Lori Stanley Roeleveld's Blog, page 42

When You Become a Medical Mystery (Interview with a Giant-Killer #3)

I am rereading the Gospel of Mark as I frequently do, and have been impressed with Jesus’ show of authority over all things during His ministry on earth. Now, in these interviews with giant-killers, we are reading testimonies that He continues to exercise that authority. Interview #1 demonstrated His authority over sin. Interview #2 demonstrated His authority over violent abuse. In this week’s interview, we read of His authority over illness. Aaron Gansky is a dear friend – one of those people I instantly knew was a kindred spirit and would be my friend for life. I read his short novel, The Bargain, three years ago and I still think about at least once a month. It was that powerful. Here is Aaron’s giant story:

Describe the giant in your life and how you overcame:

It came spinning, setting the whole world in unceasing motion. This was more than simple dizziness or vertigo. It was a nauseating momentum that put me at the center of a spinning galaxy. Here I was, shortly after our youth group meeting, and I couldn’t stand up, couldn’t even sit up without falling over. I lay down, hoping the spinning would stop, but it didn’t. It intensified.

That’s when I lost my strength. Once the spinning subsided, I couldn’t walk on my own power. I had to lean against walls, have people support me, as if I’d run three consecutive marathons. I’d never experienced a weakness, a fatigue of this sort, and I was only twenty at the time.

Doctors initially diagnosed it as a vasovagal syncope response, but the weakness persisted far too long. They tested me for MS, for Guillain-Barre, for hyperkalemia and hypokalemia, for nearly every imaginable neurological disease. I had to quit my job and drop out of college. I had weekly appointments for different tests, including spinal taps and EMC (both of which is particularly painful, by the way). They took enough blood from me over the next few months to fill a swimming pool. My phlebotomist knew me by name.

The worst part of this giant was the unknown. Each test came back negative. The best they could do was to name the symptom rather than the cause. Periodic paralysis.

Months later, with no real explanation, I returned to normal health. From that point forward, I’ve had the periodic paralysis flare up now and again. It’s frustrating and embarrassing, but manageable. Rather than complaining or giving up, however, I persevered. I knew it would be a temporary condition. I made choices to change career fields so I could continue to work, even if I had another incident. The down time really helped me focus on my writing. I developed skills during those months that serve me to this day. God’s grace is sufficient for me. 

How have any of these traits mentioned in 2 Peter 1:1-10 played a role in slaying your giant – faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, steadfastness, godliness, brotherly affection, love:

Of the listed traits, I relied most heavily on my faith and steadfastness. I knew it was a temporary condition, though I had no reason to believe that. Medical science, at the time, believed my condition would persist, even worsen. But, as I continued to rely on God in my weakness, He made his strength known through me. My faith allowed me to remain steadfast in my relationship with Him, helped me keep my eye on the prize, so to speak. I’d determined, if the condition were permanent, I would continue to serve God in any way I could. But I heard His gentle whisper, His promise that the condition was temporary. So I focused on Paul’s “thorn in the flesh,” and relied on God’s grace to heal me or to sustain me.

Was there a particular Bible verse or passage that was valuable to you in slaying this giant?

I kept coming back to 2 Corinthians 12:9 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I had never been weaker, and so never experienced God’s grace to the extent I did in those months. 

How did other Christians play a role in your giant slaying?

My parents supported me throughout all my tests, my sisters and friends, too. I was surrounded by so many believers who kept me continually lifted before God in prayer. They prayed with me and for me. They helped me maintain my sense of humor and positive outlook. They kept my spirits lifted, even in my periods of doubt.

What about you, loved ones? I know I’ve experienced both periods of undiagnosed illness and all that comes with it as well as healing from the Lord. In the years when I was undiagnosed and unhealed, I relied on the Lord in ways that still serve me now. How have you endured times like this and if you’re undergoing a time like this now, how can we here at the blog pray for you?

About Aaron Gansky: In addition to being a loving father and husband, Aaron Gansky is an award-winning novelist, teacher, and podcast host. In 2009, he earned his M.F.A in Fiction at the prestigious Antioch University of Los Angeles, one of the top five low-residency writing schools in the nation. Prior to that, he attained his Bachelor of Arts degree in English with an emphasis in Creative Writing from California State University of San Bernardino, where he studied, in part, under Bret Anthony Johnston, now the Director of Creative Writing at Harvard University.

His first novel The Bargain (2013, Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas) was a finalist for the Selah Award for debut novel. Two years later, The Book of Things to Come (2015, Brimstone Fiction), the first book in his Hand of Adonai YA Fantasy series, won the Selah Award for YA Fiction. He has written two books on the craft of fiction; Firsts in Fiction: First Lines and Write to Be Heard (with Diane Sherlock). To find out more about his books, click here.

When You Become a Medical Mystery (Interview with a Giant-Killer #3) https://t.co/wP8A9VgmiJ #Aarongansky #TopplingGiants #amwriting #endure

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) September 1, 2016

Will I Be Alone at the Lunch Table? (Thank You, Tosca Lee)

Will I be alone at the lunch table?

Remember wondering that? As the photos of children returning to school or jumping on the bus for the first time flit across my Facebook feed, the memories flood back.

I loved school. Learning was a joyful and effortless pursuit for me. Books were my haven, writing my gift, and I understood math at least long enough to pass a test. New school shoes, paper bag book covers, and shiny unblemished notebooks were like Christmas stockings and Easter egg baskets.

But also, through those years, I was alone all the time. Even surrounded by classmates. Even on a busy playground. Even in a cafeteria full of peers. I was always alone.

