Can Your Faith Fail?

This is the title of a book by Charles Capps that I spied atop my parents' file cabinet this evening while stopping by for a visit. I thought it a very curious and intriguing book title, considering all that I've been going through for the past few years. I intended to bring it home with me to read in the hopes of gaining some insight on my own faith.

As I sat in my room pondering the book's title and asking all the questions one asks when you don't see immediate responses to your prayers, insight came.

Can your faith fail? No, never. Whether you're believing in good or evil, expecting a favorable outcome or an unfavorable outcome, your faith always work. Be it unto you according as you have believed.

Live. Grow Stronger. Fight Another Day.

I don't watch very much television nowadays, but there was a time when I did. Among one of my favorite programs was Highlander: The Series. If you've never seen it, you should check it out. It's about a race of immortals competing, in rather bloody fashion, for the ultimate prize: dominion of the earth and mankind.

I love the historical aspects of the series as it travels through time exploring significant events like the Crusades, the French Revolution, the American Revolution, the Civil War, the Salem witch hunts, the Jazz Renaissance in Paris, from the perspective of the immortals. I also liked watching the ever-eternal battle of good versus evil. Plus, the series was filmed partly in Paris, and what woman doesn't like Paris! Ooh, la, la! The series' hero is Duncan McLeod, an extremely handsome, moral, yet flawed, immortal who really wants no part in the battle—over the centuries he's grown tired of all the bloodshed—but soon realizes that by remaining on the sidelines, he allows the evil that he abhors among some of his fellow immortals to flourish.

While I enjoyed watching the character of Duncan battle his external and internal demons every week (something each of us does daily), one of my favorite characters in the series is the immortal named Methos, brilliantly played by actor the enigmatic Peter Wingfield. Methos is initially revealed to be a 5,000 year-old immortal, who disguises himself as university graduate student named, of course, Adam. But as the series progresses, it's later revealed that his true age is unknown. It's hinted that he may have been alive during the time of Methusaleh. (Definitely a topic for another post because, really, because I cannot even imagine it—what does a 900+ year old man look like?)

My affinity toward Methos was immediate, from his first appearance when—in the actor's perfectly beautiful British accent—he utters one of the most awesome lines of the series: "Remember, Highlander: Live. Grow stronger. Fight another day." (Actually, he utters a number of awesome lines during the series' run, many of which make me swoon. Fellas try this one on for size when trying to secure a date and the woman asks why you want to go out with her: "Because the alternative is unthinkable." If you can say it with a British accent, trust me on this, that date is yours!)
Live. Grow stronger. Fight another day.

Awesomely, powerful words from an unlikely source. They are among my arsenal of affirmations to get through life's rough patches. When the trials and challenges of life threaten to pull me under, these words are my call-to-arms, awakening the warrior spirit in me.They help restore my focus and my strength and bring me back to a place of hope and possibility, a place where magic can happen.

I encourage you to add these words to your arsenal of positive affirmations: LIVE. GROW STRONGER. FIGHT ANOTHER DAY. Because sometimes to traverse this journey we call life, you need a warrior's spirit.

Meditation #7—One

God's life is now my life. His strength is my strength. His power is my power. His love is my love. His peace is my peace. His joy is my joy. His abundance is my abundance.

In Him, I live and move and have my being. I am in Him and He in me. Wherever I am, He is present. We are one.

Blessings Are Mine

Sometimes God uses rather unconventional means, at least by pharisees' standards, to speak to me. I realize this shouldn't surprise me at all given the fact that He once used a donkey to convey a message to a prophet. And yet, He really does surprise me with some of the ways He'll let me know He hears and sees—a random Internet search, a church billboard, a soap opera, strangers on the street. Whatever works.

However the messages are transmitted, they provide exactly what I need—encouragement, motivation or a kick in the pants—precisely when I need it. For this, I'm very grateful. I particularly appreciated getting today's perfectly timed message amid what has been a challenging and sometimes heartbreaking few weeks. An email that I almost didn't read because I just wasn't in the mood led me to a page with the following on a Post-it note like graphic:

There's about to be a shift in your life. Get ready for your Blessings! You've been through enough and breakthrough is on the way. Don't doubt it; just claim it.

