"God, who gets invited to dinner at your place? How do we get on your guest list? "Walk straight, act right, tell the truth..." Psalm 15:1-2, The Message
I opened to this passage this morning, and my mind immediately summarized the passage as "Be Real." Ok God. I grew up with the King James Version, the 1611 one. It also says it beautifully:
"Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell in thy holy hill?" "He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart."
So yeah, Same. "Be Real." But my friends, yesterday was a little more REAL than I was prepared for. It started out well. God started speaking to me in the night about future writing and new doorways, and then confirmed it out of the blue through a friend. (Thanks God!") And then God rebuked me on something...
I would classify myself as a entry-level novice prepper. I firmly believe hard times are coming, and I had set aside a little extra food and supplies in preparation. (And you should too!) I had placed this in plastic tubs in the only readily available storage space in the house-- the shower in the office bathroom. Pull the shower curtain closed, and it's out of sight, out of mind, right? The other day, I had to shuffle some things, and when I returned, the tubs had fallen over sideways against the wall of the shower. In my quiet time, God showed me a vision of these tubs, knocked over against the wall, and immediately, I Samuel 5 came to mind:
"After the Philistines had captured the ark of God, they took it from Ebenerzer to Ashdod. Then they carried the ark into Dagon's temple and set it beside Dagon. When the people of Dagon rose early the next day, there was Dagon, fallen on his face on the ground before the ark of the LORD! They took Dagon and put him back in his place. But the following morning when they rose, there was Dagon, fallen on his face on the ground before the ark of the LORD! His head and his hands had been broken off and were lying on the threshold; only his body remained..."
God convicted me that I had started to embrace a poverty mentality and had started acting out of Fear rather than at His command. And then He spoke these words to me:
"More than Enough."
And then I opened at random to Mark 8, the feeding of the four thousand:
"During those days, another large crowd gathered. Since they had nothing to eat, Jesus called his disciples to him and said, "I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me for three days and have nothing to eat. If I send them home hungry, they will collapse on the way; because some of them have come a long distance." His disciples answered, "But where in this remote place can anyone get enough bread to feed them?" "How many loaves to do you have?" Jesus asked. "Seven," they replied. He told the crowd to sit down on the ground. When he had taken the seven loaves and given thanks, he broke them and and gave them to his disciples to set before the people, and they did so. They had a few small fish as well; he gave thanks for them also and told the disciples to distribute them. The people ate and were satisfied. Afterward the disciples picked up seven basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. About four thousand men were present..."
After I read this passage, God spoke Psalm 107:9 to my heart:
"For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things."
He was telling me to relax. That He would take care of me. That he was able to provide More Than Enough for my needs. And then He impressed on me that I should reorganize things so I could take better care of his beloved daughter by giving her the bathroom back so she can feel at home again. So I started the process yesterday in my downtime between fevers. Of my 10 item To-Do list yesterday, it was the ONLY thing I made progress on between fevers, but it was good for my marriage...
As I think about the Dagon passage in I Samuel, I notice that Dagon's head and hands were broken off. The ability to reason, and the ability to work. Yesterday at my jobsite, I had two important tasks. Critical tasks. I had to calculate some quantity of materials to order, and I had to finish building a catwalk over the water so my customer could get to his boat lift and play with his boat. These two things absolutely HAD to get done yesterday, and I was the only one who could do them.
But as soon as I started measuring and walking on the bare 2x10 joists of the catwalk, out over the water, I got dizzy. I mean, it was BAD! I made it back over the tightrope to the safety of the pierhead, but collapsed to the deck in tears because I was so very frightened. I have no fear of heights, but I was in serious danger if I persisted, so I went home and took my temperature. I had a significant fever, and by now I had terrible stomach issues. It felt like the flu, but without the aches and pains. I had so much stuff to do! But it wasn't happening. I called the Doctor and they explained that one of the cancer drugs they gave me during my last chemotherapy infusion can lead to Dizziness as a side affect, starting about five days out (right on time!) and can last 5-7 days. Holy crap!!! How am I going to work???
Later in the afternoon, I tried again. This time to do my materials calculations. I didn't make it five minutes before the stomach issues returned with about 20 seconds warning. I headed toward the bathroom up the hill and involuntarily let out the biggest fart of my life-- I mean epic whoopee cushion level of flatulence. No, make that TWO whoopee cushions... And my teenage son had the good grace not to comment. Which surprised me actually. Maybe he IS learning some maturity? I was sure I had soiled my underwear, but God preserved me to the bathroom, so thank you God for small mercies!
There was no way I was able to keep working on my calculations, so I headed to the bank to deal with stuff. While waiting with the teller, I totally lost it. I was crying and wailing, hanging on the counter, bending over at the waist because I didn't have the strength to stand. Right there in the bank lobby, in front of a bunch of strangers! I mean, I am used to crying in church, but those people KNOW me! It was horrible. And the stupid thing was, nothing was wrong! There was no crisis! Yet here I am wailing like I had just lost a loved one, but it was just chemistry. Just the chemicals working their way through my system.
I just feel... off. Bloated, uncomfortable, and my stool is black and scary looking. I weigh eleven pounds more than I did at the start of the last round of chemo a week ago, and that's AFTER the all-day involuntary colon cleanse yesterday. But that's how it is. I had so much to do yesterday, but like Dagon, God cut off my head and my hands. He took away my ability yesterday to do mental work- the estimating, and the physical work- the carpentry, because he wanted my attention. He wanted me to trust him. Because his provision for me and my family is NOT AT ALL predicated on my own personal ability to do work. Because provision is on HIM, not on me. That's why he had me read about the feeding of the 4,000, and showed me the broken idol in my shower. Thanks God.
Today is a brand new day. May God show each of us stuff to change. Stuff we need to Trust him on.
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