Facing Who We Really Are

WARNING: Sometimes TRUTH is UGLY, and if you can’t handle the truth in all of its raw-ugliness, you may not want to read past this point. Nothing is candy-coated or censored. You may wonder “Why am I writing this way?” These are things I can’t deny, and writing them out makes them visible. Plus, I can’t weasel my way out of it.

An integral part to our healing is facing who we really are, because until we face and acknowledge who we REALLY are, we can’t grow past those chains that are holding us back. Why? Do you have, or have you had, broken-relationships? I have had my “fair-share” and then some. Losing my middle daughter to cancer past year was a grim-reminder that I have been leaving carnage in my wake for over forty-years.

I thought I was “a pretty good guy“, but if you believe that lie, maybe you would like some real-estate I have for sale, which is as worthless as what I thought about myself. In reality, I have been a pretty self-centered-asshole for most of my adult life.

God, much to my chagrin, is answering my prayer for Him to clean-out those dark-recesses in my heart that aren’t pleasing to Him, and I don’t like what I am seeing. God has been opening doors to chambers that have been collecting-dust for over forty-years, chambers, chapters in my life, that I would rather forget. Be careful what you ask for, because you may not like what you get…

What if something I said to Connie shortly after we got married plagued her til the day she died and may have contributed to her demise? I had told her that “she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket“. Did what I said make her feel “unworthy“, “less-than-adequate“? Connie has been gone since October 22, 1997, so I can’t turn-back the calendar and take-back those words. Yes, I was an arrogant-asshole. What if I really DO have blood on my hands, Connie’s blood? Words can kill…

What happens when a “virtue” becomes a “vice“? I grew-up poor, so taking good care of what was MINE, was a “celebrated-virtue“, but there are times when clinging to tightly to what is MINE is SELFISH. We really wouldn’t NEED that riding-lawnmower when we moved, but we took it anyway because my wife had bought and paid for it. Add SELFISH to my growing rogues-gallery. That is another dusty-chamber that hasn’t seen the light of day for almost forty-years. Been there, done that, and not proud of it.

Another one that hit me like a freight-train several years later was PRIDE. Aren’t Christians immune to pride? Doesn’t the indwelling of the Holy Spirit make self-obsession impossible? I wish the answer was “YES“, but sadly the true answer is a resounding “NO“. We aren’t immune to pride. In a previous piece, “Who Is YOUR “god”?, I mentioned a couple of things from my own life…times when I was self-obsessed…times when I was PROUD. My life would have been so much easier if God had decisively struck pride from my life, but He hasn’t.

“I wasn’t consciously proud. Maybe most proud people aren’t conscious of how proud they really are. But I felt that I had arrived. In ways that now shock and embarrass me, I thought of myself as a grace graduate. I didn’t minister out of my own need… In ways that are hard for me to imagine now, I thought I had spiritually arrived. I had a scary self-assurance.” (Paul Tripp, Dangerous Calling)

I remember an event from 1997 which shows just how deep my pride problem is. As I was leaving a 12-step meeting, a friend, who had been in many meetings with me, turned to me and said “Steve, you are the proudest person I have ever met.” Had he not inserted the “Steve“, I might have been able to wonder who he was talking to, but he left no doubt. Why was I PROUD? What did I have to be PROUD of? Was it because I was an ordained Elder in a conservative Presbyterian church? I was in a 12-step group…for sexual addiction. I had fallen to the lowest of the low…sexual addiction, and I was a porn addict on top of it. That wasn’t anything to be PROUD of, but PRIDE had obviously come through loud and clear from what I said in those meetings. I was stunned. I was a PROUD sinner.

What if the root-cause behind arrogance, pride, selfishness and self-centeredness is IDOLATRY? We are created to worship, and the problem is WHAT we worship. There is no such thing as an “atheist“, because even though atheists don’t acknowledge that there is a God, they have set themselves up as the “supreme-being” in place of God, so their “god” is themselves. I mentioned that pride is in direct opposition to God. Why? Because, when we are proud, we are telling God that we are more important than Him. If we are more important than God, we are placing ourselves in His place, and we are demoting the very God of the universe. We are making ourselves “god“. It is that plain and simple. God and pride don’t mix.

