Tag: healing

Wind and Fire

Upon reflection, I must disagree with you.
The Spirit still comes with wind and fire
To those who need His mighty touch,
Whether we are babes or long in the faith.
He is the I AM after all is said and done…
Great in power, mighty in deed,
Overwhelmingly here when He is manifestly present.
I will not dispute that He comes,
Quietly whispering peace to the soul’s distress,
But all of us need His unmistakable touch at some point,
To a degree that we cannot contain our reaction
Within some meekly restrained outward appearance of calm.
To rigidly constrain the Spirit as He flows through us
Is to quench the work that He is doing in us.

More times than not these days,
I find myself sitting still beneath His weightiness,
His unmoving, “I-AM-doing-something? presence.
I weep with the outpouring of His healing oil on me.
Even so, on occasion the sense of HIM, here,
Causes me to let go of my physical restraints
Till I am drunk with divine wine, and
He graces my soul with the joy of easy laughter.
Sometimes, the electrical shock of Spirit meeting flesh
Shakes me all over until my flesh submits and
The Spirit has His healing, life-changing way with me.

When He is done, I am more myself than before…
Just a little more light of heart, a little more rich with Him,
A little more deeply rooted in His all-sufficient grace.
There is no more refreshing experience
Than to be overcome by the Holy Spirit’s power,
But it is not the experience itself that is refreshment.
It is His explicit manifest presence and
My submission of self with all its flaws
So that I may know Him in the power of His resurrection,
As well as I am coming to know Him
In the fellowship of His suffering.

Morning Sky

Fingers of the morning sun pierce the clouds,
Like Your hand extended over the landscape,
Hovering above us all as sweet reminder of
Your goodness, Lord…
Your mercy, Lord…
Your continual grace that allows us to
Begin each new day with Your breath of life.
The deeply blue-gray clouds outlined
With golden filaments of light
Starkly contrasts pale blue-white sky
Like the wounded world against the healing heavens…
All held together in Your palm.

Called and Chosen

It’s very obvious to all who know you—
The stirring in your heart,
The deep longing of your soul
To win the lost.
Holy Spirit moves and you respond
With tearful intercession,
With passionate desire
To see all of us reaching out as you do.
It’s a marvel to my being—
This change in you so amazing(!)
That you are not who you were
Before Father spoke to you.
I can but rejoice and pray
That God will stir me up again
So I might intercede
For continued change in both of us and
Healing for the nations.

Wasted

I’m here again, Lord,
Wasted at your feet,
Spent in grief and sorrow,
Still clinging…
Somehow.
I feel like the woman
With the issue of blood…
Years deep in this insanity
Some would call my life.
I need you desperately!
This healing thing takes forever.
Though I reach for you,
Though I touch your robe,
It seems my faith is not enough.
I have cried;
You have answered.
I have fallen;
You have caught me.
Still, in many ways, Lord,
I feel as broken as ever.
What healing?
What faith?
What rest is there to find?
I wander the world
Seeking answers.
All I know is you…
You ought to be enough for me!
Please, Holy Spirit,
Refill me with your Living Water
As I am parched
In a desert place,
In a dark place—
The only Light within,
And yet…
I somehow trust you anyway.
I will cling and not let go
Until there is healing
For me,
For my children,
For those whose lives I touch.
Oh God, please hear my cry.
Pour through me
Your love and restorative power.

Shadows On The Water

I stand, anger in hand, covered in
The tattered remains of my self-worth.
The futility of banging my fist against
The stone wall of another’s hostility and unforgiveness
Leaves me breathless and beaten and worn,
Wondering when, or if, things will change.
No matter how big the anger or
How hard the beating,
Things remain the same, or nearly so,
That they have always been.
The rebounding of my fistful of wrath
Only bruises my soul and batters my spirit.

Somewhere in the dark realms,
A part of me is screaming for release
From the bonds of my own unforgiveness.
God knows I have tried to let things go,
To feel, to work through, to release anger…
But the more I let go of, the more I find,
Until I am foundering and gasping for air.
People tell me, and I have heard it
Many times before, that I must find healing,
That I must feel, and work through, and let go of
All the anger inside of me.

I have wept repentance repeatedly.
I have cried forgiveness over and over again.
I have prayed for healing and deliverance and release.
I have given all I know how to give of myself
Toward this fantastical end-goal of wholeness.
A lifetime of habitual grieving for the loss of
More than I can bear to think of, takes its toll.
I am blind and cannot see, deaf and cannot hear,
Lame and cannot walk even one more step
Down this road of hardship and struggle,
But the frustrating part is that
I have given up before.
So, how many times must I die like this
Before some freedom comes?

I cry to You, O Lord,
Yet still the wicked triumph over me.
I fight with shadows on the water.
How long, my God, must I wait for help?
Hope escapes me, despair overwhelms me, and
I am a stupid, helpless child again,
Waiting for some sign of salvation to come.
Sometimes all I can see is futility.
I cannot even see You these days.
I affect a façade of calmness and peace
In some vain effort to make it so—
Despite my feelings of panic and fear.
Tomorrow… I wonder, will it happen?
All that I dread hangs waiting in the wings,
Weighting the balance of my emotions
Toward the expectation of loss.

What more can I say?
This, I feel. This, I despise about myself:
These feelings of anger, despair, and hopelessness
Make me feel foolish in the face of truth.
Truth is that You are…
That You are good and just and merciful.
Your patience is endless and
My impatience is fruitless.
So, while all that I feel stacks up into a mountain,
Your TRUTH is the snow that covers it,
Smoothing all the jagged edges that hurt me
Into a great, white blanket of hope.

Even though I feel so much,
I stand silenced by magnificence and
I say with Job,
“I have uttered what I did not understand,
Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know…
I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear,
But now my eye sees You.
Therefore I abhor myself,
And repent in dust and ashes.?
Healing will come and the anger will go,
Though I do not know how or when.
Still, I choose to trust You again and
Release my struggles with watery shadows
Into Your graceful hands.
Once more, O LORD, I say,
“You… are… my… God!?

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