For over a week, I've been praying for a major change in certain areas of my life. And just a few days ago I decided I wanted to walk in all of God's promises. This morning I woke up asking not only for strength, but also to experience who I am in Him. He sees and He hears.

So, I say "Yes, Jesus. Blessings are mine! Bring it on!"

Meditation #6—No Ordinary Love

"Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee."  – Isaiah 60:1

My Father loves me with a fierce, passionate, all-consuming, "I-will-die-for-you" love. From before the foundation of the earth, he knew me. He formed me in my mother's womb. He knows when I get up in the morning and when I lay down at night. He knows all of my thoughts afar off. The deepest desires of my heart—that I keep hidden from even my closest companions—He knows. There is nothing of me, in me, or about me that is hid from Him.

My Father numbers the very hairs of my head. To every concern, great or small, He gives attention. Each tear I shed, He sees and captures. When I am sad, when my heart is broken, He comforts me. And when I rejoice, He rejoices with me. When I am in danger, when I am threatened, He unleashes legions of angels to protect me. When I say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, royally mess up, He is quick to forgive. Nothing can separate me from His ever-abiding love; He has vowed to never let me go. "I am embracing you with Mine own hands," He whispers reassuringly to me.

Before I speak, my Father hears me; while I am asking, He answers. I am His beloved. His treasure. His pearl of great price. The apple of His eye. The workmanship of His hands—fearfully and wonderfully made in His image and daily being transformed into His likeness. I radiate with His beauty and glory as He is in me, and I in Him. 

In my Father's eyes, I am beautiful. In my Father's eyes, I am without blemish. In my Father's eyes, I am enough. I am His vessel of honor. I am his temple—His Holy of Holies.

His grace surrounds me continually like a shield, and His blessings overtake me. I've done nothing to deserve so great a love. There is nothing I can do to earn this kind of love. It is His gift to me; it is who He is.

Security in Who I Am and To Whom I Belong

I am now who I have always been—a beautiful, blessed, highly-favored daughter of the Most High God, fearfully and wonderfully made in His image and likeness. Your negative opinions of me take nothing away from me. And any good opinions you may have of me, while much appreciated, are unnecessary. I am beloved of the Father and daily being transformed to look and be more like His Son—altogether lovely, radiant, and full of strength and great compassion. Herein is my peace. Herein is my security.

Make A Lasting Impression

It's funny to me sometimes how very easily I can be distracted from a task. Tonight, I was working on some cover letters, and while trying to find an older one to work from (because why reinvent the wheel?), I found some much needed inspirational messages from Mother Teresa that I'd saved to my laptop a little over two years ago. I was/am a huge admirer of Mother Teresa—I think she is one of the most beautiful souls to have ever graced this planet. So, while her messages may not help we write my cover letters (which I should probably get back to), they did remind me that often the best way to make a memorable impression is through pure acts of kindness and grace.

"Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier." - Mother Teresa

"Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing." - Mother Teresa

Angels Watching Over Me—An Experiential Revelation of God's Promises

"For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone." - Psalms 91:11-12

Do you believe in angels? I do. I can recall having had a few angelic encounters in my lifetime. The first was a little more than 10 years ago, when my nephew was about 3 years old. Well, it was actually more his encounter, but I was with him when he kept insisting that there was someone waving and smiling at him from among the trees next to his grandparents home as we played on the porch. Overprotective aunt that I can sometimes be, I was at first extremely concerned that some stranger was hanging out in the bushes. So, I surveyed the area as carefully as was safe and saw no one, but I did notice a strange light coming from the area, and my nephew was certainly convinced someone was there.

Another encounter happened about two years ago, following the second surgery to remove my thyroid. Six people entered the operating room with me that day: my surgeon, the assisting surgeon, the anesthesiologist and her assistant, a nurse and an intern. A skeleton crew compared to the typical number of hospital personnel in an OR I was told. When I awoke about three hours later in the OR, I saw the previously mentioned six and about a dozen others standing around the room's perimeter as if keeping guard. Some might suppose it was the after effects of the anesthesia. Well, you can believe what you want, but something unusual happened to me in the OR that day that I suspect required divine intervention as I felt quite beaten up following and was taken to the cardiac wing to recover. (I was in much better condition after the first surgery!) Besides, I have Scripture to back me up. There's Psalm 91:11-12, which I quote at the beginning of this blog; Matthew 4:11; Hebrews 1:14; Hebrews 13:2; Revelation 7:11; and a host of others. Search it out for yourself.