If you are beginning to wonder “Is this what it will be like to face God on the judgment-day?”, this is barely scratching the surface. God knows ALL the thoughts and attitudes BEHIND our words and actions, all those deep, dark, nooks and crannies that nobody else sees. In reality, we are far more polluted, far more sinful, than we have the capacity to realize. When Isaiah the prophet saw God in all His glory, he could only cry out:

“Woe is me, for I am undone!
Because I am a man of unclean lips,
And I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips;
For my eyes have seen the King,
The LORD of hosts.” (Isaiah 6:5)

Who we are isn’t just about what we say and do, but it is also about who we are on the inside, our thoughts and attitudes, because our words and actions arise from our thoughts and attitudes. I was just reminded – again – that I have no room to judge anyone else. I received a call recently from a friend who told me something I was a bit surprised by, but shouldn’t be, because I have done the same thing. Why should I expect her to be any “better” than me? Just because her boyfriend got in her panties doesn’t mean that I never wanted to when she was my neighbor. I would be lying if I said that getting in her panties never crossed my mind, because it did, more than once. She’s a pretty cute gal. After all, I AM a man, and I am not dead yet, but she was more like my little-sister than someone I could be involved with romantically or sexually.

If you are thinking that this all sounds pretty harsh, you may need to be reminded of what Jeremiah 17:9 says; “The hearts is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; who can know it?”(NKJV)

Is a rapist, pedophile, murder or abortionist really more “corrupt” than people who don’t do those things, or is that level of corruption ingrained in all of us? The verdict from Jeremiah 17:9 is that we are totally-corrupt. The ONLY difference is God’s restraining-grace.

Sin is a disease, and like its physical-disease analogues, it can’t be treated until it is diagnosed. Sin is soul-cancer, and like other forms of cancer, it may reappear at other times and in other places. I have a history of skin-cancer, and even though I haven’t had a skin-cancer in over five years, I can’t let my guard down. I HAVE to get checked every year, just in case, and those check-ups have to be thorough and all-inclusive. If it can’t be seen, it can’t be checked, so I can’t be bashful around my dermatologist. Yes, even “those” places need to be checked, because skin-cancer has the nasty-habit of showing-up in the most “unlikely” places. God is our soul-doctor and He sees EVERYTHING, whether we like it or not, but we have to be open to Him revealing what He sees. We can’t work with Him on what we don’t know about.

Circling back to the beginning: An integral part to our healing is facing who we really are, because until we face and acknowledge who we REALLY are, we can’t grow past those chains that are holding us back. Our healing from the cancer of sin is a life-long process, known as “sanctification”. In God’s redemption-economy, we are “justified”, made right with God, when we come to faith in Christ, but that doesn’t mean that we instantly sin-free, because we aren’t. “Positional-righteousness” is instantaneous, but “personal-righteousness”, becoming more and more like Christ, is a life-long process which won’t be complete until we take our last breath.

This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.” (1 Timothy 1:15) These words, written towards the end of Paul’s Apostolic ministry, were not reflecting back on his life before his conversion, but were based on his growing awareness of his own sinfulness. Paul, though an Apostle, had not “arrived”. As I look back on my own life, Paul was a “rank-amateur” by comparison. If he was “chief”, I am “pro-grade”, but with the “bad-news”, Paul gives us the GOOD NEWS, the GOSPEL; “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”, which means that He came to save me, and to save you.

How serious are you about becoming more like Christ?

Are you willing to embark on what may become an uncomfortable-journey?

Sola Deo Gloria!

Invincible…

Yes, I wish I was invincible, but I’m not. When we are young, we may think that we are invincible, but as we get older, and those health-debts start coming due, we may find that we don’t have enough in our health-bank to pay those debts. I was just reminded AGAIN that I am NOT invincible.

After my eye-stroke in 2007, I have tried to take better care of myself, and while doctors have kept hounding me to lose weight, I am the lightest that I have been since about 1980. But, the health-debt from my younger years was still too great, so this time I had an episode with my heart. I am no “fan” of hospitals, although I have spent a LOT of time in hospitals with my good friend and neighbor, Liz, who has had four surgeries and many other hospitalizations, but I had no choice.

This past Monday evening (1/25/16), I had just finished eating supper, so I got up to take my dishes to the sink, and suddenly my heart went into palpitations. I have had two or three of these episodes before, but they have all resolved within a few minutes, so I sat down in the same chair I am sitting in now, at my computer. A few minutes later, I checked my blood-pressure. It wasn’t particularly high, but my pulse-rate was over 150 beats per minute. Over the next few minutes, I checked it three more times, and as my pulse-rate went up, so did my blood-pressure. My pulse-rate topped out at over 170 beats per minute, and wasn’t coming back down. It was time to do something.

Thankfully, Liz got home about the time I started having the palpitations, and since I had been text-messaging with her about it, she was ready to go when I was. By the time I walked out my door, she had pulled her car in front of my driveway. We quickly decided that I should go to the nearest hospital, which is less than ten miles from here. When we got to the hospital, she told me to stay in the car while she went inside for help. Liz worked in an Emergency Room for several years so she knew what to say to get their attention, and within two or three minutes, she and two other people came outside with a wheelchair. I was immediately whisked back to the triage station, bypassing the waiting room, which was full, and admitting.

