Running On Empty (Part 2)

Last we left Elijah, he was a little fed up and having a much needed rest. Then the Scripture tells us this:

“He lay down and slept under a juniper tree; and behold, there was an angel touching him, and he said to him, “Arise, eat.”  Then he looked and behold, there was at his head a bread cake [baked on] hot stones, and a jar of water. So he ate and drank and lay down again. The angel of the LORD came again a second time and touched him and said, “Arise, eat, because the journey is too great for you.” So he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mountain of God.”

I told you that we would get unstuck at this place under the broom tree – that place where we’ve had enough and it’s just too much “ that place that fear drives us and hopes to keep us captive“  that place of both self-loathing and self-importance. We don’t “unstuck” ourselves.

God sent Elijah an angel to touch him. I love it when Scripture makes me laugh, and granted, you probably won’t find this in commentaries by great theologians, but I’m no theologian¦ so take this or leave it.  It’s just my own interpretation. The Hebrew word for “touched” [naga’] means both “to touch or to strike”.. When I first read this passage, it’s easy to envision the tender touch on the shoulder by some sweet little angel. Sleepyhead Elijah awakes rubbing his eyes to find a jug of water and warm bread, eats heartily and lies down for another nap. But I don’t think it was like that if Elijah and I are anything alike. I think an exhausted, dirty, frustrated, depressed man hit the dirt under a tree in hopes that he would not wake up. And then some angel had to come along and ruin the plan. Yup. I think Elijah might have got a holy “smack”.  It takes more than a touch to wake me when I don’t want to be woken. I think it’s possible that angel struck Elijah but good in a holy “GET UP.” But that’s just me.

The angels says “Arise and eat.” Let me ask you something: if you awoke to breakfast in bed, would you get up? The word says there at his head were fresh baked bread and a cool jug o’ water. Would you get to your feet? I don’t think he meant just “sit up”.  The word means “to  stand up”.   But we aren’t told that Elijah stands; only that he ate and drank and laid back down. Reminds me of a stubborn teenager.

It looks as though God patiently allows Elijah a bit more rest. The angel comes a second time. Smack. “Elijah, arise and eat.” But this time, he gets the longer version. I do that. “Luke, it’s time to get up.” 2nd time, “Luke, it’s time to get up. You are going to be late for class.” [grin] The longer version is the why. “Elijah, get up and eat because the journey is too great for you.”

We’ve seen that word for “too great” already. When Elijah whined to God when he arrived at the tree, he said “It is enough!” It is too much! The angel uses Elijah’s complaint. “Arise and eat because the journey is just too much for you.” I like the assumption in this verse. It says, “You are going on a journey whether you want to or not” and you can do it on empty, in your own strength, or you can do it on full, in Mine. Either way, you are going on a journey.” That’s the Denise version. This time he “arose and ate and drank.”

In my situation, I didn’t have an angel smack me on the back of the head. Rather, the Holy Spirit did it in His own way. I need a holy smack every now and then. Maybe you’re one of the pliable sheep. I try to be, but sometimes I can be pretty stiff-necked. A smack on the back of the head will at least make me bow. I find it interesting that God leaves us to ourselves sometimes so that we can see how inept we are without Him. And then the Holy Spirit steps up to reinforce the lesson! Though painful, I’m grateful that God doesn’t always heed our pleas. Some of the things that I’ve asked for in the heat of my hurt and discouragement would have had cataclysmic results if God had granted them. Praise Him for His mercy!

But right here is the answer to moving on from the broom tree. “Arise and eat and drink.”

#1 Arise: Stand up. The Hebrew word can also mean “be established, fixed”. In other words, stand up and get your spiritual footing. Two verses came to mind when I read this. The first is found in Revelation 3:2-3a in Jesus' letter to the church at Sardis. “Wake up, and strengthen the things that remain, which were about to die, for I have not found your deeds completed in the sight of My God. So remember what you have received and heard; and keep it, and repent.” Sometimes we just have to get up and start again, doing what we know God has already said to do. Remember what He said to you before all of this happened? Keep it. Repent and move on. And Hebrews 12:12-13 says this: “Therefore, strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble, and make straight paths for your feet, so that the limb which is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed.” Check out the definition for “weak” hands. “To let pass, to pass by, to neglect, to relax, to loose, to disregard.” “Feeble” means “to kneel down”. Sure describes me sometimes. Ever feel like you’ve fallen and you can’t get up? So tired, so weak that things just pass you by? You become apathetic and just relax your spiritual grip so much that you disregard what’s important? God is telling us to get a grip and stand up. If I’m going to be on my knees, it needs to be for prayer, not apathy. Sometimes, even when we've been obedient, like Elijah had been, we can get burned by other people. Fear sets in and we arrive at the broom tree. It's hard to take the next step - we don't want to hurt again. We're tired and gun shy. Maybe we're shaking in our boots and refusing to move. "Deer in the headlights" disciples waiting for the next bus to run us over - sometimes it's even a church bus. That's where I've been recently. Injury in obedience doesn't necessarily encourage us to take the next step (unless it's to run in the wrong direction). It takes faith to stand up and strengthen your hands and knees and get your feet moving on the straight path again. That's one of the reasons Hebrews 12 is prefaced with Hebrews 11: "And without faith it is impossible to please God..." (v6) We have to believe "He is"... He is God and He is good - a rewarder of those who seek Him. Fear forces us to forget God is faithful. (I apologize for all the f's.)

#2 Arise and Eat: I love a warm Panera Bread French baguette. I love it so much I can imagine the smell. It’s a delightful craving. I love the smell of chocolate too, but fresh baked bread will bend my will. Jesus said in John 6:35 “I am the Bread of Life; he who comes to Me will not hunger.” Did you know that the fresh baked bread in the tabernacle was called  “the Bread of the Presence”. We talk frequently about the Scripture (or Word) being bread to us. After all, man does not live by bread alone, but on every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God. Yes, the written word is our manna, and we should daily eat from it. But I want to stress here what God has stressed to me. HE is the Bread of Life. His Presence is life to us. There is no life in the Scriptures without the breath or life of God in them. Ask an unbeliever how the word tastes and they’ll tell you,  “not very filling; dry and bland; leaves a bitter aftertaste." But to the believer, the word is filling and satisfying and tasty. Why? Because the Presence of God, the Holy Spirit, brings it to life for you and me. “You will make known to me the path of life; in Your Presence there is fullness of joy; in Your right hand there are pleasures forever.” Psalm 16:11

When we eat of His Presence, when we have an intimate relationship with Him (abide in Him, love Him, converse with Him, listen to Him), He makes known to us the path of life and the journey is not “too much” for us anymore. But try 40 days in a spiritual wilderness without Him: it ain’t pretty. Try just one day... it’s enough to make you find a broom tree.

#3 Arise and eat and drink: There’s a particular brand of water that I love (comes in a rectangular bottle). I love it because it’s smooth. There’s no “metal”  taste; it seems taste-less. When the bottle is ice cold, I’d rather have that than a coke (and that’s saying a lot!). I also have this attraction to bodies of water. Streams, lakes, oceans. (I like to look AT them and be NEAR them; not be IN them or ON them.) Maybe it’s because the day I surrendered my life to Jesus, I was sitting by a lake. But even before, there was something about being on the beach in Florida or sitting by a stream that was soothing to me.