There were countless reasons for it. Reasons I understand with the distance of years. Explanations that have something to do with me, something to do with them, and something to do with all human nature. Some kids just don’t fit in. Some kids don’t have a regular crowd in the lunchroom. Ever.

I hated it then. Took it on myself like a deformity. Wore it like a scarlet letter or a scar. Now, I have a different view.

Loneliness was my desert, like where Moses fled or where John the Baptist wandered. It was my shipwreck, like Paul endured three times. It was my prison cell, like Joseph experienced after his brothers tossed him in a hole and sold him to slavers. It was my caves in the hills like David when he fled from Saul. It’s the place I didn’t want to be. The long, hot, dune of my childhood and adolescence that I’d never have chosen but where God met me, fed me, defined me, refined me.

In many ways, the desert remains with me, even into adulthood, and informs who I have become. I use the phrase without thinking. All the time in unfamiliar social situations – Who will I sit with at the lunch table? In large groups, out of habit, I take a seat alone. People assume I’m a little stuck up when really it’s still my reflex that someone already seated is probably saving that place for someone else – not me.

For too many years, that loneliness was an open wound. Driving me to make bad decisions just to avoid its return. Creeping into my personality in ugly ways – manipulation, insecurity, clingy-ness, people-pleasing, or constant fear. The evil one used variations of the question Who will sit with you at the lunch table to taunt, to mock, and to cow me away from inhabiting my freedom in Christ. But, greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world. Jesus took on the desert within me, unafraid, and gently (okay, sometimes not so gently) made me face it with Him.

God didn’t remove my desert but He transformed it into a place with springs of living water. I’m stronger for having wandered in that desert remembering it is where I heard the voice of God and learned to follow His footsteps through the burning sand. When loneliness returns, as it does in every life, I feel that initial lunchroom fear but then I remember – Jesus is here. When rejections come, as they do for us all, I’m instantly that lonely girl wondering if anyone else will let me in. But, then He reminds me, I belong to Him, with Him, beside Him, and have been adopted into His vast family. When I meet others who are lonely, who don’t belong, who eat alone, or watch the crowds around them knowing they’re not invited, I speak their language. I hear their heartbeats. And I have more than just my own presence to offer – I have the presence of the One who will never leave them – if they are willing to receive Him.

This summer I attended a writer’s conference where I didn’t know most of the others there. Initially, I felt the panic rise as I faced the large conference hall alone but I heard Jesus beckoning me to take the seat He’d saved me. The speaker asked us a series of questions, deeply personal reflections intended to help us mine the caverns of our lives for universal truths woven into our own stories. I was answering easily until one question sucker punched me in the center of my soul: When did you feel most misunderstood?

I put my pen down on the table and stared, stunned. I remembered being alone in a thousand lunchrooms. On dozens of playgrounds or dances or parties. Alone on the bus. Alone at home.  Alone in hundreds of conversations trying to explain why I felt so deeply, so passionately about Jesus even at age six, eight, ten, fourteen. I remember the looks. No one understood.

And sitting there I realized I’d grieved that desert so desperately, I was pierced so intensely with that inability to make them understand – that it drove me to learn to communicate about Christ.

My sense of being alone with this knowledge of God, this desolate place, drove me to develop a language to explain what I was reading in the Bible, to write words that would inspire others to see God, to help them want to follow Jesus, to encourage them to go deeper on the adventure with Him – so that I would no longer be alone.

And I sat in amazement that God not only met me in the desert, accompanied me through the desert, forged our relationship in the desert, and transformed my desert into springs of living water – He even used my desert as a means to bless others with Himself.

The question remains with me to this day – even at fifty-five – who will sit with me in the lunchroom – but when I hear it, I’m no longer afraid (for long). Where will it lead us now, Lord? This desert place, this loneliness, that once was the prison Satan thought would contain me – where will it take us now? And I inhale deeply of the freedom that is mine in Christ, take a long gulp of living water and face the desert unafraid.

When have you experienced the power of Christ to transform your desert into a spring of living water? What desert are you walking through today that you don’t have to face alone?

Will I Be Alone at the Lunch Table (Thank You, @ToscaLee) https://t.co/3ZaJIWHGmJ transforming our desert places #amwriting #healing #Faith

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) August 30, 2016

Can We Heal a Soul with Our Applause?

Can we be healed by majority rule?

If enough people accept me, say that they love me, applaud for me, and welcome me into their hearts, will that fill the empty space inside and make me whole?

Is life and identity truly best informed by a scene from Peter Pan where the audience saves Tinkerbelle with their handclaps and not by the true story of creation, fall, and redemption found in Jesus Christ?

Can we be “liked,” “followed,” “downloaded,” and “viewed” into mental, physical, and spiritual healing?

I have a weakness for shows like America’s Got Talent or The Voice and I share this weakness with my dad. Every season we watch one of them together and follow our favorites through to the finals, even sometimes voting on Twitter or Google for the underdogs we think deserve a break. But, as much as I enjoy these productions, I’m disturbed by a trend I hear coming from the contestants and the judges. A trend I believe is reflective of our society as a whole.

It’s part of the drama of the competition for the show to create a video that tells a contestant’s story – carefully choosing what is most dramatic and most likely to create compassion or interest for them with the audience. Where have they struggled? Have they endured a loss, a disease, or a disability? Are they an unlikely vehicle for a great, formerly hidden talent? As a writer, I appreciate why certain stories rise to the top with producers and audiences alike.

Still, the most disturbing trend I’m witnessing is the story of contestants who have spent a lifetime feeling like rejected, unaccepted, bullied outsiders who will never find their place in this world. Time and again, when their talent shines and the audience rises to their feet, one of the judges will say, “Now you can tell all those people who hated you that America loves you.” Or “Even though your family threw you out, our family here has taken you in!” Or “All these years you’ve been wondering who you are and now you know, you’re a star!”

