Last week, on Monday, I found peace to buy some plane tickets. The trip was for my husband and me, to go visit my mom and step dad.

They had been moved to a facility to help care for their needs. My mom had a leaky heart and Alzheimers, my step dad has a host of things that go with a 96 year old deteriorating body.

My own journey of healing had seemed to require an 11 year absence from relationship. Six years ago I began the process of rebuilding relationship. Visits here, phone calls there…in March is when the deep reconciliation with tears and forgiveness happened on both sides. I am so glad we had that time. The deteriorating health meant weekly or biweekly calls to my oldest sister. It has been wonderful rebuilding our friendship, so much richer for the healing both sides have gained.

Tuesday was a court date for my family. A nephew had stolen a bunch of my moms money. A sister had made some threats. Restraining orders needed to be in place. But the court session went awfully. What should have been done had not been done and what was currently requested was redirected to another area of the courts. When I found out on Wednesday, my heart went before the Lord. I pleaded with him for mercy. I asked him about justice. I argued with how things went in the natural.

He didn’t answer.

Then.

My mom had a nice Thanksgiving. People who love her were around her. And that night, after being put to bed, she got up. And she fell. And her head cracked open. And she was on blood thinners. Friday morning at 1 they found her. She died on the way to the hospital. 

I know that was his answer. He allowed me to witness parts of her transition. And I have hope that now my mom is finally seeing what a real marriage is supposed to be like, for the first time. her three marriages had not shown her what marriage to the Lord would be like.

No, I will not attend the memorial. I do not have a family that is able to gather and celebrate a life. Right now there are tensions and threats and hate between different siblings. My portion does not include having the memorial my husband’s family had where their mom passed.

No, I do not get an inheritance. I gave all that up when I chose my healing path away from blood relatives. No I do not have any mementos from my mom. That too was my cost. The house is sold and all that she had has been distributed to those who stayed within the area.The pictures I have of my mom, three of them, that I had when I moved, are all that I am able to preserve from my childhood.

The pain, in the waves it comes, is great. She was my mom. And I am flooded with moments, moments of memory, that touch deep sorrow for what was and what shall not be, here. These are not regrets, but more like an acceptance.

But she sees it differently now, I believe. Instead of the pain she knew when I moved away to heal, she feels joy at what the bloodline has gained.

I just wish, and probably always will while I am here, that we could finally sit down and really talk about it. I mourn, and I hope. And I continue. And I am undone at the Lord’s dealings with her. Surely he is perfect love. And he makes everything beautiful in its time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I long for people to be healed. Sometimes it is my failing, in that I want to help some even when they do not desire it.
I believe that healing exists so that men might know God better. In his presence stuff gets addressed. People receive love. People become free to love.
The cross is enough to heal all wounds.
But sometimes I misunderstand the role I am to play.
And I offer tools that are not received.
I try not to take it personally.
It doesn’t have to be the way God healed me.
As long as I perceive healing is being sought. Some way. If you want to be close to him, then you get things out of the way that interfere…right?
And yet.
Peter.
Peter spent three years with Jesus. Living with him. Eating with him. Drinking with him. Hurting with him. Healing with him.
And this morning as I am on my way to work out, God addresses me.
And he says.
What about Peter?
I recall what I know.
His betrayal, the return to fishing, him asking about John. And that part that has always stuck with me. Verse 18 of John 21. 18 Yes, indeed! I tell you, when you were younger, you put on your clothes and went where you wanted. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.”
And the Lord asked, was he perfected during the time we were physically together? Was it through the eating, the healing, the miracles?
Did the time he spent with me heal him so that he did not betray me for his life?

Was his heart free when he wondered about the future of another so that he might compare it to his own?

And I am seeing, no, the time with Jesus did not accomplish that in Peter’s heart.
It was not as simple as being in the presence of Jesus.

Sometimes it is the hard things that do not conform to our wants, wishes and desires that perfect us.
Sometimes it is the things we ask for that he says no to that help us seek to understand a love higher than our own, an affection that is larger than our limited sight.
Sometimes, in the suffering, the obedience of saying, not my will, but yours, when everything in us cries out for him to fix stuff according to our paradigm, is what prepares us for a destiny that is larger than our comprehension.