While a young fellow took my vital-signs, a young lady entered my information into their computer. A short time later, I was taken back to one of their treatment-rooms. After I got into that room, a nurse hooked me up to a monitor and inserted an IV line. She also drew blood for lab-work. A few minutes later, a technician brought an EKG machine in and ran an EKG strip on me. She did notice an anomaly on my EKG. An hour or so later, the ER doctor came in to tell me, based on my vitals, the lab-results and the EKG results, that she highly-recommended that I be admitted and see a cardiologist the next morning. I was a bit hesitant, but I also know that heart-disease runs in both side of my family, so I agreed. Liz had to go back home to try to get some sleep because she had to work the next day. By about midnight, I was moved to the cardiac care unit (CCU).

I am a frequent blood-donor, but that doesn’t mean that I “like” getting stuck. That didn’t keep a “vampire” from coming in every three hours for more blood. I didn’t sleep well that night because my system was still keyed-up and the air-vent above me sounded like a jet-engine. I may have slept for a total of two hours – maybe. Anyone expecting to get some rest in a hospital will get a quick reality-check.

The cardiologist came in first-thing the next morning, and he ordered an echocardiogram and a chemical stress-test. A lady appeared with the cardiac-echo equipment a few moments later. I have had several echocardiograms through the years, so it was no big deal. Shortly after she finished the echocardiogram, I was taken downstairs to nuclear medicine for the stress-test.

The stress-test was done in three stages, or phases. I was injected with a radioactive material, and then my heart was scanned with a gamma-camera. That scan took 15 minutes. Next, I was taken to the stress-test lab.

There are two varieties of stress-test, the exercise stress-test, and the chemical stress-test. Because I have limited mobility, due to severe arthritis, and COPD, I was given the chemical stress-test rather than the exercise stress-test. The exercise stress-test involves walking on a treadmill with the intensity being raised every three minutes while hooked to a ten-lead monitor. The chemical stress-test involves getting injected with a cocktail of chemicals which stresses the heart similarly to exercise while hooked to a ten-lead monitor. That may have been the most physically-grueling five minutes I have ever had, but my tech kept encouraging me through it. Once the chemicals wore off, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had survived it.

Because I and the other man who went through the stress-test at the same time hadn’t eaten since before midnight the night before, they took us to a little nook where we could eat and drink something. The orange juice tasted a bit strange and the turkey sandwich was a bit bland, but it was a welcome repast. After I finished eating, I was taken back in for another gamma-camera scan.

After I was done with all the tests, I was taken back up to my room where lunch and a big cup of water were waiting for me. Lunch was DELICIOUS! Yes, hospitals CAN serve good food, at least once in a while. My afternoon was spent waiting for results, and waiting, and waiting. I did manage to get a couple of cat-naps during that time. My nurse hooked me up to a bag of potassium, LIQUID-FIRE, and it was main-lined and bare-back with nothing to dilute it. When I couldn’t take the burn in my arm and shoulder any longer, I asked her to disconnect it, which she did. As hard as I try to keep my potassium level up, it wasn’t enough, and I sure hope I don’t get that low ever again.

The cardiologist finally came in to see me after supper, and when he did, he had a big smile on his face. I had passed the stress-test with flying-colors!!! He also told me that I have a strong, healthy heart, which was even better news. I had NOT had a heart-attack, and even though I do have some anomalies in my heart, I am NOT a heart-attack waiting to happen.

What I dislike most about being in a hospital is feeling “cooped-up“, because I am not able to move about freely as I choose. I don’t like getting stuck multiple-times, but being “cooped-up” is even worse. I did get excellent care, and kudos particularly to the nurses who cared for me. Special kudos go to Myra, my day-shift CCU nurse, because even though I gave her fits, she always had a smile on her face, and I always knew that she cared about me.

When my legs get restless and start cramping, I get restless and have to get up and move around a bit, so I would disconnect the monitor, hang the urine bag on my pants-pocket, and walk around. Every time I did, Myra would remind me to stay in sight of her, because if something happened while I wasn’t on the monitor and out of her sight, she would feel responsible. She accompanied me on one of my forays which meant that I could walk farther than just inside that small unit. Thank you Myra!

I am sure that Myra was ready to “get-rid” of me when it time for me to get discharged, because she accompanied me and Liz out to the lobby, where I gave her a big hug. Thank you Myra, because you made my hospital stay a bit more pleasant.

Special thanks go to Liz, who stepped up to the plate when I needed help. I was not in any condition to drive myself to the hospital. THANK YOU LIZ!!! You were my angel.