The contestant will respond, overwhelmed with tears and the acceptance of the crowd, with words like “Finally, I feel like I’m home!” or “Now, I know where I belong – right here.” Or “This is the moment I’ve waited for all my life.” In follow up interviews with these fortunate, favored individuals, the interviewer will refer to the numbers “How does it feel to have X number of views on Youtube, downloads on Itunes, followers on Twitter, likes on Facebook?” and the contestant lets the audience know he or she feels their love.

And the audience, well we, feel powerful and effective. Our applause has healed a human soul. By clicking a box on our laptops or phones, we’ve given a lost soul an identity. For a 99 cent download, we’ve laid hands on a worthy heart and they walked away whole.

That’s intoxicating but it’s a lie.

I get it, I do. I have nothing against moments of triumph. Moments where we glimpse our purpose. Moments of award, applause, and approval by a crowd can be pivotal for any of us struggling to find our calling. They can be powerful confirmations that we’ve found our sweet spot and strong encouragement that we’re headed in the right direction.  Nothing wrong with that.

Unless, we rely on the crowd to tell us who we are. Unless we depend on that applause for direction. Unless we place all our hope for healing on approval from the masses. Because we don’t really live on stage and if we only feel loved, whole, and at home when the spotlight shines in our favor, then we’re no better than Pinocchio at the start of his story, relying on others pulling our strings to bring us to life. Our search should always be the pursuit of becoming a “real boy.”

The need is real. We’re all hurting for it. We’re hard-wired to need love, identity, purpose, calling, acceptance, family, and home. It’s when we rely on the fickle crowd as if we’re gladiators at the Colosseum, our lives dependent on the thumbs up of the masses, that we become wooden puppet versions of our flesh and blood selves. It’s not that it isn’t something, it’s that it’s not enough. It’s like taken a Tylenol to cure cancer – it may dull the pain of dying but you’re still headed in the wrong direction. Why settle for a painkiller when we can have the cure?

Our true identity, that which we were created to inhabit, remains true even when the crowd walks away, even when they boo or give us the thumbs down, even when they don’t want to hear our song. To be found in Christ means to know our real selves, to be embraced by a forever family, to know we are already home.

John says this: “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.” I John 3:1-2 (ESV)

Jesus suffered the ultimate rejection. “He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.” John 1:10-11 (ESV) When the spotlight on His ministry took a dark turn, He didn’t lose His way because it wasn’t the crowd that made Him, defined Him, or gave Him life. Even on the cross, He knew who He was, where He came from, and where He was going.

And if He is the place we turn for healing, if His is the only applause we seek, if He is the face we search for in the crowd, we will own that wholeness and certainty, too. Don’t settle for a painkiller when you can be healed. Don’t settle for a furlough from prison when you can be free forever. Don’t be a puppet when you can be real. Don’t settle for the applause of this world when you can receive eternal acceptance.

And if we truly love those who are hurting in this life, let’s offer them more than our applause. Let’s be sure we introduce them to Jesus.

Can We Heal a Soul with Our Applause? https://t.co/GhHQDVOPMj settling for a pain-killer when we need the cure #AGT #amwriting #healing

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) August 28, 2016

Some Giants Die Slowly (Interview with a Giant-Killer #2)

Dear Reader, I’m honored to bring you today’s interview with Karen R. It’s a powerful testimony to the love of Christ that is stronger than death. I do want to warn any readers who experienced childhood trauma that Karen tells her story using frank and direct words. If you’re someone whose memories may be triggered by this, proceed reading with caution and in the arms of the Holy Spirit but know that what you will read is that God triumphs over all evil. Thank you, Karen, for bravely sharing your story.

Some Giants Die Slowly

Describe the giant in your life and how you overcame:

My giant was fear, of both God and people.

I experienced a vicious assault as a child by a neighbor who told me, “I’m punishing you because God said you’re a bad girl.” Fear marked my life from then on. I used food, drugs, alcohol, and anything else I could think of to hide. As an adult, I locked myself inside my home. At times, I needed someone to hold my hand just to cross the street. Alarm bells screeched any time a man approached me.

I was raised in church, but unfortunately, my short encounter with the neighbor left a deeper imprint than eighteen years of Sunday services. Like so many others, my experiences and resulting dysfunctions only led me into more fearful situations.

I was 30 before I came back to Jesus. Obviously, we had some work to do. I had decided God was a better master than others I’d given control to, and was comfortable with that. God had other plans. God wasn’t willing to be just another thug in my life, a little nicer than the last. He wasn’t satisfied with my attempts to keep Him happy so He wouldn’t turn on me like the others. God wasn’t willing for our relationship to be rooted in fear. So He began taking me on a journey. He showed me all my fearful responses to Him (and others) came from that lie impressed upon my young heart.

And He wanted to make a new impression.

I learned to find His presence in worship. And every night, as He came near, I simply wept. I wanted a relationship with God so badly, yet was so afraid. He was incredibly patient with me. It still melts my heart to think about it. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Eventually, the fear eased and I began trusting God more than I was afraid.

Now I am madly in love with my Jesus. Some might be uncomfortable with that type of language used with God. But it’s this love, mine for Him and Him for me, that makes fearless. I know people who have been freed from fears instantly, or at least quickly. But I believe there was a reason my “giant” needed to die slowly. I had learned my fear through tangible, visceral experience. In His infinite wisdom, my Father knew I needed new experiences to wash away the memories of the old.