I think of how it is not enough to love those who love me. And I know it is also not enough if things go the way I want them to.
I think of the Bride in Revelations 19….looking at the smoke that ascends from that city forever. Did she have family members there? Yet she looks at him, who is the cause of that smoke. And she says True and Righteous are your ways Oh Lord.

In his suffering he learned obedience. Not because God is mean, and wants to rule like a dictator. But rather because God is love, and being in alignment with love yields the highest receipt and return of love.

Would Peter be who he is right now, if he had not had that prophecy fulfilled. 18 Yes, indeed! I tell you, when you were younger, you put on your clothes and went where you wanted. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.”

Did it look like Peter was being healed when he said, I do not know him? Could anyone perceive that Peter was undergoing internal transformation that was preparing him for eternal destiny when he was being dressed and carried to where he did not want to go?

Yet Peter was perfected by his end.
Sometimes it is just being able to connect with him that takes us through the next level of understanding and growth. And sometimes it is walking through the hardest places of life, where his voice is not always clear, that is required.

This empowers me to bless without needing to fix.
This allows me to look for Fathers hand in things that do not fit my definition of good.
This allows me to grow beyond the finite comprehension of my mind.
And this is what allows me to hope, and believe the promises before they appear.

It is only through partaking in the fellowship of his sufferings that part of knowing him happens. Knowing him. It is worth it.
Hard. And true.

It is hard to find adequate language for life these days.
How to convey the depth of these experiences.
I seem to be on a fast track of learning.
I work with a eleven people. Ten of them have these.
Me too.
Getting my own healing while helping others find theirs is a roller coaster!
At any given moment I find myself in the grips of contending through various and sundry emotion.
Grief. Sorrow. Anger. Determination. Awe. Lots of awe. Surprise. Shame. Compassion.

So, what are these?
These are human spirits that started out like you or me. Created by God. matched to a body and soul. Given time and a life. And free will.
But something happened. Something went terribly wrong.
Life in the body was lost.
And for some reason or another, they got stuck.
Some in the land. Some in people.
Stuck from entering eternity.
Stuck here with no bodily form.
And they do their best to find a way to continue that doesn’t leave them hopeless.
They exercise their will from within the space they now occupy. Only. It isn’t right. It doesn’t work. And its unclean.
They need to go.
Through what is called an eviction process.
Some are easier than others.
It is not about legal ground. They have none.
It is about a power encounter. God says go. They need to go.
Wild.
It gets wilder.

In Scripture when Jesus set people free, he rebuked and cast out a lot of stuff. It is interesting to note that the word demon is used, the word evil spirit is used, and the word unclean spirit is used, in different places.

So now there are tools to remove them. Rather, the tools were always there, but now we have rediscovered them.
The same way Egypt had to let God’s people go, these spirits need to let go. God provides help, when needed.

After the initial creepiness passes when contemplating a bodiless spirit of another human occupying me, the work itself is relatively simple.
It is just that every case is different so we need to lean on Jesus for each one.

Exciting, wild, sometimes crazy, and always interesting. Life in God.
selah

There are days when the weight and witness comes to rest upon me.
It feels like the cloud of witnesses has opened again.
How long…cries can be heard.
The weight and direction shifts as newbies enter with what they have left- the legitimate heart of God and the direction their life represents.
It is not like a tug of war. because everyone knows that when they all come together they move in God’s direction, and that is the greatest prize of all.
Groans. Supplications. reminders. Both to Father and to us.
The moment when I knew there was extra strength to do things. The moment that I knew the affirmation outweighed every negativity.
One foot in.
Out again.
The cloud.
The hunger grows as the numbers do.
Soon their weight will outweigh ours.
Then, their thrust will be unstoppable, as kingdom comes, on earth as it is in heaven.
I wonder how the work with AHS affects this.
My sense today is of a great joy.
The cloud knows joy when things come into alignment with God.
Closer.

Hebrews 12:1 CJB
Complete Jewish Bible
So then, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us, too, put aside every impediment – that is, the sin which easily hampers our forward movement – and keep running with endurance in the contest set before us….
selah

This was a shared spirit. Her and her daughter. Her family was into all things new age, and all spirits/deities were welcomed. Her mom was borderline. Her dad was absent.

