Having Truth Separated From Feeling

This has been an interesting thought I've had lately, that the things you know, the truth, can be far separated from the things you feel. Like sometimes the two don't go hand and hand even though they exist simultaneously in the same body.

For me, I'm so used to stuffing down issues so that I don't have to think about them. But the issue with this lies in the fact that while I know the truth and think that I'm walking in it, I can still be reacting from how I feel. It just takes something that may trigger it without my knowledge for me to act upon my instincts, so to speak, instead of walking from a place of truth, even when I know the truth.

An example I can think of this is a dog. He may be well trained. He may be a good dog. But out of the blue one day he attacks someone for some unknown reason. He knows better. In that moment though, he can't separate the things he's learned, the things he knows, from the way he feels.

We can all be like this. Can't identify the truth because we are running on feeling. Anxiety dwells in places like this. Anxiety can be well hidden until it isn't. Anxiety can cover the truth and cause reactions that surprise even ourselves. 

So how do we change this? Allow healing in those inner most parts. Ask God to begin to reveal to you the areas that cause the responses, and then begin looking up Bible verses to combat those feelings. The truths in the Bible bring healing. And ask God to do His good work in those areas as hard as that may feel and as much as that seems that it may hurt, I promise, it'll be worth it.

The Holy Spirit is so gentle, and He'll work with you at a pace that will not harm you, but will bring you blessing and freedom.

Pursue that freedom!!

Skipping Steps

I was thinking and praying on something today, asking God to guide my steps, taking them one at a time on this journey that I am on. And yet, a funny revelation struck me... I like to skip steps. When I walk up stairs, I usually tend to skip one or more on my way up. I really don't like taking them one at a time.

I think this ironic thought was His way of reminding me that life's not always going to go smoothly, moving ahead sometimes isn't one step at a time, as mind easing as that can feel. That I'm only expected to go one step at a time makes looking ahead easier.

But the reality to that matter is that you may just skip steps here and there to get to the destination faster and if God's the one guiding you to skip those steps all the better. He knows the pace I need to move at. He knows the movements I need to make and the progress needed to get there. So if I get to skip a few steps, well, hopefully I'll enjoy it!

Not a Prodigal Identity

When reading the story of the prodigal son, most people say the younger son, the one who demands his inheritance early, is the 'lost son'. But prodigal by definition means "recklessly wasteful, or to squander." So this son, who is indeed lost by the father's own admission at the end of the story ("this son of mine who was once lost is now found"), has by his own choosing, lost his identity as a son of his father and instead taken on the identity of one who is reckless and wasteful. 

Not known, chosen, cherished or loved. 

And in the process of this pushing away from his father, he loses himself. He loses his purpose, his calling, and again, his very identity.

He has traded the life he once lived to become eventually become worthless, unimportant, and poor. 

But his loving father knows something he does not. That the world is not a nice place. And that despite his faults, his ill choices, he is still the son of his father. Nothing can change this. His status as his father's son does not change. The value that that very statement holds does not wane.

He is his father's child, who loves him with a love that is immeasurable.

So upon his return, what a surprise that his father would lavish him with such love, as to re-establish all that had been formerly lost. To draw him back to his side, and claim his identity has not been tarnished.

It's the same for us. When our poor choices push God away from us, he waits us out. When we figuratively wander the streets, looking for our next meal, and longing for the day when we were by God's side, He's there just waiting for us to return home. 

And upon that return? Re-uniting ourselves with Him, He re-establishes the connection we have assuring our identity in Him.

The Father-child identity.

A King's kid.

Authorized to stand before the throne.

Assured of the ability - the right - to ask for guidance and direction, comfort and protection.

Known. Chosen. Cherished. Loved.

Consider Peter

"Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers." - Luke 22:31-32

Consider Peter here… Jesus calls him Simon instead of the name He gave him, the Rock, the one He would build His church on.

Satan has asked to sift them all like wheat. Peter and the others aren't even who God has intended for them to be. But they are on their journey, they are on their way. And it is noticed by Satan. How could he not see? And so like Job, he asks God if he can challenge them all. He can't see the future, but he has an inkling of an idea of what God could do through them.

"Can I put them through the wringer? Can I should you how weak they are? How they will fail you?"

He already had Judas. Why not go for the other eleven as well.

It seems to me that God said yes to this testing. Because Jesus says, “when you have turned back, strengthen your brethren."

Can you hear Jesus’ silent admission? You Peter, you are faithful. I know you’ll pass this test. I know that despite the stumble, you’ll be back. 

Failure is never failure if it grows us. Failure cannot define us. Failure can only temporarily weaken us. 

But failure can be meant to destroy us. It can be meant to be it our undoing. But the faithful, like Peter, find their way back. Stronger than before and then given the opportunity to strengthen others.

Consider Peter.