I love that Jesus followed his John 6 revelation as the Bread of Life, with John 7’s announcement. “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, ˜From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.’  By this He spoke of the Spirit, whom those who believed in Him were to receive.” Ever been so long in a spiritual wilderness that you were absolutely parched for lack of His Presence? Maybe you don’t take detours like I have. Think of some time when you were in the heat and had to go a long time without that bottle of cold water we just talked about. Imagine someone binding your hands, sitting you on the hot pavement in full sun in Phoenix, AZ mid-summer with an ice cold bottle of water right within reach, but unable to get the cap off. That’s what it feels like once you drink from Him and then wander off on your own for too long. Living water is always within reach. Jesus says, “Are you thirsty? Come to Me and drink.” He says, “Be filled with the Spirit.” Bread and water... the necessities. Without them, we die. In them is life. IN JESUS ALONE IS LIFE and He is enough, sometimes too much!

God's answer to my dilemma was this: Stand up and get your spiritual footing in Me. Eat of My Presence every time you wake and throughout the day. Abide in Me and let Me teach you to love Me. Feast on My word and don’t neglect what I say. Listen. Meditate on My word to you and remind yourself of what I have already commanded you and promised you. Empty yourself of self-loathing and self-importance – and be filled with the Holy Spirit. Why? The journey is too much for you.

These are the things Jesus as spoken to me if I want to leave the broom tree. And I have to leave it.  There’s a journey one way or the other. Do we want to run on empty? Or make the journey in His fullness. There’s a wilderness to come out of and a mountain ahead to climb and an “unlearning”  in the future for Elijah… and for me. (See part 3)


Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Running On Empty (Part 1)

"And he [Elijah] was afraid and arose and ran for his life and came to Beersheba, which belongs to Judah, and left his servant there. But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a juniper tree; and he requested for himself that he might die, and said, 'It is enough; now, O LORD, take my life, for I am not better than my fathers." (1 Kings 19:3-4)

If not for Chapter 18, we probably we wouldn't even question Elijah's response to a death threat. God has defeated 450 prophets of Baal and shown up before Elijah's very eyes in great faithfulness and might. He made a public display of the people's gods that were not gods. Elijah brought the prophets down to the brook Kishon and "slew them there." Then, if that weren't enough, he stood on top of Carmel and prayed and watched a three year drought end in a heavy shower. And if that weren't enough to shock the reader - the hand of the LORD was on him, and he outran Ahab to Jezreel. Ahab by chariot - Elijah on foot. 20 miles. Smoked him!

So we question why Elijah would run in fear over Jezebel's death threat. Don't those experiences with God merit unabashed trust?
Sure they do. God is always worthy of our whole trust even when He doesn't show up with fire and rain. So what's up with this guy? From fire to flood to flight.

I was led to this passage of Scripture because in recent months I “ran” and found myself stuck. I asked God to give me an example of someone feeling the same way, someone similar in personality or maybe circumstance. 1 Kings 19’s Elijah was His answer. Frankly, I was hoping for Mary or John the Apostle. [grin] To a much simpler degree, I faced (in concept) some of what Elijah went through. He delivered “OUCH” messages to hard-hearted authorities. Some of his language and behavior might have seemed questionable to those who witnessed it. (ex. 1 Kings 17:21, 18:27) He wasn’t a popular friend and spent a lot of time in isolation. God used him to miff people and to even bring misery. Ahab hated to see him coming. For his obedience, Elijah was dubbed “Troubler”,  and handed a death threat from a wild woman.

I wonder how he felt? I felt rejected, despised, and insecure. I felt what God had asked of me was too much for me because my obedience touched on my biggest fears. I was so certain in the beginning that I had clearly heard God’s voice. I was cautious and prayerful. In the middle of it, I felt empowered by Him, emboldened and anxious all at once. But when I had finished what God asked, there came doubt, fear, and self-loathing. My obedience seemed only to stir up the matter, rather than resolve it. I seemed to be the conduit for strife and pain. How could obedience result in such things? I was perceived a “troubler”.

Elijah does exactly what I would do. He reacts with the same drama that I sometimes do - privately before God. (I’ve never hidden the fact that I can be a spiritual brat.) He despairs. Gets fed up. "It is enough", he says. The Hebrew actually says "It's too much!" There it is... ever feel like it's just too much... whatever "it" is? “It”  is different for everyone. Huge or minute, we can still end up at the juniper tree begging for relief, although maybe not to the point of death.

Why fear after such faith? Expectations. I did a God-thing. I expected God would, and then they would, and that God wouldn’t allow me to be rejected or hurt or shamed. Instead, my obedience seemed to stir things up, caused more strife, brought more pain, I was marked a “troubler”. So I ran. The Hebrew word for trouble is  akar. It means “to roil”. Not a word we use often. According to Webster, to roil is “to make cloudy or muddy by stirring up; to rile”. It’s what we might call “making waves”.  Apparently, obedience can cause one to be a roil pain. Or be in roil pain. [Oh, don’t groan. You should have anticipated it from someone who loves puns.]

I wonder if Elijah had expectations. “Maybe once the Baal worshipers are gone, God will let it rain. If it rains, maybe Ahab and Jezebel will repent, or at least they’ll leave me be for awhile. If not, maybe God’ll just get ‘em. I don’t know. Somehow I don’t think he expected a “wanted dead or dead” decree. When God doesn’t behave,¦ we get afraid. Somewhere in our service to God, we forget obedience is not about us. We forget that to obey is simply to say “Thy will be done.” Not â “Thy will be done if” or “Thy will be done and then Thou wilt”.  Jesus’ example of obedience was impeccable. He only did what He saw the Father doing. He did nothing of His own initiative. The gospel of John repeats that over and over again. We discover there is but one thing that Jesus did of His own initiative, that was to die. You and I can do nothing apart from Jesus who knows how to obey. It is in Him that we find “Thy will be done.” Period.

Elijah ran to Jezreel in the strength of the Lord. He journeyed to the juniper tree under his own power. “It’s too much!” It’s always too much when, like me, we are equally full of self-loathing and self-importance. Instead of dying to myself, emptying myself and being full in the strength of the Lord, I’m often full of myself and running on empty to the broom tree.
But you know, God didn’t lean over the edge of heaven and say, “OH NO!! SHE RAN!!” Instead, He waited on me to arrive and, like Elijah, He let me have a much needed rest. I call that a holy “shoosh”, a “calm down, child. We’ll talk later.”
What’s the answer for someone sleeping under the broom tree… how do we move on? Shoosh, we’ll talk later.


Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Fear To Faith

I was with a friend this morning. We were chatting and eating. It is the girlfriend way. We have both been in the same “war” for  months  upon months. She was forced to the front lines. I was the reluctant soldier who joined her. I get an occasional reprieve. She seldom does. Sometimes I feel like God sends me for more supplies, but she is commanded to stay and fight. And what supplies I can bring is really quite minimal.

Today I showed up at the front lines empty handed and she supplied me. She didn’t realize it. Since she’s human, I’m sure there is at least one bone of vanity in her, but I never see it. She’s simply a giver. A servant. An extra miler. I’m in awe sometimes and that awe serves to remind me that I’m seeing Christ at work in her. No one can do that apart from Him, not authentically.

But back to today.

She had three fears that were plaguing her. They were big ones, not little mamby-pamby fears. And they came to life. It was a “fear in your face” moment three times over. She said she went to bed fretting but finally relinquished it all to God. I recognized the desperation. I’ve been taught many times over that desperation is a great motivator for obedience  - that’s why God doesn’t hesitate to use a war or two to push us there. Reliance by trial is a proven method. She realized her impotence to change anything and recognized that the Omnipotent One alone has enough power to either remove her fears or sustain her in the midst of them.
The next morning she woke to find that God had instantly managed all three without any help from her. She laughingly stated, “I should give my fears straight to God more often.” Yeah, we all should. But I realized for her it was a “battle-won-with-war-yet-to-be-done” thing. One of those victories that remind us we’re not dead yet. And those times need to be memorialized. I’m big on marking spiritual “ahas” with physical markers. So today I got my friend a couple of military-style dog tags. One says, “Fear not”.  The other says “Faith” .
“Fear not” is one of God’s favorite things to say to reluctant soldiers. Faith (fully persuaded trust in God) is the active weapon (the “verb”) that destroys all fear. I don’t expect her to wear those tags around her neck;  they’re not very feminine. But I thought she could hang them somewhere as a reminder of today’s victory. A reminder that she can stand and surrender at the same time: taking her stand against the enemy and surrendering to the Most High Commander. One battle won is hope for taking the next hill.

There’s a line I love from a song I can barely remember. It says “It’s Your [God’s] reputation that makes me outrageously brave.”  When I watch God guard His own reputation through promises kept and love conveyed to His own, a spark of bravery is ignited. I got a spark of courage today from a friend whose God was faithful and gracious to give her a win. I’m amply supplied through my friend’s victory. The flag of God’s reputation is flying on her hill. It’s enough to stir even this reluctant soldier to outrageous bravery.


Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Inventions... and All That Jazz

I play the piano. Not well. I only play for God and me. I’m more of a mathematician than a musician. Jon would love it if I would just pound out some jazzy bent tunes. It’s just not in me. I prefer rhythm and structure. That’s why I love Bach Inventions.

J. S. Bach wrote musical exercises for his students;  they were [BIG PHRASE ALERT!] two-part contrapuntal pieces. He introduced a short music fragment in one voice, then repeated it in the second voice while the first was still playing a counterpoint. An over-simplified way of saying it might be this: the right hand is a couple of measures ahead of the left hand. :) I love them because they require precision and a mild bit of ambidexterity. In short: you have to count. One doesn’t just feel her way through a Bach Invention. It’s learned and the emotion is added later. At least that’s how it is with me.
And I like that.

That’s why life gets me out of sorts sometimes. It’s a bit like a Bach Invention out of sync. Lots of events overlap. The theme is punchy, joyful, rhythmic. As each event plays out, a new one enters in the same key¦ it’s a delight to watch events unfold. Safe, precise, predictable, then the cat leaps on the keyboard. You know what I mean. The key changes and the tune is interrupted with a rhythm that is all out of sorts. (Jon calls this “jazz”) There doesn’t seem to be any reason to it. The math is gone. The syncopation is almost annoying. The notes are offensive. And I get this tic in my right eyelid.
Apparently God has an eclectic musical sense, and a sense of humor. Rhythm and structure can be boring. Bach didn’t send his students out to perform inventions. They were for the classroom. Cantatas and concertos were for the audience.
God is into beauty and variety, crescendos and decrescendos, symmetry and syncopation. It could be a little unnerving for a soloist if the symphony decided to play a U2 song during her Rachmaninoff piece. But sometimes I think God conducts just like that. Brahms’ Lullaby is playing and God throws in a didgeridoo!** Sometimes I want to stop all the music and scream, “What was that!!!?”

But it’s not my music. It’s not my orchestra. I’m not the conductor. I can only play my part and wait on the cat to land. And when the cat lands, maybe I best groove with it than tell it to scram. Maybe I need to get out of the classroom and feel a few jazz rips. Move to the music rather than trying to define it with my own rhythm. Embrace the good and the bad and the in-between, the mild, the major, and magic of it all. Maybe I could learn to be more of a musician than a mathematician, go with the flow rather than dam up His river in me. Would it be so bad to let go of my own rhythm, let the cat dance on the keys, pick up my hands, watch the Conductor and risk a bit of soul for the sake of His invention and all that jazz?

**What’s a didgeridoo? Listen at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QyL1O6141g&feature=related

Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy

I Know What It's For...

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

A Squirrelly Perspective

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

Bright Renovations

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

I-Toons

Insecurity has been my nemesis for many years. The enemy uses it on a regular basis to derail me and to move me into my "I-toons" cycle. (I'm a great fan of puns.) It's a self-protective cycle that's all about "I". Makes me looney toons.

At this point, I had this great big cutesy harangue about insecurity and the behavioral model of a spineless jellyfish. But I don't seem to have the energy to fuss with it. So I thought, "what's the harm in dauntless vulnerability?"

Then it dawned on me: Insecurity keeps me from dauntless vulnerability. :) Combining several dictionaries, the definition of "insecure" looks like this: Subject to fears and doubts; exposed or liable to risk, loss or danger; inadequately guarded, protected or sustained; distrustful.

This got me to musing... when I am fearful and doubting... when I am distrustful... am I distrustful of myself or of God? Recently I did something that I was confident God had asked me to do. I wasn't thrilled with it. It was far beyond my comfort. Nevertheless, I did it. It not only wasn't received as I had hoped, the result even seems to have caused hurt. Since then, my heart has been assailed with doubt. I have felt "exposed" and endangered - as though I've been put in a precarious place, unguarded, unprotected. It's the experiential definition of insecurity.

I know that God has no dark side. But I'm certain that I do. I listen to the voice in my head and sometimes it's not God's. There is always the possibility (sometimes even probability) that I have missed God, that I have mistakenly done something that He never expected of me. Lately, if I'm not second guessing myself, I'm begging for vindication. I could attempt to "fix" it by apologies - but I can't apologize for doing what I've prayed so diligently over and was so certain that I was supposed to do. And yet I find this inner dialogue of trying to give myself absolution from a crime I didn't commit. Ever do that? I told you - looney tunes.

Today I read something that has the potential to rescue me from the "I-toons" cycle - at least for today. :) In fact, it's not new - it's just that I dance around it in my doubt or in my hurt. I shared with someone the other night that I'm most frustrated over my current situation because of my expectations. If I did what God asked, why didn't "such and such" happen? If I didn't do what God asked, why didn't the people that say that they love me, love me enough to correct me? In my expectations, I've placed myself in a "no-win". In my personal insecurities, I've placed my security in results; in the actions of other people.

Today I read this from Tim Keller's book, "The Reason for God". He says this: "When my own personal grasp of the gospel was very weak, my self-view swung wildly between two poles. When I was performing up to my standards...I felt confident but not humble... When I was not living up to standards, I felt humble but not confident, a failure. I discovered, however, that the gospel contained the resources to build a unique identity. In Christ I could know I was accepted by grace not only despite my flaws, but because I was willing to admit them. The Christian gospel is that I am so flawed that Jesus had to die for me, yet I am so loved and valued and that Jesus was glad to die for me. This leads to deep humility and deep confidence at the same time. It undermines both swaggering and sniveling. I cannot feel superior to anyone, and yet I have nothing to prove to anyone. I do not think more of myself nor less of myself. Instead, I think of myself less. I don't need to notice myself - how I'm doing, how I'm being regarded - so often."