I have just begun doing this stuff. I do not have full understanding but Wonderful Counselor does. I am not even free myself. I have gotten rid of some but not all. And all of my childhood, the punishment I saw, over and over, to defy or not submit, was death. I think sometimes they bought kids to die so we could be trained. We, being the ones that stayed alive. And somehow, I am prompted, this is a part of the justice of God on the earth. For me to rise into the authority he bought and paid for, a long time ago. I ponder his ways.

So these shared human spirits were anti Christ. Not all that I find are in rebellion. Some are confused. Lost. Without instruction. Trying to avoid shame or punishment. Thinking that what they accomplished was not enough. Those are relatively easy to help. I honor them. recognize them. Affirm them, and remind them about who God is. And he sends angels, escorts. Opens the silver channel. They go home.

Not so with the anti Christ ones. They are in agreement with Sheol. They kick and scream. They threaten and harass. They hate God. And his children. They belong in eternity reaping what they have chosen. But they make a deal to come back, temporarily. Most of them have no regret. They hiss and snarl. And usually, the person reports what is going on as this happens internally. But these, they wanted to talk. To me, through her. They wanted to tell me how much they enjoy what they do. And I am face to face with the conflict of childhood, evil doers that are not in the right but that have power.

It was good for me. Going through the power encounter. Seeing them sent, with enforcer angels, to where the Lord wanted them to go. And it was hard for me, being face to face with the hatred of darkness again. Only this time with authority behind me.

God wins.
Today she is free, and reporting an overriding peace she has not known before. Her faith in God has shifted, and her faith in darkness has decreased. I rejoice. Truly that is the journey we all are on. Coming into perfect alignment, and agreement with the superior covenant of Love.

I am undone by the grace of God in my life, to allow me to be on the earth at this time and to participate in these holy battles. Surely he does all things well. Just look at my life.

Today the robins and squirrels are playing in the leaves and eating. Sometimes they bump into each others space. It is quite comical. Their agenda is so simplistic, they do not worry for their next moment. They do not manipulate or plan things. They make a nest when it is time. They eat when they are hungry. They birth when it is time. I am not suggesting that this model of simplicity would work for us as human. But the being in the moment, and not worrying about the next, that is a lesson Jesus taught. And the trust that he cares and intervenes, that too is from God, for us, in them.

The same day I wrote my blog, on repenting for wishing the trees we steward were redder, I had some friends over. My favorite friends are the ones I can enjoy the land with. These friends do. Together we exclaimed over the joy in this soil. We felt awe at the gift God has entrusted us with. We felt the trees in their solid strength. We walked in the woods, and blessed life while receiving life. It was amazing. My husband was not present physically. He had some stuff to get at Menards and was intent on finishing the wiring in the garage. I was a little bummed he missed our time. But then, in the middle of dinner, he walked in with some papers. He handed me some papers and said I would need them.  I opened them up. It was a receipt and a how-to-plant guide. He bought a tree. He not only bought a tree but he bought the kind that turns color in the fall. And he not only bought a tree that changes color, he bypassed the one I thought we wanted, which turned out to be a hybrid. Instead he bought one native to this land. And one of my friends chuckled and said…it was just like he was with us on our trek over the property.  And I thought, that very morning I had repented about my judgment. This very evening God moved on my husband. And I am reminded…he does everything well and in the right time.

A few days later our tree went in the ground.

The next morning someone asked me what his name was. I didn’t know. And I was unwilling to name him if he already had one. And all I had heard from the oaks during the plant, was, ‘we have tested him, and he is good’.

As I went out to see how he had fared through the night, I heard a chuckle. And I heard his name. Melvin, elv for short. Chuckle. I look at him compared to the oaks. And I chuckle too. Elv indeed. Melvin he shall be.

The celebration of life continues, and today I am a part of it.

