I have been in the midst of a season that I've failed miserably to share with any clarity. A sense of shame, albeit false shame, has caused me to not want to share at all. I've been in turmoil for several months over something I believe God asked me to do. It was a difficult thing for me - way beyond the comfort of my own personality. I recall telling God that I would obey and begging Him not to let "this... this... and this..." happen. Each "this" happened. It would seem God doesn't let us put restrictions on His commands. :)
Part of the "this" that I feared would happen was mass rejection from people that I genuinely respect and deeply love. I hate rejection. I hate not being loved. Without going into details, the last 18 months have isolated me, left me feeling lonely and empty and even ashamed. Somehow ashamed that my obedience was misconstrued as something hateful - that 7 years of character and ministry were forgotten in one misunderstood act. Massive ego demolition. :)
Part of the "this" was being without a fellowship to attend every Sunday.
Part of the "this" was not being able to serve those that I've so loved serving. And honestly, that's a privilege I sorely miss, not because it stroked my ego, but because I delight in seeing spiritual lights turned on and hearts pressing closer to a Lord that I deeply love.
Part of the "this" was being laid bare, vulnerable to ridicule, and unable to vindicate myself. I would look mean. I would look foolish. I would be misunderstood.
There's more, but that's not the point. The point is: "This... this... and this" happened. And I know what it's for...
GOD WANTS ME TO KNOW THIS: To be unsatisfied with every indulgence of my flesh or even every blessing but God Himself is a good thing.
In my loneliness, emptiness, shame, dissatisfaction, I have felt unquenchable thirst. That thirst, if I try to sate it my own way, falls far short of my need. All my wells are mere mirages. I run to them and get a mouthful of dust. Each "this" that God let happen was a sign pointing to Him that said, "Not enough, child - This way to Life." To come away thirsty from wells I've trusted to fill me is good, because the thirst drives me to the One True Source of lasting satisfaction. And though I may not be fully satisfied, the thirst is slaked enough to keep coming to Him.
My misunderstood obedience brought to life everything I feared. God ordained for my wells of safety to dry up and for me to come away from them parched, broken, and alone. I know what it's for... to cause me to be unsatisfied with everything but God Himself. To overthrow every love and leave only my love for Him.
In light of the end, the means doesn't seem so intolerable.
Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy
I've been watching a production from my picture window. Finches and bluejays fighting for ownership of the feeder. An occasional dive-bombing cardinal - although she is willing to share. The feeder hangs in our old elm tree waaaaayyyy out on the branch. Hung with very thin wire, we placed it there purposefully to keep it from the squirrels. Actually, it has only increased the entertainment factor.
Most of the "show" this morning isn't the birds. It's a squirrel and Jon's instrument of tomfoolery: a rod of wood set up like a propeller, a corncob on each end. It spins in the wind, but its purpose is to propel squirrels. Not REpel. Really, PROpel. Yes, it's attached to Mr. Squirrel's old elm tree. His first few twirls were quite entertaining. Though it only swung from side to side with the added weight, the squirrel's reaction was worth it.
But now our squirrel is a seasoned prop pilot. He hangs upside down from the middle of the prop with his back feet and grabs the corn kernels with his little "hands" all while swinging mightily back and forth, back and forth. Then he has this cool "Comaneci" move to launch himself back to the tree.
Mr. Squirrel has also mastered the long jump. He can jump from the tree, land on the hanging feeder, and eat while swinging side-to-side and around in circles. It's his own little Disney teacup ride (though I wouldn't suggest eating at the same time on one of those).
Anyway, I've watched this squirrel for several days. He is relentless. He climbs, he swings, he gathers, he flips, he descends, and then he buries and starts again. The question hit me: How much is enough? He's never satisfied. Once the supply is exhausted, he is forced to find some other source. At least until we restock his supply. In a sense, we are his "gods". Bad ones at that. We make him do useless gymnastics to get his needs met. So glad God doesn't do that to me.
But I do that to me. I did a quick overview of my past "broken cisterns". You know - those places of temporary satisfaction. The ones that eventually come up empty. I've left a trail of them. When one left me empty, I searched for a new one. And I've done plenty of gymnastics, both physical and mental, to get my needs met. The egocentric nature of the flesh really does believe it can meet its own needs, fill its own appetites, satisfy itself. And just like my squirrel, we can look "oh so busy" and productive in the hunt. I once watched a squirrel dumpster-dive for french fries. He was fat. I'm sure he felt satisfied for awhile, but I don't think french fries are a good staple for squirrels. And eventually the dumpster is just filthy, void of sustenance, and there's no energy left to climb out of the thing.