Describe how any of these traits mentioned in 2 Peter 1:1-10 played a role in slaying your giant – faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, steadfastness, godliness, brotherly affection, love:

Love rescued me. My view of love was so twisted and perverted, it looked nothing like God – yet it was the only scope I had to view Him through. I’ll never forget one encounter I had with God. While praying about relationships I’d had, pretty bad ones, He showed me I was relating to Him the way I’d learned to relate to those who hurt me. I “looked” at Him as we talked about it. God had tears streaming down His face. It absolutely wrecked my heart. This was love I knew nothing about.

Another time I was very convicted. I cried out, asking God to crush my heart for what mattered to Him. He replied, “I’m going to crush you with love.” And that’s what He’s done. Over and over, even with my worst mistakes, He’s met me with love. It’s His steady, secure, SAFE love that has demolished the fear.

Was there a particular Bible verse or passage that was valuable to you in slaying this giant?

Ezekiel 16:6-14

How did other Christians play a role in your giant slaying?

Meeting safe Christian men made a big difference in my life. I had a wonderful father, but my bad experiences with other males somehow outweighed the positive ones. So after I met Jesus, I observed the men at church with their families and in worship and prayer. By watching them, I learned authority and love can co-exist. In short, watching them taught me how God operates. I’ve also had some “spiritual parents” take me under their wings. They’ve prayed with me, modeled healthy relationships, and simply loved me. It’s really helped.

I have read this novel about a man who also felt his life was ruined by a single act of violence but who undergoes a journey of healing that leads him to his true self in Christ. God healed many of my old wounds in the course of reading this novel written by a truly godly friend.

**It’s terrible that an act of violence can enter into our lives at anytime, even the lives of children or believers, but God is the one who can take on the giant of the aftermath of violence and come out the victor, restoring us to wholeness. Two new books you may find helpful if you’re looking for healing in this area are one non-fiction and one fiction:

I haven’t read this yet but I trust those who have recommended and reviewed it. It’s non-fiction and is the story of a young Christian woman who felt her life was ruined by an act of violence but came to find that God was greater than the ruin.

Some Giants Die Slowly https://t.co/rqeSBIxt6N Interview with a Giant-Killer 2 #overcomingfear #amwriting #Redemption

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) August 25, 2016

 

I Will Never Trust Another Hummingbird

A tiny hummingbird hovered at the hanging pot of million bells on my porch and I mention it was tiny because it was remarkably small, even for the species. My husband and I watched it dip its proboscis down the throat of the pink flowers, its wings fluttering like a Southern belle’s eyelashes as it darted from bloom to bloom.

After several minutes watching the creature, feeling fortunate it was remaining in sight so long, we both tipped our heads to the right.

“Does that seem off?” my husband asked.

“The shape isn’t quite right, is it?” I responded as I typed in a quick search on my phone for “mini hummingbird.”

“Could it be a baby?” he asked.

“It’s so odd,” I replied waiting for the search to populate. “Something about the shape is very like a . . . moth.” Suddenly, on-line images provided an answer to our confusion. “It’s a hummingbird moth. It resembles a hummingbird and behaves much like one but it’s an insect, the adult form of a tomato hornworm.”

All at once, what seemed like a lovely, summery occurrence, a tiny hummingbird enjoying our porch flowers, took on an ick factor as I pondered the beast before me – a moth as big as a bird, a poser, a counterfeit, a fraud. While the idea of a tiny bird fills me with the wonder, the notion of a giant insect horrifies me – especially when I consider it originated as a hornworm – those squat, juicy tomato terrorists that invade my summer garden.

Isn’t it concerning that something nearly like something else can be so far from being the thing it resembles? Like sugar and salt. Nickels and slugs. Toothpaste and diaper cream. Diamonds and glass. I found the hummingbird moth strangely unsettling and I’m not sure I’ll ever trust a hummingbird again.

Jesus warned us that there would be false teachers and false prophets among us. People who seem like the real deal, the genuine article, offering something nearly like truth and love but proving counterfeit in the end. They’ll lead some people astray and dishearten others to the point of letting their love grow cold. Terrorist worms with the all the markings and behaviors of believers but in the end, a different being altogether.

Now, there are varieties of hummingbirds out there. I’ll bet there are even some hummingbirds that don’t get along with others; but they remain hummingbirds. The hummingbird moth, however, is a different sort of creature altogether. Not everyone who seems off is a fraud. Sometimes, genuine believers in Christ get mixed up, or a little lost, or confused, they disagree, or we just don’t click, but they’re still family, they’re still creatures in the same flock with the same shepherd. In the midst of conflict, it’s wise to remember that emotions can create the illusion that something is amiss that isn’t. Still, the Bible warns there are people who look like believers, talk like believers, and pose as believers who are from a completely different sheep pen.

So, what do we do?

Well, sometimes, we get hurt. It would be wonderful, wouldn’t it, if I could give you four easy steps for identifying a fake Christian? The truth is that people committed to deceit will sometimes win out this side of glory. We aren’t home yet. We still reside on an outpost of eternity and there are real dangers here. The Bible says that some will be led astray. When Jesus announced to the apostles there was a betrayer in their midst – they didn’t know which one it was. Jesus knew but trusted His Father and His Father proved triumphant. We can trust Him, too, even with our deep wounds.

My husband and I were nearly fooled by the hummingbird moth but we had some things in our favor. First, we’ve watched countless hummingbirds so we know what the real deal looks like. Believers should cultivate deep friendships with other Christians and know, from experience, what the genuine article looks, acts, and sounds like.

Second (and third), we trusted our hunch that something wasn’t right and checked it with a reliable source – photos and articles on hummingbirds. The Holy Spirit often sends us promptings when we hear a false teaching or encounter a pretender. Feelings can be fickle so it’s good we have a reliable source for information about the truth of Christ. Every believer should know God’s Word as well as that believer can know it and make a habit of sitting under wise, godly teaching.

Fourth, (and this has nothing to do with hummingbirds), we should put into practice what we know from God’s Word, cultivate a habit of obedience, a practice that should increase our familiarity with the truth and with the voice of our Shepherd, all the better for us to distinguish it from a false prophet.

God calls us to love one another and to abandon fear. That can be challenging in a world the produces counterfeit Christians but with Jesus, nothing is impossible. As we make a habit of spending time in the presence of authentic Christians, of surrounding ourselves with sound, worthy teachers, and of testing the prophets according the Word of God, we’ll be more likely to spot a fraud.

I know the pain of being fooled. Right now, I suspect every hummingbird I see. But, Jesus promises never to leave me nor forsake me, He won’t give me up to some creature that sprang from a spiritual hornworm.

And remember, He created both the hummingbird and the moth – their existence is His business and He can always tell them apart. Jesus’ love frees me to trust hummingbirds even after I’ve encountered an insect masquerading as one. His real love is more powerful than any fraud.

I will never trust another hummingbird https://t.co/JRFRmYClL8 we live in a dangerous world but there’s an answer #amwriting#falseteachers

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) August 23, 2016

I’d love to hear what verses help you know the truth from the false. If you’d like to leave a comment but are reading this in email, CLICK HERE

Why Some Christians Enjoy Safety, Health, and Peace

God is never afraid.

He doesn’t fear Somalian warlords, the Zika virus, suicide bombers, desert assassins, inner-city riots, California wildfires, Louisiana floods, lone gunmen, or cancer. The presence of these varying forms of violence, whether manmade, natural, or biological, doesn’t prevent the God of the Universe from being present. It doesn’t chase Him out. He doesn’t exit the building. Even in places where every believer has been shot dead or raped into silence, God can enter in and He often does this on the incense of His people’s prayers.

I didn’t grow up in churches that celebrated worship with incense but I love in Revelation that God gives us a glimpse into the inner workings of things beyond our comprehension. “And another angel came and stood at the altar with a golden censer, and he was given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar before the throne, and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel. Then the angel took the censer and filled it with fire from the altar and threw it on the earth, and there were peals of thunder, rumblings, flashes of lightning, and an earthquake.” Revelation 8:3-5 (ESV)

If you’ve ever had a grease fire in your kitchen or a furnace fire, you know that smoke and soot penetrate places that stretch the imagination. One pan of grease, one blast from a sooty furnace, and homeowners hire specialized teams to clean because smoke will have compromised everything in their homes – crawling inside cupboards, between plates stacked on one another, into closets, and in every crevice of furnishings, every fold of cloth.

This scene in heaven is holy and terrifying but it says that God receives our prayers, mixes them with heavenly incense, and puts them to work in places we may never go but He can. And it’s no sprinkle of fairy dust but a thundering, rumbling, flashing, earthshaking ordeal.

We are entering into wild times on this planet. There have been other wild times – other ages, centuries, marked with rampant violence and sweeping changes but these are the times we face. He has designated us and designed us for this but it’s good to remember that God is never afraid.

This week I read and re-read the first chapter of Mark and I remembered that our God is not tame. We’ve grown so accustomed to the domesticated face of the church that we can come to imagine God as a sort of deified Clark Kent. We falsely imagine His superpower is a supernatural niceness the world calls love but really that’s a diluted version of the actual substance Jesus embodied – a love that is stronger than death.

The gospel of Mark opens with John, a strange and unruly character emerging from the wilderness, proclaiming the not nice message that people need to repent and receive forgiveness for being such sinners. Jesus enters into the waters to be baptized by this wild man and the heavens tear open. The heavens tear open and a voice calls out from them. Then, this Jesus, He, too, takes off for the wilderness where He dialogs with the devil, dwells with wild animals, and receives comfort from angels. Next thing we know, the wild prophet is thrown in jail, and Jesus begins delivering the not nice message that got John into trouble with the crown.

Are you following me? The beginning of Jesus’ ministry was not the stuff of flannel graphs. If it had happened in these times, we’d be following it by livecam on CNN and wondering when the authorities were going to regain control. Jesus proves He isn’t afraid of upsetting things. He immediately calls men to leave their jobs, their family businesses, and follow Him. He enters the synagogue and teaches with authority. Demons confront him – DEMONS CONFRONT HIM – and He makes them stand down. He sees illness and disease and commands it to cease. He demonstrates He is not afraid of those things that make us wet our pants.

The crowds grow but Jesus draws away to a desolate place to pray. He isn’t afraid of losing the crowd. He isn’t afraid of not pleasing them. He isn’t afraid of desolate places, in fact, by the end of the chapter we learn that’s where He takes up His preaching – in desolate places. This was no Clark Kent. This wasn’t even Superman. This is a living God with such a new Way, such a new gospel – IT’S STILL NEW TODAY.

There are many fearful things happening in our world  – in our personal worlds and in the greater community. Our God is not afraid and He has made His dwelling place within each of us who follow Him. We are not helpless. Of course, as to our humanity, we are frail, faltering, fragile, and frankly, we die easily. If I faced a Somalian warlord, a wall of fire heading for my home, or cancer, fear is exactly what I would feel.

Which is precisely why God has afforded some of His people a place of safety from these things so that we might pray for the rest. It’s not an accident; it’s an assignment.