In my insecurity, in the hope that one expectation or the other would fix it, I forgot the most vital truth of the gospel. If I obey, it doesn't make me more accepted by God - it is simply the result of my relationship with Him. If I disobey, it doesn't make me less accepted by God - it is simply an indication of my need for His grace which has already been lavished upon me in Christ - the result of my relationship with Him. So whether I'm accused or absolved, punished or proven, I am accepted in the Beloved and that's all that matters.

So for this moment, I'm choosing to not fret over the results or lack of results of my obedience or disobedience. In the words of Brennan Manning: "Father is fond of me." For the time being, God has silenced my I-toons with His grace.


Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Monumental Stupidity

Do you suppose God just throws His holy head back and laughs when He witnesses outrageous stupidity? He had a front row seat the other day.

It all began in our downstairs den with the thought: "There's just not enough room for me to do my Wii Fit." Harmless thought really. It was the process that followed (see if you recognize it) that did the damage. "But with a little adjustment, I could make enough room. I just need to move the entertainment center to a different wall. But before I do, the movies are really a mess. But so are all those movies behind the bar. (We don't use our bar for drinks - it's considered extra storage.) I really need to find a better place for those. What if I put those on the shelves where the games are? There are some games back in that old closet - really should combine all those in one place. But I can't even walk in that closet." You can imagine how this reasoning played out. I cleaned out the closet to clean off the shelves to clean out the bar to organize the entertainment center to move it to another wall. This took the entire morning. The pivotal moment came. I moved the couch. I moved the chair. I moved the tables and the lamps.

Entertainment systems, however, are a different breed of furniture. They involve wires. Lots of wires. Wires that I was absolutely certain I could never reconnect in the right places. But I'm smarter than the average rock. Rather than disconnect everything... I disconnected only the necessary things. And I made a chart of the back of the VCR, the DVD player, the "whatever that other box is", and the TV, meticulously noting which wire plugged where. And I set each unit on the floor. EXCEPT the TV. Our TV is large.

I remember the day Jon brought it home. It was a gift. He and Jonathon carried it downstairs - it was all they could do to get it in place without tearing it up. The top of the furniture bore the wounds. There it sat. Ominous. I'm not sure why, but somehow I thought I was going to be able to push the entertainment center + TV over to the other wall. I grabbed one end, and as I pushed, I imitated a cartoon. Sock feet slipping, I ran in place for a few seconds. "Okay, the TV needs to be removed. I'll go get help." Now in the time it took to reorganize the entire basement, everyone in my family had disappeared. Everyone was raptured but me.

A sane person would have said, "I'll wait till the second coming" or at least until a large man arrives. Here was my thinking... "I'll just have to do it myself." Ironically, I actually said aloud, "Denise, use some ingenuity - you're a smart woman." No, really. I did say that. Really.

I knew I couldn't move it to the floor - I'd never get it back up to that height. So... I brought over an end table. I put a large pillow on it. I won't explain my reasoning - it seemed like a good idea at the time. It was almost the same height - the pillowed table was a little lower. I tugged and pulled and, yes, I managed to get the TV safely to its precarious position on the pillow. I put my sneakers on to get traction and pushed the entertainment center to the other wall, moving connected wires, speakers, etc. as I went. Finally it reached its destination. Now I had to lift the TV off the pillow and "scootch" it back up to its original position.

Enter the stupid part. (I know, you thought we'd already reached it...) I tried using the extra long pillow case to sort of LIFT one side and maneuver one end onto the system. This only served to put the pillow in an unnatural position (in the way!) so I let the pillow drop and began working the end up to where it needed to be. Then I stopped and prayed. "Lord," I said, "I need a little bit of that Samson strength. I've got the hair and I've laid off the wine..." I'm sure He was amused. And then with every bit of power I had, I lifted the TV. It was ugly, but I managed to get it up there. But something kept getting in the way and I couldn't push it to the center. It was getting heavier and heavier, but I finally got it to a place where it wouldn't fall. And then I saw it. The problem. I never measured to see if the cable cord - which was now fully stretched out of the wall - would be long enough.

So I said to myself, "Self - you need to move the whole system back about a foot." This posed the new problem. I now had to remove the TV AGAIN, push the system AGAIN, and then put the TV back in place AGAIN. A sane person would have said, "Maybe I should wait until I have some help." But I said, "Well, I did it once; I can do it again."

I pulled the TV off onto the once again pillowed table. I pushed the entertainment center back about a foot. And then I lifted one end of the TV back up to its spot. I prayed. I lifted it again and then I had a vision... it was of a 5'4" woman on the floor with a 42" TV centered in her chest - the only thing visible was a head, two arms, and 2 legs - flattened... found by her family... once immobilized... now dead. Flash to Jon explaining at the funeral about his wife's early demise. (A quick thought that he had trouble finding a pastor to do the funeral... those of you that know my current situation understand...) Once the vision passed... I realized the depth of my foolishness, but I was at an empass. I couldn't put it back (table was mysteriously moved back too far and the pillow was a nuisance) and, unless I wanted to flatten my stomach with something other than the Wii Fit (which I now blame for this entire incident), I had to get a grip (both literally and metaphorically). Survival mode kicked in and I managed one last burst of power. I swear... God must have thought the whole thing was funny enough to reward me with something other than death. Either that or the fear of humiliation caused a surge of adrenaline.

I shared all this for 2 reasons:
First, never pick up a giant TV alone. DUH!!!!!!!
Second, this is what God said to me: never pick up a giant TV alone.

Okay, He said a little more than that - but He is quite practical. He said, "Do not involve yourself in great matters or in things too difficult for you." This comes from Psalm 131. Let me quote the whole chapter so you'll see the full force. "O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty; nor do I involve myself in great matters, or in things too difficult for me. Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child rests against his mother, my soul is like a weaned child within me. O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forever." There are a lot of verses that might have been equally fitting. For instance, "The way of a fool is right in his own eyes..."; "fools die for lack of understanding..."; or even "do not move the ancient boundary [or entertainment center] which your fathers have set." (Okay, that was a stretch.) I digress. But God chose Psalm 131.

And I know why. There are alot of things that are too great for us - not just 42" TVs. Lately I've had a few of those great things. I've seen my "smallness" in the aftermath. But I think I forgot about my smallness in the middle. Sometimes we think we are more powerful than we are. I've even been so foolish as to think I'm powerful enough to ruin God's reputation. Funny thing is... God's into redeeming the foolish for His own reknown. The injured furniture and somewhat damaged TV will be a reminder to me that not only do I need help, but God says to refuse to ask for it is pride and haughtiness. It's okay to holler in the middle of the crisis, demanding Samsonite strength - but God would rather us curl up in His lap beforehand, discerning what is too great and too difficult from His view.

Sort of wish I had sat "in the heavenlies" with Him, looking at my basement, listening to Him say "that's too difficult for you". Wish I were more able to do that in matters of ministry, in matters of relationships, in times of fear. In the next difficult situation - maybe I can recall the vision of a flattened 5'4" woman and a God who is greater than 42" TVs.


Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Fearing Eli

Some battles are just beyond description. I'm in one. Have you ever been in a situation where you felt called of God to do something that was especially contrary to your personality? God's graced me with a few God moments - times He's spoken to me about the situation, or about my own heart. Minus the feeling though... I miss the "feel" of His presence, but I'm certain that He's here. Like I said... a little beyond description. And I don't like it. Imagine God sending you a note that said, "I want you to hurt someone today." That's not how God does it (or says it), but when God uses you as a human "rod", that's how your heart can interpret it. I tried to skip out on Him in this one - would have been much more comfortable. But if you know Him, though He gives you the choice to obey Him, it's really no choice at all if you truly desire His pleasure.

What God asked of me seemed an extraordinary (and unfair) thing. But it's no more extraordinary than the choices I have to make every day. Will I obey Him when He asks me to forgive? Will I choose Him over my own desires in this moment? Will I lust or will I bow? Will I obey when it's in secret and doesn't seem to "count"?

God has reminded me that sometimes when we're called to do the hard thing, and we know that it's going to cause hurt - God is doing something not only for their healing, but for our own healing. The difficult step of faith is the first step toward our own freedom. Granted, my first step (if the prints be known), look more like ruts where my heels dug in as I was pulled by God. But I moved forward nevertheless. Maybe the next step will be a bit more pronounced as I lay aside my fear of being rejected, my hatred of being misunderstood, and that inkling of desire for self vindication. It's not about them; it's not about me; it's all about God. But it's for them and it's for me. A gift even when it's hard to receive.

I turned to January 30th in "My Utmost for His Highest". It was especially relevant to me today. Remember the story of Samuel and Eli in 1 Sam. 3? Oswald Chambers says this: "God never speaks to us in startling ways, but in ways that are easy to misunderstand, and we say, 'I wonder if that is God's voice?' Isaiah said that the Lord spake to him 'with a strong hand,' that is, by the pressure of circumstances. Nothing touches our lives but it is God Himself speaking. Do we discern His hand or only mere occurrence?... Shall I tell 'Eli' what God has shown to me? That is where the dilemma of obedience comes in. We disobey God by becoming amateur providences - I must shield 'Eli', the best people we know. God did not tell Samuel to tell Eli; he had to decide that for himself. God's call to you may hurt your 'Eli'; but if you try to prevent the suffering in another life, it will prove an obstruction between your soul and God." And there's where the choice is no choice at all, for we can't afford the obstruction between our souls and God. So we hurt our 'Eli' for Him. And for us. Doesn't seem fair. But because I know my God - it's right.


Copyright 2009 Sharon Denise Dorminy

The Whole Gospel and Nothing But The Gospel

Recently I have saturated my mind with some very old sermons written by some awesome gentlemen. They are probably all part of that "great cloud of witnesses" now. VERY old sermons. They proclaim the gospel in ways that I never hear today. "Sin" is a well worn word on their lips. The cross is the central theme of every proclamation. And it's not a "mamby pamby" Christianity. It's an overcoming, conquering faith that inspires belief and hope.

It's not a partial gospel either. It is as if in a 20 minute sermon, the whole gospel and nothing but the gospel rings forth, like a bell sounding a warning, yet bells of celebration. I read a particular sermon from John 3, Nicodemus' encounter with Jesus. I got all "christmasy". No, really! I did.

Seems as a christian, when someone mentions John 3:16, there's an inner moan; a heart betrayal that says it's so simple, it's trite. But here is the thing: it's in the context of verse 10. "Jesus answered and said to him, 'Are you the teacher of Israel and do not understand these things?'" We're so smart, we're stupid. Our so-called maturity blinds us to the fullness of the gospel.

I read through the chapter and thought about the sermon. There's an acknowledgement of God being greater than us.
There's an ultimatum: No kingdom unless you are born again.
And not just any kind of birth, but birth in the Spirit.
Listen to this cool statement (this is why I got all christmasy). "No one has ascended into heaven, but He who descended from heaven: the Son of Man." And so the King of all Kings condescends to become a baby. As sure as His birth, was His death. "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up." Why? LOVE. For God so loved... And as sure as His birth and His death, was His ascension. A resurrection of power that shook hell and opened heaven for those who believe. And a glorious ascension back to the right hand of the Father.

So for those who believe, the Holy Spirit condescends to live in us, the residence of the gospel of His grace. I find irony in Nicodemus' name. As the wise men who came to Jesus at his birth with gifts of frankincense and myrrh, we see the wise man Nicodemus bringing myrrh in preparation for Jesus' burial. Kind of hint that Nicodemus believed. Truly jolly ole Saint Nic. :)


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Christmas Poem

With childlike faith I scribbled my note

and sealed it with a kiss.

All red and green with

wishes and dreams,

I mailed to Santa my list.

Each Christmas came and with it gifts,

some sought and some not.

Tin doll house,

a “Timey Tell” doll,

some loved;  some that time forgot.

With each breath held and gift opened

this secret hope did yearn:

that I had been

good enough to get

the gifts I’d tried to earn.

Not just Santa I wanted to please,

but  the dad behind the beard.

To gain a nod,

a smile at best,

my sweetest prize from year to year.

With childlike faith I received a note,

a book signed in love.

All red and black,

truth front to back,

a promise from Father above.

And on that day He came with gifts

that by His Son’s blood He’d bought.

Garments of salvation,

faith, fruit, and life,

love and plans beyond my thought.

These gifts He freely gave to me,

and yet I still did yearn

to be the child

good enough to keep

these gifts I never could earn.

I sweated and worked hard to please

the Presence behind the present.

To gain a nod,

a smile at best,

through works of flesh and conscience.

By works and strife – myself betrayed,

for I could not get it right.

In frustrated angst,

in pride I tried

to tame myself by self’s might.

And then like Christmas morn’ again,

with childlike faith could see

I held a beautiful, long unopened  gift

now revealed in me:  freedom’s  key.

For in the Gift of God’s sweet Son

comes the fullness of His grace

to fill me up,

to set me free

to walk in God’s rest of faith.

Joy spilling forth from deep within,

this Gift in me aptly fit

to be my strength,

my crown, my all,

all year long my Christmas Spirit.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Come Thou Fount

     If you haven't read "The Appointment" from last week, this might be a bit weird. So, if you have a few minutes, I'd suggest taking a look at last week's blog. Thanks!

     Why this song? Sometimes when God puts something in me, it doesn't come out the same way it got in. [grin] This may be one of those times, so hang with me.

     Hang around me for any length of time and the scripture that will most pour out of my mouth is 2 Peter 1:3. It says that God's "divine power has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness through the true knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence." In Christ, I am blessed with every spiritual blessing. He has indeed, by the indwelling Holy Spirit, given me all that I need to live a godly life, an abundant life. He is the fountain of living water that endues us with every blessing... "Come Thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing Thy grace."

     As this song washed over me in the car that day, I seemed to understand afresh that my appropriation of His blessings and of the power to do His will... comes by grace through faith. It's a never-ending, ever-flowing stream of grace and mercy. The roar of the fountain calls us to unabashed adoration and praise. "Streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise. Teach me some melodious sonnet sung by flaming tongues above."

