Conversations with God

Recently I was reading in 2 Kings.   Anyone who’s read it probably remembers how many “bad” kings there were in Judah and Israel at this time—ones who “do evil in the eyes of the Lord and don’t turn away from the sins of their fathers,” generally leading to the nation being overrun by their enemies. So chapters 12-15 were a little refreshing, with King Joash of Judah repairing the temple and “doing what’s right in the eyes of the Lord,” followed by his son Amaziah.     The line of righteousness continued with their descendants King Azariah and his son Jotham.     Then I got to chapter 16:   “Ahaz son of Jotham king of Judah began to reign. . . . Unlike David his father [ancestor], he did not do what was right in the eyes of the Lord his God.   He walked in the ways of the kings of Israel and even sacrificed his son in the fire” (vv 1-3). What?!   How did a man coming from 4 generations of reformers end up so degenerate as to sacrifice his son to a...

We ask the Lord to Let it Rain Open the Heavens, Father, Let it Pour Down Without realizing He’s already sent the rain He’s pouring out now But our jars are broken The clay is cracked And what we collect runs out While we’re trying to drink it We want to take it to others But it’s spilling to the ground As we try to pass it on So the little we have is lost Before our neighbor can catch it And now we’re all dying of thirst While the rain pours down around us We need new wineskins To hold what’s already been given So we let it fill us up And make us new As we offer it to others So now they're receiving the overflow The top, not the bottom, The best, not the dregs Mixed with the residue of our lack

This has been such an amazing Father’s Day.   A mini background –1 ½ years ago, shortly after I moved to Kansas City to be a part of World Revival Church, my father was diagnosed with cancer, had major surgery, and passed away.   It all happened in the space of a month, and I don’t remember many of the details. One thing that does stand out is sitting in the spare bedroom of my parents’ house a day or two after the funeral.   I wanted God.   I needed God.   Desperately.   But I felt like there was a thick, unbreachable wall between me and Him.   I hurt so badly it was terrifying to feel anything, and I was utterly unable to get into his presence. Fast forward a few weeks, and I was back in KC.   Although the pain was still terrible at times, there was no escaping God's presence during services.   It was the only time I felt safe enough to break down and feel, because he was so close and so strong. But it was more than God being there for me. ...

I lived in a box Fear hedging me in on every side How terrifying it was To look beyond myself And see the world You lifted me out And I took baby steps forward Away from my comfortable cage But not so far I couldn’t look back And see my old prison Eventually You nudged me further And I began inching my way along I was on a tightrope Bottom too far to see And lions all around My eyes stayed glued to my feet Then one day I looked up And realized I was in a broad place I was standing on solid ground The tightrope was gone My tormentors were nowhere in sight And I was free

In Mt 7:17-20, Jesus warns his listeners to beware of false prophets, calling them wolves in sheep’s clothing who look harmless but are actually vicious.   It occurred to me the other night that religion is the same way.   From the outside, it looks so wonderful and convenient, like cheap fabric softener:   “Smells great!   Gets rid of static cling!” The box it comes in looks so good and makes lots of guarantees; but when you take it home and try to use it, your clothes look worse than they did before. Religion makes so many promises:   “Jesus wants to be your friend.   Just ask him into your heart, and everything will be all better.”   There’s no talk of who Jesus really is, what he demands of his followers, of what the Bible says.   It’s all about making you feel better and painting Jesus' name on it. So people fall for it and then wonder why their lives don’t change.   That’s when the wolf comes out.   “Didn’t you say my life was goin...

A couple of months ago, J.D. King taught on healing in a way I had never heard.     He talked about not waiting for some mystical feeling to let us know we've been healed, but to act and exercise our faith by moving the injured or affected part of our body.   His sermon revolutionized the way I prayed and believed for healing. Then last night Pastor Kathy preached on names—who do we say that we are, and who does God say we are.   She named names that are spoken or claimed even from childhood:   bozo, autistic, abused, broken, desperate for love.   She proclaimed that His Name is higher than any name we can call ourselves. I responded to the call for prayer; but before anyone came to pray for me, God began speaking.   I was saying, “God, only You have the power to name me; I want Your name for me.”   He stopped me short by reminding me that in the Garden of Eden, He gave Adam the power to name things (Genesis 2:19, 20).   He told me, “It d...

One of the first poems I ever wrote was about lying alone on the edge of a cliff, broken into a million pieces, waiting for someone to come glue the pieces together.   I was a sad, hurting teenager, and didn’t know where to turn.   I was desperate for some person to swoop down and save me. The saddest part was that, as messed up as I was, it never occurred to me that God was the one I could turn to, even though I had been raised in church all my life.   It never even crossed my mind that he could change my situation.   I believed he existed, but he was no more to me than a far-away stranger that I expected to see someday when I died. It took 13 years for me to finally get sick and desperate enough to go looking for God, instead of sitting in my self-pity waiting for him to come to me.   To my astonishment, he was easy to find when I actually tried.   Why had no one told me how this works?   It was so easy; yet none of the countless churches, ...

God came to church today And when he came I couldn’t move I couldn’t speak All I could do was shake At the glory, power, presence, majesty Heaven touched earth And the heavenly beings flowed around his throne The rushing of their wings It was cacophony, it was thunder It was thousands upon thousands Of voices raised at once It was glorious, it was terrifying It was beautiful I could see the sound Golden light vibrating in adoration His holiness pouring out . . . Who did you see at church today?