And those prayers are not without effect. His angels mix them with incense and they become a combustible force on this planet that can invade cities or cells under siege. We do not pray to move the hands of God but to push back the forces of darkness from the places He desires to enter in.

Don’t sit in your home and quake with fear, barricading your door lest you be next. Join the battle being waged in heavenly places, the invisible, thankless work of the saints, and add your prayers to the censer of our God who is a consuming fire.

We are entering wild times but we serve the God who created the wilderness, who owns thunder and lightning, who commands fire. He is not afraid.

Why some Christians enjoy safety, health, and peace. https://t.co/AbmgaufEBZ you were wondering, too, weren’t you? #amwriting#fearofgod

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) August 20, 2016

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Interview with a Giant-Killer: Meet J.J. Johnson

Describe the giant in your life and how you overcame:

My story is a simple one. I never tried in school. I just didn’t care. I was busy playing in a punk band and trying to write songs. That was the plan. A record deal, a big tour, signing posters, and t-shirts- I had an epic life all planned out.

When the time for high school graduation came- I walked in the ceremony. I did the entire cap and gown thing. It was the start of something new. Then I discovered the truth. I didn’t graduate. I was a full credit short and my GPA was a joke.

In the few days that followed, I wasn’t sure what to do. I was embarrassed. I felt like a failure. I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. I started researching how to get my GED. I was certain I would spend the rest of my life working in the Toilet Paper factory. Fortunately, God had different plans.

Let me state right off- I don’t subscribe to the prosperity gospel. But, I think when God works in our lives- and blesses us- then we should celebrate, share, and challenge others to live out a life of faith and trust in Him as well.

It was during this time, when I wanted to quit and walk away, when I wanted to give up and just forget everything, that God brought a unique family into my life. They took me under their wing. Helped mold a part of me. The name of this family was: The Fosters. They were a family of Chris’s. (Kris, Christine, Christopher, Kristen, Kristian, and Krisha.) They helped me apply for a correspondence course through the University of Oklahoma in order to get that last credit. And on Halloween night of 1997, I got my High School diploma.

That was the first step in a long, long, journey. I had a 1.7 GPA. I barely got into our local community college. Even after I did, I had to take remedial classes before moving on to actual college level courses. I maintained a 4.0 that first semester. Transferred to Oklahoma Baptist University where I studied Biblical Theology and Sociology. Today I have moved up my company into an upper management role as VP of Marketing.

I have no idea why things worked out for me. I have no idea why God opened doors that should have always remained shut. I have no idea why this family showed enough love to help me through a tough time. I have no idea. But I look back now and see God’s sovereign hand through it all.

The point is- God has plans for each of us. Whether it is experiencing the pits of poverty, or giving away millions. The hope is that we realize- We exist to always Glorify Him. He is the author and creator of all things. He opens doors- He shuts them. He is in heaven- And He does whatever he pleases. 

Describe how any of these traits mentioned in 2 Peter 1:1-10 played a role in slaying your giant – faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, steadfastness, godliness, brotherly affection, love:

The most difficult part for me was faith: How could I believe that God had plans for my life, after I had failed, after I had given up and stop trusting him. Over time, I learned to let go and trust Him through this process. During that year, I grew more in my relationship with God than I ever had. I dove in deep into His word, searching for deep truths like priceless treasures. I stopped being angry, and I learn to both love people, and let people love me. 

Was there a particular Bible verse or passage that was valuable to you in slaying this giant?

Acts chapter 3– I love the story of Peter and John going to pray in the temple and coming across a lame man who was carried there from birth to beg. The Bible says that the man “Looked at them, expecting to receive something. Then Peter said- Silver or Gold we do not have. But we do have, in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise and walk. And immediately the man went with them into the temple and started jumping and praising God. And the people recognized him as the same man…”  That last part always stung for me. Here was a man they all recognized- And not one had ever stopped to share the Gospel. Sure it was a Jewish temple- But I have to believe that if Peter and John were there, other believers were there. And not one had stopped.

This family wasn’t the only family that knew about my situation- They were just the family that stopped. I don’t begrudge those that didn’t. I believe strongly this was all God’s plan. But, I decided in that moment, during that time- I didn’t want to be someone that simple passed by one in need.

How did other Christians play a role in your giant slaying?

My grandmother- She didn’t know the details of what was going on, but I spent a lot of time with her that summer. I remember watching her do dishes in the sink, and sing her hymns quietly to herself while doing so. Seeing that always showed me how much she loved God. How much He had blessed her with a simple life of contentment. She may not have done extraordinary things- But she made an impact on my life.

Lori’s note: I met JJ recently and I’ve started following his writing to see what else God has in store for him. Many of us have had to slay the giant of an early failure but if we turn it over to Jesus, nothing is wasted. Thank God for JJ’s faith and the faith he witnessed in the family that stopped and in his grandmother. The power we have, in Christ, to participate in one another’s healing is astounding.

If you have a story of a time you slayed a giant, email me at lorisroel@gmail.com and I’ll send you an interview with a giant-slayer to complete! Let your words encourage others.

Interview with a Giant-Killer: Meet J.J.Johnson https://t.co/gOcMf2ZKK4#giantkiller#jesusandthebeanstalk#amwriting#faith

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) August 18, 2016

If J.J’s story has encouraged you, let him know. Leave a comment HERE.

The Secret You’ll Hate Me for Telling You

I’ve been thinking about the sacrifices of persecuted Christians in other countries you know, in between television shows and restaurant outings.

In wondering about them and what makes them capable of laying down their lives, I’ve also wondered (during breaks from social media and watching the latest Youtube video) what gets in our way that we don’t appear to have the capacity to lay down our daily “to do” list, never mind our lives.