Last night I was reading John 13. I can't really explain how I got there from here, but I came away thinking "when you're certain you have an inexhaustible source and an ever-satisfying source, you are freed from the stress of meeting your own need." There's a phrase in John 13:3 that says "Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands..." All things... maybe we could think about it this way: Jesus, knowing all of His needs were met in the Father..." And that's just one aspect.
If I knew my "hour had come", my needs would be screaming. How could I assure myself that I was loved? How could I avoid the hurt and pain and loss? Why not just throw caution to the wind and fulfill those selfish desires I've held at bay?
But Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, met His hour with divine selflessness. We are told right before that phrase that the devil had already put into the heart of Judas to betray Him. Jesus knew that. The false accusations were coming... the darts of the enemy were launched... and He undressed, girded Himself with a towel, and washed the feet of both His friends and His enemy. It wasn't "hey, I'm about to die for you - what about meeting one of my needs?" He had been given all things therefore could give everything.
We have an everlasting source. We have an inexhaustible supply. It's not our employers, it's not our "drugs of choice" (i.e. M & M's...), it's not the people around us, it's not our own smarts, it's not in accolades, approval, acceptance... it's in Him, in Christ, who was given all things into His hands from the Father. A bottomless well, not a broken cistern. An everlasting cornfield, not a couple of cobs on a stick. :)
I'm thinking today maybe I won't be like our squirrel, turning upside down, hanging precariously, trying to get my own needs met, however amusing that might be. What I need is in Jesus' hands - think I'll go to the Source.
Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy
We used to call our basement "the cave". It was dark and damp. We hung out down there, but we were never quite comfortable. The carpet was brown and, in the dark, we were never quite sure what might lurk in there. (Bugs like basements.) It was stained and always felt dirty no matter how much we swept. (Did you note I didn't use the "v" word? - even when I spell it correctly it always looks wrong.) It had inset 4" wide bars on the 4 small windows. It was lit by a few lamps and by the TV that almost took my life several weeks back. [See Monumental Stupidity blog]
A couple weeks ago, we decided it was time for renovation. New carpet. White ceiling. Cream walls and ultra white trim. Bars removed. And the most important addition: Light. Not just any light, but light that will burn your retinas. I'm not kidding. We left the light on and came home in the dark to find our entire back yard lit up. We have come into the light.
Which leads me to the point. I walked down there this morning in the quiet. A host of scriptures were flying through my head. The one I seem to know most well is this: "If we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin." 1 John 1:7 Familiar to many. But I asked the Lord to "unfamiliarize" His word to me.
He reminded me that He IS Light. 1 John 1:5 says that God is Light and that in Him there is no darkness. God has no dark side. That's comforting to me. It means He doesn't hide His character from me. I may not know what He's going to do next, but there's enough light for my feet, and I don't have to worry about Him sticking out His foot to trip me around the turn. He has His best in mind and therefore my best as well.
Because He is Light, we are children of Light. We are IN the Light or "light in the Lord". Eph. 5:8 All things become visible when they are exposed by the light (Eph 5:13). We knew there were lots of flaws downstairs, but they were obscured by the darkness. We could ignore them, but inwardly they made us squirm, made us a little queasy. With the intense light, even after the room was changed, I could see differences in shades of white. I could see where the paint didn't completely cover. Little inequities became obvious. But you know, I was relieved to see them despite the extra work. They could be touched up. And light in the sometimes murky heart of the believer is a really good thing. I don't always like seeing my sin, but praise Him that His light is there to expose it. He removes the bars and sets me free to acknowledge my inadequacy and to embrace His more than adequate grace.
The word says that we are to walk as children of Light and that the fruit of the Light consists in ALL goodness and ALL righteousness and ALL truth. Luke came in right after the renovations were completed. His response was interesting. He said, "Things will just feel cleaner." It won't be perfectly clean. It won't be flawless. But things will sure feel clean, because the fruit of the light is more purity. So it is with us. The resulting fruit of the Light in us and of us walking in the Light will be visible goodness and righteousness and truth. And we'll feel cleaner.
And maybe just like the light illuminating my backyard at night, I'll keep the neighbors awake - they'll be drawn to the Light (if only to tell me it's just a little too bright).
**And this is just a sidebar because I can't resist: The TV that almost took my life was rewarded a few days ago. Two of my men had to move the thing. Remember - I told you it was heavy! It slipped out of their hands and met its demise on the concrete floor. It was shattered and still sits in pieces because the Dorminys haven't figured out how to dispose of it. Though it will be missed by a few members of this household, I feel avenged. And everytime I walk by it, I think "that's what happens to the monuments to our stupidity - God eventually shatters them." :)
Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy
