Tag Archives: healing

Know Your Enemy

24 Saturday Sep 2016

Posted by in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics

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Black-maned male African lion roaring, headshot, Africa

“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him.” 1 Peter 5:8, 9

The enemy is very busy with today’s Christians.

Busy getting friends to turn on each other because their opposing views become offensive and that offense becomes more valuable than the love they used to have for each other.

Busy getting us to one-up each other in sarcasm and rhetoric rather than outdo each other in love, mercy, grace, and kindness.

Busy getting Christians more concerned about issues than souls, more condemning of others than forgiving, more critical of others than prayerful, more determined to make a worldly point than testify of the goodness, faithfulness, and sovereignty of the Living God.

The enemy is very busy with today’s Christians.

Busy inciting fear, hatred, violence, injustice, retaliation, bitterness, separatism, vengeance, murder, and deception in the world, and busy getting Christians to join the ranks in picking worldly sides and buy into it from a worldly perspective, while we completely ignore his handiwork from the shadows.

He’s very busy there–in the shadows, recruiting the same souls for destruction that we should be turning to the Messiah. Recruiting us to rally for a candidate or a cause rather than look with compassion on the lost. Recruiting us to redefine “the lost” and to use our own judgment for determining who’s worthy of compassion and forgiveness. Recruiting us to look at skin or uniform color rather than the soul inside. Distracting our attention away from who and what we really wrestle against.

The enemy has convinced many of us to ignore that in our anger we should not sin, that the very sins we condemn others for we ourselves commit or have committed, that those sinning against us are in need of the same grace and repentance we have been given, that we are to love our neighbors and enemies, bless those who curse us, pray for those who persecute and spitefully use us, and not resist an evil person.

The enemy is busy getting us to live like desperate citizens of a lost world rather than confident children of the Almighty God. Children who have the wisdom that is from above, which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy, without partiality and without hypocrisy.

He’s busy getting us so angry that we become unforgiving, and in becoming unforgiving we forget how our own sins ripped through Christ’s flesh.

He is busy convincing us that God is silent. And that if God is silent we should be shouting. At the world. Not crying out to our Father. Together. United.

The enemy is very busy with today’s Christians. He is busy keeping us subjected to the influence of media and away from the instruction of God’s throne. He is busy trying to make us look and feel hostile, sarcastic, furious, forgotten, forsaken, indifferent, uncaring, hard-hearted, and hopeless. He is busy trying to make us look and act like him.

Resist him.

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” Ephesians 6:12

 

Who Are You?

01 Wednesday Jul 2015

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Mirror in desert

“Search me, O God and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
Psalm 139:23-24

I’ve had recent cause to suffer a great amount of indignation over a situation involving a loved one.

Though I’ll spare the details, I’ll share what I learned from the experience.

I think I know myself pretty well. When conflict arises I tend to avoid confrontation, pray about most things and ignore others. If particularly agitated I may vent, but otherwise I try to take the high road.

Not so in this case–in heart anyway. By the grace of God I kept my mouth shut, because there were a million things I wanted to say, a billion ways I wanted to react, few of them godly. I was furious–an emotion foreign enough to me that I smiled when I felt it.

I know. Crazy-lady scary.

The loved one is dear to me, but not someone I absolutely have to keep in my life. So great was the affront and pain it caused, I considered walking away completely.

Then I noticed my husband. He bore the offense with grace. Though it crushed his left cheek, he gave his right to be struck. He took it with dignity, and loved all the more.

When I married him I believed him a peacemaker. He lived up to that belief. The same situation showed me, however, things in my heart I didn’t know were there, and other things lacking that I thought were full.

And though I don’t like this trial–loathe it actually–I see its purpose, or at least the good that can come from it.

Some of us go through life thinking we’re Davids, men and women after God’s own heart. Then tragedy strikes and we learn our name is really Solomon. We started strong but don’t finish well.

Others think we have the faith of Sarah, who believed God’s word that she would conceive despite her old age. Yet offense appears and we find we have her vindictiveness instead.

And then there are the Sampsons who walk in God’s strength with boldness, but temptation comes and cuts them down where they stand.

I was vindictive Sarah that day, and many days afterwards. I wanted this person to suffer. I knew how to strike back, and I craved to do it. But in the end I relented.

Because, like Joseph, I fear the Lord.

God, in His goodness, is constantly shaping us, revealing the character of our hearts, giving us free will to do something about it.

Despite our temporary failures, we can still be Davids, Joshuas, Josephs, Hannahs, Ruths, Abigails.

We just have to choose to be.

Your turn: Who are you?

The Nearness of God

13 Saturday Dec 2014

Posted by in and Other Topics, Faith, Relationships

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The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit. -Psalm 34:18

nearness to God

This will be our first Christmas without my mother-in-law. For some it will be a first Christmas without a spouse, a sibling, a friend, or a child. For others it will be the second Christmas, or the third, maybe more.

Whatever your grief, know that God has not forgotten you. May His love surround you in such a way that you know without a doubt He is near.

Blessings and prayers from my family to yours.