No, I am NOT Superman and I am NOT invincible. I am just an ordinary guy who is paying the price for pushing myself many times in extraordinary circumstances. I am reminded that the Apostle Paul also knew a bit about weakness and infirmities and left us this gem of divine-wisdom.
Because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me—to keep me from exalting myself! 8 Concerning this I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me. 9 And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. 10 Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:7-10)

“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is perfected in weakness.”

In Christ,
Steve

The Heart Of A King…

Their homeland was deserted, their Capitol was in ruins, and what few people were left of their nation were scattered far and wide. A marauding army had swept through their country slaughtering men, women and children, razing cities and towns, and taking anyone they didn’t slaughter captive. Their temple had been reduced to rubble, but not before the marauders looted everything of value. The situation looked hopeless. Then there came a decree…

This scene could be part of our 21st century world, but these events took place about twenty-six hundred years ago. The people were the children of Israel, their capitol was Jerusalem, and their captors were from the Babylonian empire. God had used the Babylonians to punish the children of Israel for their idolatry, just as He had promised, but it was time for their exile to end. Then there came a decree…

The children of Israel still didn’t “get-it“. Even after being taken captive several times, the children of Israel kept going back to their idol-worship. Each time they repented, God delivered them. Wash, rinse, repeat. Wash, rinse, repeat… God was faithful to them, but they weren’t faithful to Him.

The Proclamation of Cyrus
1 In the first year of Cyrus king of Persia, that the word of the Lord by the mouth of Jeremiah might be fulfilled, the Lord stirred up the spirit of Cyrus king of Persia, so that he made a proclamation throughout all his kingdom and also put it in writing:

2 “Thus says Cyrus king of Persia: The Lord, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth, and he has charged me to build him a house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Whoever is among you of all his people, may his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem, which is in Judah, and rebuild the house of the Lord, the God of Israel—he is the God who is in Jerusalem. And let each survivor, in whatever place he sojourns, be assisted by the men of his place with silver and gold, with goods and with beasts, besides freewill offerings for the house of God that is in Jerusalem.”

5 Then rose up the heads of the fathers’ houses of Judah and Benjamin, and the priests and the Levites, everyone whose spirit God had stirred to go up to rebuild the house of the Lord that is in Jerusalem. And all who were about them aided them with vessels of silver, with gold, with goods, with beasts, and with costly wares, besides all that was freely offered. Cyrus the king also brought out the vessels of the house of the Lord that Nebuchadnezzar had carried away from Jerusalem and placed in the house of his gods. Cyrus king of Persia brought these out in the charge of Mithredath the treasurer, who counted them out to Sheshbazzar the prince of Judah. And this was the number of them: 30 basins of gold, 1,000 basins of silver, 29 censers, 30 bowls of gold, 410 bowls of silver, and 1,000 other vessels; all the vessels of gold and of silver were 5,400. All these did Sheshbazzar bring up, when the exiles were brought up from Babylonia to Jerusalem. (Ezra 1)

While it might be easy to get the impression that Cyrus was a “godly” man, he was quite the opposite. He was as big a heathen as those who had gone before him. If we pay close attention to what he said, he never acknowledged that “The Lord, the God of Heaven…” was HIS god. He was, like the Pharaoh in Egypt, simply following orders.

God had given favor to the children of Israel allowing them to raid the Egyptians of gold, silver and other precious things when they left Egypt. God likewise gave the children of Israel favor to raid the Persian kingdom of everything they would need to rebuild the temple. The children of Israel made quite a haul, and if we look back at just what was needed for the tabernacle, it was quite a haul also.

Our world…
As we look at events in our world, both locally and globaly, it would be easy to lose heart. Evil is rampant, including in the halls of government. Many politicians wouldn’t know the truth if it slapped them in the face, and lying has become a way of life. What is good for the people, particularly Christians, no longer matters. What matters is keeping them and the global string-pullers happy. It seems to be too late to ask if things will actually get better…but…

Sometimes we lament that God isn’t taking care of the “big” things while we forget how many “small” things God does frequently. “Divine Appointments” is about three “small“, but no less important things that God has “handled” for me recently.

Pharaoh and Cyrus were no less evil and no less corrupt than our current leaders, and yet, when God spoke, they listened, and did what He told them to do. God is still in control, whether we see it or not. As we saw in “Bible Study – The Birth Of Christ“, God caused Caesar Augustus, the Roman Emperor, to “arrange” for Mary and Joseph to be in Bethlehem at the appointed time. There is not one king, one president, or any other leader who is beyond God’s control. By the way, NOBODY is beyond God’s control. Do we not believe that God could do the same in our day?

I believe He can. How about you?

In Christ,
Steve