And I was reminded of the seventh degree black belt who owned the karate school where I earned my first degree. One day, he instructed us to do one hundred pushups and several people moaned. (one of them may have been me) Another complained, “Oh sure, one hundred pushups is easy for you. They’ll never be easy for me.”

In that moment, the sensei stopped the class, clearly annoyed. “Do you know why they’ll never be easy for you? Because you want it to be easy. You don’t put in the work. You’re not faithful in the small things. One hundred pushups are easy for me but that’s because I work at pushups every day – before most of you are out of bed. No excuses. No complaining. No whining. And I have worked at a thousand other small disciplines against which you rebel. This will never be easy for you because you want it to be easy. But if you want to be able to do what I do, you can start here with one hundred pushups.”

Too many of us received the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ with eagerness but with an attitude that says, “Wow, this is great! Thanks. This will really enhance my life and help me achieve my goals.” While others receive the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ with grateful tears and an attitude that says, “My Lord gave up His very life for me so I will spend the rest of my life showing Him my love and gratitude through obedience.”

To obey is better than sacrifice.

Since this is true, we would do well to focus on obedience and know that that is the training ground for sacrifice. But we don’t like that word “obedience,” do we? “Sacrifice” sounds hard but like maybe we could reap some credit or glory from it whereas obedience is simply due diligence. Sacrifice seems like a high and holy event whereas obedience sounds like a thankless, daily grind.

And yet, I believe, that persecuted Christians will testify to the value of daily obedience in training the soul to respond correctly in the day of sacrifice. I think that’s their secret.

Obedience is also the remedy for the sins of rebellion, stubbornness, and idolatry, so rampant in the modern church. “So Samuel said: “Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams. For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry. Because you have rejected the word of the Lord, He also has rejected you from being king.” Then Saul said to Samuel, “I have sinned, for I have transgressed the commandment of the Lord and your words, because I feared the people and obeyed their voice.” I Samuel 15:22-24 NKJV

Something inside us wants to believe that Christians in persecuted countries are some other type of Christian, that somehow risking jobs or station in life or social exile or loss of family and friends, imprisonment, or torture – that somehow these things are not as hard for these believers as we imagine they would be for us. I think these believers would respond to us much as my old karate instructor responded to the class.

“Do you want to know our secret? You cannot sacrifice because you want it to be easy. You don’t put in the work. You’re not faithful in the small things. We have learned to obey Jesus in small ways, in daily ways, and to deny ourselves for Him a hundred ways before you all get out of bed in the morning. If you want to be ready to do what we do, start here.”

And so, my thinking has challenged me to start here, this week, to deeper obedience. How many passages of scripture have I read and dismissed without putting them into practice? How many times a day do I justify small unfaithfulness like a moment of gossip or an indulgence in self-righteousness? I’m not advocating a life of rule-following perfection-seeking practices (for we are not called to be slaves) but I do want to challenge myself to be rid of any attitude of lazy spirituality and habitual foot-dragging when it comes to translating my faith into a life defined by love of Christ and evidenced by an obedient spirit.

It might be as simple as saying “yes” when presented with opportunities to obey (to love, to forgive, to testify, to serve) and maybe each small yes builds a spiritual muscle that prepares a person for the day of greater sacrifice.

I am not a slave to sin or to modern culture or to selfishness or to a spectator faith. I am free through Christ to enter the ring through the door of love expressed through daily obedience.

And so, loved ones, are you.

The Secret You’ll Hate Me for Telling You! https://t.co/eDQKApVoCD#persecution#persecutedchurch#Endurance#amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) August 15, 2016

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When You’re a Total Loser

Sometimes you think you’re getting somewhere, you know, with this whole growing up in Jesus business.

You’re hitting your Bible regularly and going deep, not just the quick pass over a verse and a thought but digging in and rocking it. Your prayer life is consistent and gets more involved than “Help!” and “Please!” (not that those words don’t feature frequently) They know your face at church and well, you get the point. You’re no soul slouch.

Then, whammo! You hit what is apparently a giant spiritual pothole of what was that? Instead of choruses of praise songs, your mind floods with whispers from the dark side.

Who do you think you’re fooling? You’re a loser for Jesus. A con for Christ. Able to pull it together for flashes of time and convince a few people you’re a godly person but one hiccup and you’re wallowing in really common sinful goop –the sinkhole of self-pity, the jaws of jealousy, or the axis of anger. No matter how many alliterations you throw at it, though, it ain’t pretty. Other people figure out how to pull it together for Jesus, you know, so what’s wrong with you? After all this time, are you still expecting Jesus to pick up the tab for the gaping holes in your soul? He had such high hopes for you but now, now you’re just a disappointment to Him, well, to everyone, really.

The voices nearly convince you. It feels as though life is an algebra test and you missed the class on variables so you sit back, stunned, baffled, mystified by the entire equation.

But, this is when the regular Bible reading and prayer, the steady diet of truth and strong theology (yeah, that stuff is part of your arsenal because sometimes you need a tank against the enemy) turn out to come in handy because God’s voice is so much better to listen to than the taunts of the darkness. Verses and passages flood in like redeemed flying monkeys serving a new Master because you know that water took care of the Wicked Witch and Living Water is what will dissolve this assault on you, too. Jesus steps in and reminds you He’s the Master of a new math.