One of my favorite seasons is fall. I love the ways the trees yield their glory to enter the dormant season before rebirth. It is a cycle of life I resonate to. And now we have moved. And we steward amazing trees! And I waited, because I was sure the trees in OUR yard would look more glorious than any one else’s. I expected our trees to make me proud! We have white oaks, pin oaks, lots of bur oak, and I thought…red.
But nothing is red.
And the oak trees are not turning.
And the hickory trees are a sweet golden, but we have no red in our yard.
And as I feel disappointed, I have to examine why.
I expected the trees to be glorious to please me.
I take it personally.
Instead of the maturity of knowing that I get to steward what I am a small part of, and seeing the beauty of it all, I was in the selfish immaturity of assuming whatever happens around me is because of me and about me. That is the way a child thinks. Oh dear.
I was also grumbling because every one in the family had seen deer but me.
This morning I watched as a mother doe and her two young followed her across our back yard.
It was mothering at its finest.
Leap quickly through the open fields. And pause and listen when you get to the woods. Go slow and blend.
She taught by her model. They followed.
And I felt special, for a moment. Like it had something to do with me because I witnessed it. And surely witnessing the doe was more important than witnessing the coyote I saw in our back yard the first week.
I realize I have been in a dating relationship with the earth.
I have enjoyed it when it pleased me.
And I have stewarded haphazardly with the underlying expectation that if I cared for it, it would do what I wanted it to.
This morning I find myself in repentance about that. It is a gift of God that I get to be a part of this big wide world.
All of it.
And there is fresh commitment in me to love creation the way he does.
I remember him telling me I would not have the wisdom to direct the snapping turtles to go elsewhere until I love them the way he does. I knew it was wisdom but here is a deeper level.
This is not the wisdom the world values.
To them it appears as foolishness.
But for me it is the next season of growing in the ways of love.
It is the commitment a wife makes, to steward what belongs to her husband. Instead of a girlfriend, who wonders what it will be like in an unrealistic way.
He knew the doe would come today, to teach her children in front of me.
He knew I would learn too.
Surely he does all things well.
Just look at my life.

I was on my way to jazzercise this morning.
The Lord pressed himself close to me and asked- Are you ok with my dealings with your mom?

I started to cry.
My mom was found naked and wetting herself recently. She fell and broke some ribs so it was determined she needed help caring for herself. She was in a nursing home recovering from the fall when she got a bad CNA. The CNA left her on the commode for hours. her nightgowns with feces were not washed. And her diapers were forgotten. This is the interim time between getting her recovered and establishing her in a facility that cares for Alzheimers.

When I made the move to gain distance from my family in 1993, it was because the Lord had indicated it was what I needed to heal. It was hard then, and over the years various parts of it have been excruciating. This is my mom. Yes, I was abused. Yes, even by her. But she is my mom. I was her carbon copy. She is the only mom I will ever have. That makes her irreplaceable, and now with her in this condition, even my visit must consider other relatives that hold naught but ill in their will towards me.

And here she is. Dying from a leak to her heart. And losing her sanity. And experiencing abuse in a nursing home.

And the Lord awaits- are you ok, Tanya, with my dealings regarding your mom?

What do I say?
The quick first response is no, take her home to be with you quickly.
The second thought from the brain tries to sort out how much is the Lord in her current condition.
The third response, which I want to be the first response, is, All of your ways are perfect Lord. Help me see your hand in this.

And he seems to say, your brothers and sisters still have many judgments against her. And I see a picture that involves righteousness, and how there is a perfect proportion the earth must experience to glorify God.
I ask if my forgiveness can stand in their place.
He goes on. And there is your mother herself, and the judgments she holds and will not release.
I begin to see that his ways in this truly are higher than mine.

And I really do not know entirely what it is like to be her right now. Sometimes I have shared moments. But not the whole. Not the entire of essence and life choices that have become who she will be.

I think of Revelation 19.
The Bride, upon seeing the smoke from that city ascend forever (due to destruction) (did she have any family there?) responds with a wholehearted declaration. True and righteous are your judgments Oh God.
That cry precedes his coming.
I long for that to be worked into me, into the Bride, the wholehearted embrace of his ways his timing and his decrees.
And I consider my mom. And know that some of it is because of her choices, some of it is because of my family, and some of it is because of original sin, and rebellion, an iniquity. And the turning from God in the bloodline.

And I cannot see my Father allowing something unjust to go on forever or without reward. And I cannot see him punishing like this.
And I also know the dangerous to some prayer that is within me- do whatever it takes God to get me ready for eternity.
And who am I to say or to sort these dynamics or their proportions.
And I stand with Job, and say I thought I knew, and now I am in sackcloth and ashes.
Forgive me for the place in my heart that thinks to know anything but the truth that true and righteous are your judgments, God an I am not even sure whether this is that or something else.