Today, I had another angelic encounter and experienced first-hand how very literal God's promises are. It was about 12:30 when I headed out the front entry of my office building to walk across campus to visit my sister in her new office. I proceeded down the beautiful stone steps that grace the entry of my office building, and my mind becomes quickly preoccupied with the unexpected, but absolutely gorgeous, spring like weather (If you live in the northern U.S., you can appreciate what a treat a day like today is this time of year!). I'm practically ready to break out in song (really!) when the sole or heel of my boot gets caught in my pants leg and I start to tumble down the stone steps at an angle and head first. And there is nothing within reach for me to even try to grab onto to break the fall.

My first thought is... do I even have to say? What is one most likely thinking while falling down stone steps, head first? My next thought is "please God, don't let me hit my head." But before I can even scream for help, it felt as if someone slipped their hand under my right shoulder, lifted and turned me lengthwise onto the step. I immediately stopped falling. I didn't hit my head, and miraculously nothing was twisted, broken or sprained. In fact, the only injury I suffered (other than hurt feelings) was a skinned pinky. And as I looked around trying to make sense of what had just happened, I quickly realized that even if I had screamed for help, there was no human around to hear me. Within a few moments, I'm up on my feet as though I hadn't even fallen, and I continue walking to my sister's office.

After I arrived home tonight, I checked myself out again. Other than some mild soreness around my knee, there's no bruising and no swelling anywhere. Turns out, God literally does mean what He says about sending His angels to watch over His children. "If you stumble, [his angels will] catch you; their job is to keep you from falling." (Psalm 91:12 - The Message)

Of course, I will be more mindful when walking down or up stairs, but I feel eternally grateful and secure knowing that wherever I go, whatever I do, angels are watching over me. Thank you Lord for angels!! Thank you angels for keeping watch.

Never Give Up

My first post of 2013! I have waited and waited patiently since January 1 for the inspiration for my first post of this year. Today, I found it (or it found me).

All things truly are possible!! And watching Mr. Putra share his story gives me courage to share mine (especially as testimony that I have personal experience with miracles). 

In 2007, I suffered a mild stroke and lost the use of my entire right side. The diagnosis by the ER doctors completely confounded me and them as I wasn't anywhere near "stroke age." As my doctors discussed treatment options with me, they tried to be encouraging, but were also very careful to not get my hopes up by letting me know that I might not regain full use of my right side. Being very independent, almost defiantly so, this wasn't something I was willing to accept. (It was, however, a wake up call to my learning to take better care of myself.) Although my doctors and physical therapist were anticipating that I would spend at least 16 weeks in rehab, I pretty much back to normal after only 9 weeks of rehab.

I remember those first few weeks were tough. It seemed I couldn't do any of the things I was being asked. I remember breaking down in heaving sobs one night while at home because I couldn't open a jar of peanut butter (did I mention, I'm right-handed.) Still, I was determined. And my experience in rehab actually turned out to be one of the best things for me. Prior to the stroke, I had been "threatening" to return to the gym and start a regular exercise program. I even made a few half-hearted attempts, but just wasn't feeling up to the task. Forced to work out twice a week with a physical therapist to regain the use of my right side and my independence, I discovered that I'm far more capable than I realized of accomplishing anything by sheer force of will and faith. And within two months of completing rehab, I did join a gym. 

Two years later and 100 pounds lighter (that's another story entirely as I dropped 80 of those pounds in 8 months), I danced in my first Freestyles ballroom competition and a few months after that, my first Showcase (which earned me a new nickname—"Rumba eyes"). It felt like a dream come true and my instructor had no idea the gift he'd given me. I was a living, walking, dancing miracle. Nearly six years later, I show no signs of ever having had a stroke (even my last CT scan showed no evidence of scarring), have now been dancing for about four years, and still look pretty fierce (just ask my friends!).

Whatever your hopes, whatever your dreams—no matter what anyone has told you, no matter what you have told yourself.... NEVER GIVE UP! 

Life is beautiful.