     And this stream of grace and mercy comes from the mountain of God, "praise the mount - I'm fixed upon it - mount of Thy redeeming love." Straight from the cross, His love and grace flow down to us. I was thinking about when Jon and I are in a public place. When I don't know anyone (at least not well), I fix my eyes on Jon and I am comforted by his love for me. And my adoration for him seems to swell. He becomes a source for my need. So it is with the love of God. When I've fixed my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of my faith, I am assured of my belovedness and comforted in the heat of life by His love and grace.
"Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by Thy help I'm come." Thus far the Lord has helped me. If you read the "crutches" blog, I need not expound. Each Ebenezer is a reminder to me that I am not alone; that this particular journey is where I'm being led, not aimless wanderings on trails that lead to nowhere. Being a former "people pleaser", and as one who does amazing mental gymnastics to be able to say "former", I've been known to worry more about what other people think about where God is leading me rather than just walking the walk with God for the pleasure of His company. Silly, I know. Those outside the window of my life right now might think I took a path to a dead end. I could see how they might think that. But if there were a roadsign at this place I stand, I believe it would read "yield". And I'm yielding (albeit with some difficulty) because thus far, the Lord has helped me. And thus far He has led me. Truly it is for the pleasure of His company that I follow and it is His good pleasure to lead. "And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home."

     "Jesus sought me when a stranger, wand'ring from the fold of God. He, to rescue me from danger, interposed His precious blood." I love that word: interposed. I double checked the meaning (okay - so I'm a geek). It means "to bring to bear between two parties; to put between or in the way of." Christ, my redeemer, stands between God and me. His precious blood interposed, brought to bear, on my sin to reconcile me with my God.

     And what a debt I owe to Jesus, who is grace and truth! "O to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be!" The word that God put in my spirit in that spiritual brat moment came straight from this line of song. "What does it mean to be constrained as a debtor to His grace daily?" In my heart rang this verse: "You have been severed from Christ, you who are seeking to be justified by law; you have fallen from grace." (Galatians 5:4) How easily deceived I can be - thinking that I could be saved by grace yet sanctified by works. It's not something I do consciously. Sort of like sweeping the floor, filling the bucket, pouring in the cleaner, and remembering you don't have a mop. I start out well, but I'm powerless in the middle of it. Without His grace, I'm power poor. In my own self-effort, I cut myself off from Christ and fall far from His grace. Picture yourself trapped on a cliff. There's a rope anchored above. You are tied into the rope. Someone is lifting you to the top of the mountain by the rope. For a moment you're stopped, suspended between the start and the finish. You take out your knife, cut the rope, drop painfully to the ledge and, scraped and bruised, begin the long climb on your own. You have fallen from grace; you haven't trusted in the salvation (which includes sanctification) that lifts you to the heights of Jesus' righteousness. We are debtors, constrained daily by the bonds of grace, compelled to trust in the righteousness of Christ and in the goodness of God to bring us safely to Himself. Every moment of self-trust is a knife that severs the bonds of His grace. "Let Thy goodness, like a fetter (a chain, shackle, rope), bind my wand'ring heart to Thee." [It certainly does wander every now and then.] What truth will keep me chained? God is good. God is good to me. God's plan is good for me.

     "Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love. Here's my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above." And my heart sings, "Amen!"

     Amazing what a spiritual brat can receive, even in the midst of a less than holy fit, if she'll just grab hold of the rope.

Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

The Appointment

      God seems to make appointments for us. We show up on time, not even knowing that the moment was on the calendar. We are unaware of its significance until we are in the middle of it. I had such an appointment recently, not knowing that my moment began a year ago or so.

     On my last trip to Oklahoma, a friend of mine had given me some music CD’s she had put together. They were her favorites. To be honest, they got laid aside when I got home. I don’t know why. I just set them on the shelf and they got moved and removed. Removed from the shelf and removed from my mind. [Frankly, my mind is more easily dusted.]

     I was readying for a trip to my brother’s house in Ohio. I like to fill the console of my car with my favorite music. While hunting them down, I ran across the misplaced CD’s and mixed them in with my choices. And I hit the road.

      I’m one of Father’s little spiritual brats. I readily admit it. Not proud of it, but it is what it is. I also take very literally the word that says, “Come boldly before the throne of grace.” Boldly means “to speak your mind.” And, because I’ve never been one to be belligerent with others, I seize opportunities to be a brat before the Lord. I’m a tattler… and a whiner. Somehow alone time in the car liberates me to this sort of tomfoolery. I know that I am supposed to have a holy fear toward God, but in my intimate times of desperation, this concept escapes me.

     Of late, I’ve been in sort of a “forced” solitude. Whether the season of my life, or God’s deliberate removal of those things that distract me, solitude has felt like a prison. I was sharing with God that I feel cut off; removed from the rest of the body of Christ. And God has also been disturbingly silent. It’s not been unusual for God to drop an occasional word down into my spirit. That seems to have stopped. I’ve had ears to hear, but He hasn’t seemed inclined to speak to me. Whether you term it a wilderness experience, or whether you think it is the reward of disobedience, it still bites. So, because I often think that I am powerful enough to force God to do my will [please note the wincing grin on my face], I turned off the radio in the car and demanded in my brattiest tone for God to speak to me. I told Him I just needed Him to “drop a word” into my spirit so that I know that He’s still speaking to me and that I can still hear Him. I told him that I wasn’t going to turn the radio back on until He did. [Which I’m sure made Him rush to the edge of heaven in a panic!] Sarcasm aside, I sat in silence for quite some time. Ten minutes feels like an eternity when you’re throwing a fit.
In the eternal quiet of my 10 minutes, I began singing. The tune was “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing”. I only knew a few of the words. But for some reason, the song felt significant, like my answer was in it somewhere. Almost as if God had waited for the strong wind, the earthquake, and the fire to be done [see 1 Kings 19), and the gentle blowing came through the song. I didn’t instantly recognize it. In fact, I got frustrated and gave up. I reached over and picked up one of the CD’s that my friend had given me. The speakers blared with the raspy voice of David Crowder calling for the crowd to sing a hymn with him. “Come Thou fount of every blessing; tune my heart to sing Thy praise…” The voice washed over me as if it were God Himself. And the gentle blowing of His Spirit whispered “this is your answer, child. Now just stop and know that I am enough.” I had to pull the car over for a few minutes. Gentle humbling forces compulsory reverence.

     I sat in awe that God put into motion October 24th, 2008 sometime in 2007. That’s bizarre, isn’t it? Even more incredible is the fact that God loves me enough to move in and through my life that intimately. He even puts CD’s on hold for the moment they are most needed. He knew in advance that I would be right here, in this frustrating place, and He knew that I would be griping. If He purposes moments like this in my life… He purposes them in yours as well. His grace and mercy blows my mind.
So… why that particular song? Next blog…


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Gems N More

I'm about to begin a discourse that's liable to make it fully known what many have privately surmised: the girl is bizarre.
I have the privilege of living near the D.C. area. Sometimes it still blows me away that I, within the space of 2 hours, can be on the mall of the Nation's capital. Despite my nomadic upbringing, I've always considered Oklahoma to be home and never dreamed I'd be sitting on this side of the continent. I recently took a day trip with my son (Luke) and his friend. I am the designated tour guide (a role that I love) and we toured the American Art Museum as well as the Museum of Natural History.

So Luke and friend headed off to the IMAX theatre. I headed to the "gems and minerals" exhibit. Sounds thrilling, doesn't it? Oh, I didn't bypass the "jewel" section and the "Hope Diamond". :) But I am utterly fascinated by gems in their original forms. Before I headed there, I took a second look at a passage of scripture that makes my imagination bug out.