Yes, you still slip in it, sometimes you even belly flop down a slip-and-slide of the old sin nature. You’re growing in Christ but you’re not home yet, baby. As long as you reside on this outpost of glory, you’re going to step on landmines that detonate unsanctified sectors of your cleansed soul but you’re no loser. You’re eternal, loved one. There’s time to become His idea of you. You live in the light (all the better to see the pitfalls with, my dear). You fall back into the arms of grace because this is your home, your hope, your whole plan for salvation. Just Jesus, Jesus, Jesus all the time. It’s never you making payments on the bill your soul rang up. You were completely bankrupted by sin but He covered every dime. Now, all you owe is love and even that, He’s supplied.

So now you’re pulling out of the soul skid, brushing off your knees and soaking in the healing truth “that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ;” (Philippians 1:6) and “There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death.” Romans 8:1-2 And you unsheathe your sword so you can dwell in Romans 8, the whole chapter, gulping it down like the coldest water on the hottest day until the light surrounding you, shielding you, has fended off the dark assault.

Whew. That was close. But, He’s done it. Reached down and pulled you out of that spin. Wrapped you in His light like the shield force around the Starship Enterprise only better because it’s not science fiction; it’s the truth that protects your soul.

You’re no loser for Jesus.

Yeah, you blow it. You get it wrong. You fall. But even when you’re on the mat, you’re a child of the High King, a redeemed soul, an eternal spirit, one who is Loved by the Almighty God destined for glory, forgiven, saved by grace. He’s got you.

The whisperer doesn’t scare Him. One little word will fell him. Boom. Jesus.

You hear that? That’s right. That’s the silence that follows the boom. Rest in that. Rest in Him. He’s got you.

When You’re a Total Loser https://t.co/CWcqqG2o4w when victory is slip-sliding away #amwriting#lost#Grace#spiritualbattle

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) August 13, 2016

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Whiny Baby Sissy-Mary Christians (the call to courage in these times)

Outside of this blog, I’m not very brave.

It bothers me when people don’t like me or misunderstand something I’ve said or disapprove of my opinion. I know I have a high tolerance for pain, but if someone made me sit in an uncomfortable chair in a room with nothing to read or do and ignored me, I’d be giving up state secrets in a matter of hours. That’s all to say that what I’m about to write is as challenging for me as it may sound to you.

I believe a time is near when American Christians will endure intensified social persecution but I think we shouldn’t whine about it.

It’s good that there are watchmen and watchwomen who post blogs and news reports about ways that our religious freedoms are being eroded (more quickly every day, it seems) in favor of social agendas and political correctness. I don’t think, though, that we should gather on Facebook or Twitter and bemoan the coming tide or reminisce about the past like a bunch of hand-wringing school marms wondering what to do when the black hats ride into town.

Christians are not victims and we so we shouldn’t act like victims. We are not civilians in the war for souls, we’re soldiers. Our enemy isn’t the NEA, NRA, Democrats, Republicans, or the LGBTQ community. Our enemy is the deceptive power of Satan at work in the world and we need to be on guard against his tactics, one of which is to get us acting like whiny sissy-Mary’s over every form of persecution and another of which is to treat like enemies the lost souls we’re called to love and serve.

There are brothers and sisters in other parts of the world losing homes and jobs for the name of Jesus. Imprisoned in His name. Separated from loved ones, suffering bodily harm, financial ruin, and even death because they claim the name of Jesus Christ. That, alone, should keep us from whining.

No one took Jesus’ life from Him. He laid His life down. He submitted to arrest, to beating, to prosecution. Isaiah 53 says, “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.”

It’s easy to get sucked in to a victim mentality. “Oh, the intolerant world is restricting the freedoms of the poor, persecuted Christians.” But that isn’t a wide-angle perspective on the truth. The truth is that as Satan senses his time drawing near, he will lash out against those who belong to Jesus and life is going to get intense.

But we are not victims.

We are sons and daughters of the Most High King. We are soldiers serving under Christ. We are servants of the owner of this planet and our lives and futures belong to Him. We are salt. So when the decaying meat tells us we are no longer wanted, ultimately, it is the meat that suffers loss. We are light. So when those living in darkness seek to limit our influence, it is they who will stumble and fall.

In our love, we work and fight to remain at the task of being salt, at being light, but when we cease to do this for the love of others and act simply out of self-preservation, it ceases to be a work in the service of the Lord. Jesus laid His life down and calls us to do the same.

Remember Wesley and Buttercup in The Princess Bride? Whenever Buttercup would selfishly order Wesley around, because he loved her, he would obey and respond, “As you wish.” Eventually, this won her over and she learned to love in return.

As I said, I’m not as brave as what I write, but if we truly love those who are lost, is there a place for this type of sacrifice in our own culture? When they tell us to stop praying in the schools, what if we reply, “As you wish.” When they tell us to keep our God out of their government, what if we reply, “As you wish.” When they tell us we are not welcome in their discourse, their movies, their airwaves, or their bookstores, what if we reply, “As you wish.”

But we don’t cease in the fight, for after all, the real fight happens on our knees and through our obedience to Christ. The real fight happens every morning when our feet hit the floor and we face the choice of living for ourselves or for Him. We truly fight by abandoning the farce of victimhood and embracing the call to lay our lives down for those He came to save.

This is just what I’ve been thinking because it’s hard for me to picture Jesus whining and wishing we were back in the fifties. I know He has compassion on each of us. No matter how little the world values us, He sees us, loves us, and knows our worth. But, the people of the Most High King who know their future is eternally secure should not flail, cry out, and run around like Chicken Little. The sky isn’t falling, loved ones. We’re witnessing what our Lord and King said would come to pass. He has equipped us. He will deliver us. He is with us.

Whiny Baby Sissy Mary Christians https://t.co/HNZmF1krM7 the call to courage in these times #persecution#amwriting#courage

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) August 10, 2016

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