~Tanara

Chevy Man Prayer

18 Thursday Jul 2013

Posted by in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics, Short Stories, Songs, and Poetry

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toolbox

He sat alone in the cab of his Chevy
Eyes burning, heart heavy
He rubbed on the arm that had just been used
His blood recycled, his spirit abused
He looked to the sky to the One he can’t see
Do You know? Do You hear? Some mercy for me?
It’s been only weeks and I know they said years
But Lord I can’t take this…Lord I can’t take this

That night at his home he pondered the morrow
More tragic sessions, unending sorrow
He felt the guilt of not having more hope
Of thinking of self, of failing to cope
Try as he might he could not reconcile
A lifetime of pain and poor health with this trial?
Of lacking in joy for indefinite time?
Oh Lord will You take this? Lord will You take this?

That very next day Chevy man got a call
Mr. M.? We’ve got news that’ll make your mouth fall
A donor’s been found, the organ’s en route
You’ve got to come put on this hospital suit
Transplant’s in the morning, and if all goes well
You’ll have quite a story of wonder to tell
His mouth fell indeed, his heart leapt in praise
Lord my God! Lord my God! Lord my God!

Sounds a bit far-fetched right? Only it isn’t.

Mr. M. is one Mr. McCauley–my dad.

He started dialysis this April. In June he was approved for placement on the transplant list. He was told to expect 5-7 years of waiting for an organ, if one ever came at all due to his rare blood type.

After a particularly horrific dialysis session in late June, he sat in his truck with the same heaviness of heart mentioned in the poem. He looked to the sky and asked for deliverance.

The very next day he got that call. And the day after that he was the recipient of a new organ. I was able to visit for a portion of his recovery and walk with him, talk with him, watch movies, laugh over memories, and just wow over what God had done.

In the words of King David: “I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand I shall not be moved.” Psalm 16:8

I will praise Him high and low, through good and bad, health and illness, practical and miracle.

Lord my God! Lord my God! Lord my God!

Week 1 Book 1: A Review of The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh

04 Saturday May 2013

Posted by in Book Reviews

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Cover.-Language-of-Flowers-pbk Throughout history flowers have been known for their beauty and fragrant scents. While commonly given as expressions of love and well wishes, their meanings became even more specific during the Victorian era. Dictionaries of the flower-to-emotion relationships were penned with care, but over time the language created for romantic expression faded to obscurity.

In Vanessa Diffenbaugh’s The Language of Flowers, the elegant art of floral communication resurfaces through the most unlikely of sources: eighteen-year-old Victoria Jones. The San Franciscan has just aged out of the foster care system and heads into the world with a chip on her shoulder and thorns in her heart.

She has no plans or ambitious dreams about her future, only a love for flowers and knowledge of their language that comes from a past failed adoption which haunts her. The details of that event remain hidden until the end of the book but one thing is clear: Victoria is so afraid of love and relationships, and so certain of her own lack of worth, she is determined to live as much of a life of isolation as possible.

But the need to survive forces her as far out of her shell as she believes herself willing to go, and she soon begins to use her connection with flowers to help others. She is given a fresh start at life in the company of people who want to make her part of theirs; but her past is like a jealous weed determined to prevent her from blossoming out of its muddy clutches.

A story of second chances, The Language of Flowers is beautifully written and emotionally draining. Victoria makes enough bad choices to tempt even the reader to give up on her; yet there is something about her personality shown through her first-person narration of the story that keeps one rooting for her.

I was torn between my compassion for her past and exasperation over how her current choices were negatively impacting her future. Sometimes I wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her, other times I wanted to cry for her. In the end, however, I couldn’t help but like her.

When a girl does things like snatch a few extra donuts out of the box because her date is eating them too fast, you just have to like her.

Sometimes the story slowed down a bit, and on more than one occasion I had to flip back through it to find the meaning of a flower previously mentioned. I discovered halfway through the book that there’s a flower dictionary at the end. It would’ve been helpful to put it after the table of contents or at least mention it somewhere in the beginning.

Overall, Diffenbaugh did a wonderful job with her debut The Language of Flowers. It is a heart-wrenching and realistic portrayal of the struggles of a broken human heart trying to push its way through the weighted soil of a hard life, and open its petals to the hope and promise of the future.

I gave it four out of five stars. This book will be included in the book giveaway at the end of the Seven Books in Seven Weeks series.

Click here for the list of the remaining books: Seven Books in Seven Weeks: The List .

When Morning Comes – A Poetic Version

06 Friday Jul 2012

Posted by in Short Stories, Songs, and Poetry

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Photo Courtesy of psxextreme.com

Night falls
As I knew it would
Bringing nothing good
Though I need the rest
Heart faint
Leery of the tide
Bent to steer this ride
Into sure duress

Tears break
Melancholy glass
But this too shall pass?
This unbridled storm?
Clouds form
Gone now are the stars
Like a song’s last bars
With its memories warm

Hushed call
Yes, I hear Your voice
You are still my choice
Though the darkness crowds
Unglued
Pieces fall abstract
Joy now dressed in black
Hope, its kin, in shrouds

Orange streaks
Bold as charging steeds
Beasts of noble deeds
Pierce my lidded slits
Warmth creeps
Cracks the lonely cold
Light from days of old
Shadowed guile submits

Pain flees
Chased by mending time
Faith and courage climb
Spirit carries on
Hushed call
Yes, I hear Your voice
You are still my choice
You have brought the dawn

Rejoice?
Night may come again
Fateful wounding friend
Bruising blows anon
Rejoice!
Lord, I hear Your voice
I have made my choice
With You comes the dawn

© 2012 Tanara McCauley

Psalm 30:5b “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”