"The material of the wall was jasper; and the city was pure gold, like clear glass. The foundation stones of the city wall were adorned with every kind of precious stone. The first foundation stone was jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, chalcedony; the fourth, emerald; the fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolite; the eighth, beryl; the ninth, topaz; the tenth, chrysoprase; the eleventh, jacinth; the twelfth, amethyst."

Maybe that does absolutely nothing for you, but I looked for those "precious stones" in the museum. I saw the raw material of someday polished gems. My experience that day was nothing less than worship. Not of the stones themselves, but of a God who sees into the depths of the earth. I wondered at the day that He created it. We look at the earth in greens and browns. But God paints from the pallet of deepest blues, richest reds, brightest yellows and greens, clearest pinks and purples, every hue imaginable in every depth from transparent to darkest ebony. And He does it in the depths of the earth... in secret.

I went from window to window, "rock" to "rock", overwhelmed with the diversity and imagination of a God who would form something so awe-inspiring without the "ahhhhh" of an audience. Instead, we drill and dig. We mine for them... hidden treasures of beauty and value.

I've no words to describe the rush in my spirit. I didn't have words that day. But something did happen. I had an overwhelming response in my heart, a compulsion that started deep within and wanted to flow right out of my fingers. I had an overwhelming desire to applaud. It was unbearable.
I looked around. I was surrounded by unsuspecting people, including "guards". Stoics walking around making certain that no one misbehaved. And there I was... wanting to call for applause. Wanting to scream "HE DESERVES YOUR PRAISE... ADORE YOUR CREATOR... ARE YOU NOT AMAZED AT HIS WONDERS?"

I regret that I let my sensibilities stifle my compulsory worship. Instead of all out applause, I put my hands in front of me and silently clapped for the Creator of the Universe and whispered, "Praise You, Most High! Praise You, my Creator! Aren't You just the most beautiful One! I adore You. Thank You." And so it went. My hands clapping together so that no one could hear but the ear of the Most High God. If someone caught a glimpse of me, they might of thought I had an irritating little habit or tic. They might of thought "that girl needs a friend... look at her talking to herself." But that was all the restraint I could muster. And now I sort of wish I had been absolutely looney for Him. Sometimes it's important to be foolish.

I've thought about that moment a lot this week. And God has built upon the worship to teach me. Sometimes it's the hidden places that He does His most astonishing works of beauty. It's in the seemingly insignificant seasons and places that His creativity flourishes. I wonder... in those disconnected times of our lives when we feel forgotten and unvalued, when we feel our loneliest, when dreams are dying and time is barely moving... is God dealing with the infrastructure? Is He reaching into the depths of who we are and fashioning something to be dug up later. Something of beauty. Something beyond beautiful. Something that, when it's revealed in us for others to finally see, they will stare wide-eyed and say "Oh, look at His wonders!" His wonders in us. His glory in us. In those times is He fashioning worth and deepest hues of character, transforming a rock into a jewel? A jewel that will eventually be unearthed to the glory of His name in us.
I marveled at His word. Just a few verses after the ones quoted above (Revelation 21:18-20), verses 23 and 24 say this: "And the city has no need of the sun or of the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God has illumined it, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it." The Son shines on us and we bring His glory into the kingdom.

You should have seen the way those "rocks" sparkled. Awesome. (Applause, applause, applause!)


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Going For the Silver

I watched the women’s gymnastics last night (2008 Olympics). I loved gymnastics as a kid. I was average. I could do a mean walk-over and my splits were nothing to scoff at. But I watch with jaw-dropped awe at the skill of these women.

I’ve never been much for competition either. I don’t like the whole “stone in the stomach” feeling, either for myself or for anyone else. And that’s what I felt last night. Alicia was ready. She prepared. She had done that routine countless times and nailed it countless times. And her mount on the beam was no easy feat! (No pun intended!) It’s not natural to hit a board, spring into the air, somersault and land solid on a 4” wide beam. She paced and was forced to wait for much too long before her trial came. Her team was praying. Her team was counting on her score. Gold was attainable. In fact, it was probable.

One fall. That’s all it took. And it simply snowballed from there. I watched her finish her routine with a stone-faced look of resolve. She had trouble lifting her eyes to look in the faces of her team and audience. I saw her kneel, hands in a praying position. Don’t know if she was praying as much as she was regretting. She had one more event and she was encouraged to “forget it” and move to the next one.

Another event. Another fall. A huge step out of bounds.

You could visibly see the shame taking its ground in her countenance. The heaviness of it looked unbearable to me. I wondered at her composure. My heart broke for her. Oddly, my empathy wasn’t really because of her “failure”. I certainly know what it means to fail. I certainly know the feeling of public humiliation. I’m no stranger to public shame and self-condemnation.

No, what struck me with sadness was that she didn’t have permission to celebrate. Something wonderful happened last night. The US Women’s Gymnastics Team won a Silver Medal. Alicia one a silver medal. And deservedly. Alicia just had a bad day yesterday. And on her bad day, she received a silver reward.

I’m not an unusually profound person. But I thought of a scripture at the end of China’s celebration, and by the way, those little girls were astounding! Silvr and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee. I thought Alicia could enjoy this night if she could, in this very moment -  right now, receive what only One has to offer: grace. Like the wrap put tightly on her leg for added support, grace would wrap her heart and hold her. It doesn’t really help to say “shake it off, forget about it, you can’t change it anyway, move on”. I’ve heard all those before. Haven’t you? And were you able? I‘m really not. The more I try to forget, the more I stress over it. The more I try to rationalize and convince myself that the unchangeable is in the past, the more I focus on “what ifs” and the bigger the tizzy I get into. The more I try to move on, the more my engine stalls. No, willing a frame of mind just doesn’t seem to do it.

But grace… grace says, “accept it.”  It says, “hold this moment in your heart even though it hurts.” And most importantly, grace says, “Now, this is the truth; yes, that happened, but YOU are what I cherish! YOU are valuable! More valuable than gold and  more valuable than the silver that hangs around your neck. YOU are loved and known and fully received, not your performance. Grace says, “maybe next time, maybe not; either way, I love you.”

I thought about my “Alicia moments” last night. I recalled those nights where I could only focus on the gold that was lost. Though the grace was offered, I couldn’t open my hands to receive it. The shame seemed more appropriate, I guess. It’s our just reward for poor performance’ especially when our poor performance plays out in a public forum.

But now, as I look back at huge failures that have finally felt the deep-heat rub of God’s grace, I’m able to humbly accept them as part of my own eternal Olympic experience. They don’t have even the wince of shame anymore. They are what they are, and I still hold the silver from them. There’s a hard-earned reward that comes with failures finally owned. Don’t hear much from the silver medal winners. Not a whole lot of boasting goin’ on with them. Maybe it’s the bitter-sweetness of winning in the losing.

Makes me want to open my hands though. Open my hands and receive the grace of God for this day and the quiet little failures no one “ooooohhhhhed” over. The private races where I’ve come short of the gold. The private races where really, truth be known, I didn’t medal at all. I’m thrilled that God isn’t counting the medals around my neck. He’s more apt to count the scrapes and scars on my knees. It’s a comfort to a beloved stumbling eternal Olympian.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Crutch Free... Just Me... Oh Gee...

**I believe that God sometimes peels truths like an onion for us. Though we know them, we know them more deeply, and more deeply, and more deeply... this testimony is one of those.

