I want real change in this, this time, nothing half way, like it has been. I know there has been sin, but You, only You can show me where. Please, Papa, correct my heart. Change and transform me into what You desire. I fear pride has crept in…please, help me through this.” I close my eyes in shame.

But, He hugs me nonetheless. I feel Him smile on me even as He releases me and begins to rise from our sitting place. “I am pleased, little one, I am pleased.” He begins, as He walks to face me. “You heard My whisper to your heart and responded, I am pleased.” He nods thoughtfully at this.

I wish that was more comforting to me right now. I know it should be, but the anxiety and dread I feel threaten to overpower. I cannot look up, even as I wait for Him to begin to show me the awfulness of my sin. “Papa, please, change my heart,” I whisper, covering my face in shame. “I do not want to be apart from You.” I stiffen in preparation for the truth.

“First, “ His voice is stern. “Repent and confess what you already know.”

It is difficult, but I begin. “I think I have been jealous, Papa. I repent of my jealousy, I repent. I repent of the pride will not submit, that finds fault and criticizes. I repent of this pride. I see now how I have dishonored You in all this, Papa, by not seeing and receiving this rightly. I repent for dishonoring You!

“Oh, this hurts to see!” I cry out more to myself than to Him. “Change me! I don’t want to keep this any longer!” He begins to painfully reveal my sin to me. “Rebellion! Oh Papa, I have been in rebellion against you. I repent, I repent. My independence has become an idol to me! I repent of my idolatry.”

My sobs are ragged now as I convulse with the gut wrenching agony of this revelation. How much I hate idolatry and how guilty of it I am! I notice suddenly that my hands are clenched as well. I know there is something that I must release. “I submit to you Papa! Show me what this is!”

He does not hesitate to show me. I see a judgment against an alcoholic mother and a vow that no woman would ever speak into me, ever be over me again. The throbbing ache of heart that made these judgments rises fresh once again. “Forgive me! Forgive me!” I sob, forcing my hands to open and release the judgments and vows they hold. The effort though is agony.

“Show me how to do this right, Papa! I will obey, I will! I want to do this Your way!” Even as the words pour forth, a new fear overtakes me. “But I am afraid, Papa! I am afraid! She hurt me—she hurt me so much I am afraid to let her touch me!” I never realized the fear resident in this place, nor that this fear itself was sin as well!

This latest revelation is too much for me, every fiber of my being wants to run from seeing these things! I cannot do this on my own, I can’t! “Papa! Help me, please, please give me Your arm! Help me stay here to be changed!” My own strength is not sufficient here.

He does not hesitate, even the barest of moments. He is there, giving me His arm to cling to, to draw strength from, even as His correction continues.

“I repent of this fear! Of setting her before You as more to be feared than You – as another idol! Forgive me!” I weep bitterly falling to His feet. I think I am there along time – His feet are wet with tears. I feel myself drawing into myself with the shame and stain of what I have seen.

But He calls to me, extends His hand. I must reach out though to take it. It takes me a long time. He is patient and waits for me. And finally I do, I reach for Him. His strong arms help me to my feet and He leads me to the waterfall. On the way I cry. “Forgive me for being critical, for looking for things to find fault with!” We stop; I begin to fall to my knees once again.

“Stop now, conviction is becoming condemnation now. Do not go there.” His voice is very firm. I dare not disobey, even though the guilt still draws me.

Part 2-->

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