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Sorry He Ever Messed with Us

I laughed out loud in the dark as I had to pull over on the on-ramp to turn on the headlights in my little black rental car. It could have been sleep deprivation or it could have been sheer glee over how ridiculous it was that I was traveling alone for the first time in forever. The flight, the long walk through the airport, the process to get the rental car - every mundane detail felt a little like an adventure to me. I adore children and have devoted most of my adult life thus far to them, but there is something to be said about some time away every once in a great while.

This was no vacation though. I was attending a weekend conference for women in their twenties and thirties who felt called to write, teach, or speak. It was Beth Moore's brain child and she called it LIT. The prerequisite had been to complete a study called Entrusted, wherein she used the story of Paul and Timothy to encourage us to guard what God had entrusted to us, further the Kingdom by sharing Christ, and to pour into future generations. From the time the event was announced (and so few of us got in, but that's another story for another day) to the time of the event, my face was in that workbook every free moment I got. As God would have it, that window would be the exact window of time that my husband was unexpectedly unemployed. I feasted on His Word and poured over those pages and He kept my heart and my life hemmed in behind and before, like He always does.

Needless to say, by the time I got to Houston, I was ecstatic. When the time came to get on the elevator and go downstairs the next morning though, I froze and cried, terrified there in my hotel bathroom. (It took some serious coaxing via text from my husband and one of my soul sisters to get me to leave that bathroom.) I had followed the event on social media the night before and knew just how many prominent people were lurking in those halls. This was for real. This was a privilege. This was where the rubber could actually meet the road and that scared me to death.

I'd gotten really good at hiding, at blending, at pretending I didn't have any crazy job to do at all. I have never been able to articulate the burden I have felt for so many years. Let's just say by nature I might be most like Jonah. I have wanted to run and I tried several times and I'm always sort of wondering when the whale is going to show up, if you really want to know the truth. I know what I know, but until this point, I've lacked something integral to go forth, do the thing, and not turn back. Now whether that integral thing was confidence, humility, selflessness, willingness to share so many painful parts of my story, or some kind of courage bigger than the downright huge fear over feeling God that closely - I don't know, but I hadn't been able to find it for the life of me.

The LIT conference was an amazing weekend with precious women and powerful teaching. I even got to sneak away late at night for hot donuts with a dear friend I'd known by heart for years. I did what I do best in new situations and tried to be a wallflower, so all those "celebrities" passed right on by like I hoped they would. I did have the opportunity to speak to Beth briefly and I don't think I'll ever forget the fire in her eyes. She's just a woman, but she is so passionate for the Lord and so married to her calling. It's hard to even watch someone living in bold obedience when you're trying to hide and avoid yours, isn't it? I had the chance to show her a picture of my family, which had grown by three members since she prayed over my friends and me in Atlanta on my girl's very first Heaven Day in 2008. Standing before her a decade later, she took my face in her hands when she realized who I was and said she still had our picture in her office.

                         

I guess you could say we weren't your ordinary group. In the window of time between June 28, 2007, and June 28, 2008, we had each buried a baby. By the grace of God and the wonders of the internet, we found each other via the blogs we each kept to chronicle that time in our lives. Seven strangers sharing hotel rooms and coming together to worship together, we were sisters in so many ways. We were clinging to each other and desperate for the hope that could only come from God Himself. Beth's prayer that day was the most intense, bold, fierce, gut-wrenching cry for redemption and healing I had ever heard. The timing of it was undeniable, but the power of it was the Holy Spirit alone. A decade later, I can still hear the intensity in her voice when she asked God to make satan sorry he ever messed with us.

Has He ever.

Would you even believe me if I told you the Lord has blessed the seven brokenhearted women in the picture above with TWENTY-TWO new lives since then? He has. Through new birth, adoption, and everything in between, He has stopped at nothing to make satan mighty sorry he ever messed with us and we will not soon forget it. No one can deny it.

"Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen."
Ephesians 3:20-21

Now, don't get me wrong. The one and only place Beth Moore and I are on a first name basis is right here. I was just one in a long line of women waiting to thank her for what she had done that day last year in Houston. No big deal, really. The big deal has been in the way God has lead me, time and again, to the very places I need to be to receive the precise form of encouragement necessary to "just keep following" Him. You see, He and I aren't just on a first name basis, He is the very lover of my soul and I owe my all to Him. 

"Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart."
 Psalm 37:4

Coming here to this keyboard and delighting in Him these past several weeks has reminded me who I am, but more importantly, I am more aware than ever of who He is. Whatever I was missing before, He has given to me now, to the point of overflowing. I'm ready, so ready, to watch what Him do what He's going to do next. What an absolute honor and privilege to be able to share such powerful, life-saving, death-defying Truth with a whole world of folks so desperately in need.  

Right here in black permanent marker on my desk are the words I remember most clearly and hold most dearly from LIT. Beth spoke of a time when she was struggling alone in her living room, brokenhearted and unable to even find words to pray. As her heart cried out to God, her lips silently formed the words. Then, she said them a bit louder, and louder, and louder still until she was marching around her living room shouting them like a madwoman. 

Worthy is the lamb.

Worthy is the lamb.

WORTHY IS THE LAMB.

WORTHY IS THE LAMB!!!

I sat down tonight and thought I had no words for June 28. 

I do.

And I think my girl does, too.

WORTHY IS THE LAMB.

"Then I looked and I heard around the throne and the living creatures and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!" 


And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, saying, "To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!"

Revelation 5:11-13




Comments

  1. Wow! What a testimony. I too was at LIT, Sister - Worthy Is the Lamb!

    ReplyDelete

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