Humbled. Broken. Walking still.
He sees the end from the beginning.
And he knows what he is doing.
And from that perspective, I pray.

I went to see the One Direction movie with my daughter tonight. She is a fan.
It is good to spend time with her doing things she likes to do.
I have heard a few songs from this band but had no real opinion one way or the other.

The movie brought insight, in a way I did not expect.
I kept wondering, through the first part, how the group got so big.
Their beginnings were odd. They had nothing really going on before Simon, found them. Putting them together was a fluke. No love bonds there. What kind of supernatural effect is going on, that they should rise to the success they have found?

Then the movie talked about the girls. How they decided to make this group famous. They devoted their lives. They sacrificed. They made their intention their priority.

And wherever you see the virtue of God, you will likely see His purposes.

I saw it when Jesus, beside me, said, my bride will be like that. My bride will behave that way and feel that way about me. I felt his longing. And I saw, in the success of one direction and their fans, in their relationships, lies a picture of Christ and the bride.

Even the wooing that goes on, the tender first meeting, first kiss songs they sing, all speaks of an opening love.

And when one of them, in interview, commented, he was not sure if someone could love him for just him. he would wonder, do they love him because he has all this.

And I saw how Jesus solved that problem, for the pure love he wants. He gave it all away.

Through the rest of this movie, seeing from this perspective, all the rest came into place. This explains the wild success. God is allowing it to stand as a model that is a microcosm of what it will be like in days to come. And of course there had to be so many of them, how else could it be a legitimate picture of our Lord unless there was diversity and differences and many changing ways that come together in unity.

Their title. One direction.
Of course. He knew. And he knew I would be seeing it today, with my daughter. And that I would share with her the day that is coming, when the bride will emerge wholehearted with single purpose and self sacrificial love.

My heart leaps and my spirit stirs. Not what I was expecting when I entered the theater. But it was what he anticipated, and now I rest in the delight of finding the alignment he offered today.
Surely he does all things well. selah.

I remember the first time I heard mark shout that, into the microphone, at the end of Hornblend, on the boardwalk of Pacific Beach.
33. I was 33.
It was an outreach, California style.
Mark would hook up a car battery, roll it out on a dolly, and plug in his amplifier and a few mikes. We worshipped, that group of San Diego Vineyardites. No permits. Just praise. And mark would shout out things, from time to time, that drew the curious, the seekers. They would ask those on the periphery, who are you? What are you doing?
We did who we are. They came. They drank.
I remember that phrase, he was famous for it.
Less of me.
More of Him.
I remember the phrase, from other places and times. Real death. Later, his death. And the metaphors of death. Dying to me, to my pride, to my ideas, to my ways. For God’s ways to superimpose. Yielding. Beyond just saying yes. Saying no to me, to say yes. This is the fast I have chosen. Because He makes everything beautiful in its time.
That day, on Hornblend, the stretch for me was what He asked me to bring. I was new to the group. Relatively. My sister went there, but I was not good at making friends, so though I had come awhile, I did not know anybody.
And He said, he wanted me to bring two fish and five loaves. To the outreach. As a sign. he wanted to multiply. He emphasized fresh fish. Crap. These people were going to think I was nuts! Suppose the pastor could not receive them. All the reasons were stacking up. fear of man.
I had his email, so I emailed that pastor. Gary Goodell. Can I bring….?
His gracious response. Sure. Go ahead.
I went shopping. Fresh fish was the harder item to find. In the Albertson’s on the package I found the words the Lord had spoke. They were the fish. The bread I got from the Wonder store. And I took it with me to the beach that evening. I set it all down behind the amplifier and went to worship. It has always been an avenue where I find God. No matter who, or where. I enter, He is there, I am lost in Him.
I heard soon after that the fish had been grabbed. Some homeless folk had asked for them and were cooking them over a fire pit on the sand below. Delight filled my heart that the Lord had used me. The bread however, sat. And sat. And remained.
Later Gary told me that he had often bought bread and the homeless there would not take it. For some reason they were bread snobs, he said with a grin.
Perhaps it was food for the birds.
I remember that phrase today. So much has changed yet not very much at all, in a way.
It is a good day to die.
A good day to yield me, in favor of Him.
I am in love.
His life is mine.
Selah.