We have lots of wonderful changes happening in our household. Luke is entering college. Jonathon is moving on campus and in the middle of wedding plans. There's excitement. There's stress. There's intense joy. There's fear. These are the things in life that most of us await with hopeful anticipation, me included.

Yet yesterday I was overwhelmed by a wave of loneliness, or maybe something deeper. An old familiar feeling of being in something so big that you're not known. Insignificance. I saw the last year and a half in a fast rewind. Moments with God where I knew He was asking me to let go of something. A leadership role, a teaching role, another leadership role, a job, material security, a daughter (who moved out of state), home security, another teaching role, a fellowship, sons... areas in my life that I invested in. Plowed and seeded. Areas that I found some sense of satisfaction, purpose, value. Significance.

So I'm mulling... and I get this picture. There I am with a golf bag. [No, I'm not a golfer, but I play one on Wii. :)]
Forgive the digression. There I am with a golf bag. A heavy one. It is filled with crutches. Picture them labeled with all of the aforementioned things I was asked to let go of. And I'm walking alongside Jesus. He says to me, "Child, you're stumbling." I say, "Oh, right..." and I grab a crutch out of the bag and try walking on the rocky terrain still carrying my crutches. There is this huge desire in my heart to please the one I'm walking with. I'm doing my best to keep up. After all, He invited me to walk with Him and to serve Him. In fact, most of these things were gifts from Him in the first place. They are not sins. They are places of service, relationships of value, needs God faithfully met... focal points of my heart.

So I pull out my crutch, that focal point that keeps me busy or helps me to feel needed or makes me feel valued, and walk alongside Jesus with a "watch me... aren't you pleased... how am I doing...aren't you proud?" I've systematically watched God remove each crutch from under my arm as if to say, "try the next one, Child. You're still stumbling." I put my weight on each one of those things in hopes that they would make me walk upright, make me walk with my head up... in hopes that I would somehow be the special one in His sight and maybe in the sight of others.

The truth is: nothing makes us feel that grand sense of significance for long. We might get so good with our crutch that we gain some applause in ministry. We might actually get good enough that others may choose to follow us. We might gain value from being the hub, the one others come to for advice. Even the crutch of busyness or a career or family fun can help for awhile. Eventually, none of them make us walk whole and upright. We're reallly just stumbling under the load of 3 feet rather than 2.

In my picture, I get down to the very last crutch... and God asks for it too. I'm standing exhausted with an empty golf bag and nothing left to fill it. Just me and Jesus. I stop and set the bag to the side of the path and continue to walk next to Him. He says to me, "Your stumbling..." At this point, I'm left with nothing to do, no focal point to take my mind off my stumbling. No focal point to rationalize my stumbling. No focal point to be the silver bullet that will finally make me significant. Empty handed.

And I could see His face. "Your stumbling..." wasn't said with anger or disappointment. It was meant only as an observation... only to help me to see my own state. It was a mere fact. I can see the compassion in His face... "Denise, your stumbling..."

The last crutch gone I felt despairing, done with... shelved. How can I walk on when I've nothing to do for Him (no bag to carry)and no way to keep from stumbling (no crutch - no heart focal point to make me signficant)?

The scene in my mind went to a man running. He had just done mighty things in the name of God. He was afraid. He was alone. He found a juniper tree, sat down, begged to die, and went to sleep. And God said to Elijah, "Arise and eat."
And He had prepared for Him a meal, gave Him more rest, and the next day again said to him, "Arise and eat. You'll need strength for the journey." I wondered about him. Did the big thing he did "for God" not fill Him up either? Had his heart focused on the call instead of the Caller like mine has so often done? Where were his crutches? Had he just used his last one? "Arise and eat." And He gave him bread and water. He gave him Himself, the Bread of Life and Living Water. And His Presence was to be enough to strengthen him for the journey.

Yesterday as I stood there in His presence, I realized that the removal of my crutches was God's mercy to me. With each one pulled from my hand, my Lord was saying, "I love you, child, but this is not why...You're important to me child, but this isn't the reason... You matter to Me, but not because of this..." I stood there with nothing... just me... oh gee. I sunk to my knees and realized I'm a beloved stumbler. I realized that walking with Him is to be for the pleasure of His company. And I had His presence near me all along. What makes any of us subconsciously pursue the attention of God? What makes us beg quietly in our spirit with everything that we do: "Oh God, please notice me"? We have never gone unnoticed.

Humbly stationed on my knees, aware of all my frailty, aware of the insanity from which I finally woke, His word pierced my heart.

"...but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful [crutch removal can be a bumber], but sorrowful [sometimes to the point that you find yourself under a juniper tree]. Yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. Therefore [Denise], strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble [yep, your a stumbler], and make straight paths for your feet, so that the limb which is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed."

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

And then finally, "Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in the presence of His glory blameless with great joy..."

"You're stumbling." "Oh, right..." And then deep within my heart I heard the appropriate response. "Nevertheless You, Lord, are continually with me; You have taken hold of my right hand. With Your counsel You will guide me and afterward receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, but You are the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Your nearness is my good. I will make You my refuge so I can tell of all of Your works along the way."

I think I actually heard Him say to me: "Denise, You matter to me. If I never let you lead, teach, serve, or do for Me ever again... will my love for You and My presence, My company, be enough?"

Crutch free... just me... oh gee. I still matter to Him.
And besides You, I desire nothing on earth, Lord.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy

Sporting A Toe Tag

BLAM Jonathon! [Thats my #1Son - does anyone else have Charlie Chan running through their grey matter?] I was right and you, Jonathon, were _______ (humbly fill in the blank). I wasn’t fooling! Toe tags are real. Checked it out on Wikipedia! Used to tie to the big toe of a corpse for identification. (FYI it’s no longer done that way.) Sorry to those of you who just tuned in so let me fill you in.

We heard a fabulous message by a local pastor this Sunday. It was called CSI: Crime of Passion. Instead of focusing on the death of Christ, his emphasis was on the death we each died with Christ. As a reminder, he handed out tags with Galatians 2:20 written on them. “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me.” I shared with Jonathon (after the message because I know proper church etiquette.  Don’t be so shocked!) that I am keeping mine as it is my spiritual toe tag. He asked, “What’s a toe tag?” I defined. He defied. And thus this blog!

BLAM again! I just like mimicking #1Son. My toe tag is a simple reminder that the old is dead and that Christ now lives in me. A simple reminder to believe and to live as risen. Indeed!
That’s the tough part, isn’t it? Believing I am in Him in the moment that my flesh says “I”, “me”, “my”, “my rights”, “my wants”, I’m sure I speak for some of us (trying to play fair) that we often forget that we wear the marks of a cross and that we have died to sin, that sin no longer has mastery over us. Though it certainly seems to have a voice in this body of mine, I need not heed it. It’s “not the boss of me.” And so I bear my toe tag.  It is the mark of an old identity that no longer remains, that was killed in the agony of the passion of Christ. Jesus put to death for my crime; the old self put to death for His joy. Certainly not a fair exchange.

Since I can’tt really walk around with the tag tied to my big toe (though I fancy Ezekiel would have done it!), I’ve tied it to my writing bag (if you know me, I need not explain). It is not just a reminder (shame on me for ever needing one) of my death to sin, but a reminder for me to daily live to walk fully by faith in the grace and power of His Spirit.


Copyright 2008 Sharon Denise Dorminy