Chelan

Proverbs are interesting. 💭
This seems to infer we may go about our lives and days but with an ongoing intentional purpose to serve and please Him, and then he will reward our devotion with establishment. Endorsement and blessing of what plans we have made for ourselves.

Very different from the narrative that says,

“Lord, I won’t go anywhere unless you go before me. I’m not moving until I see you in it. Until I hear your voice – your green light. Your answer to my prayer for guidance. I’ll wait right here…Lord.

…Lord?”

“And He will establish YOUR plans.” Proverbs 16:3

What a gracious Friend we have in our Creator, who sits on his throne outside of time and knows the fallout from all our choices. Yet he still extends his right hand asking us

to dance.

It can often be too difficult emotionally, too painful or too exhausting to continue praying the same prayer over and over, for something or someone when you have not seen much change in maybe years.

So the praying ceases for a little while. Just long enough for the guilt to sink in. The accusations.

These are the work and weapons of a spirit of deception and religion. 

It says, “When you let up on your doing, you let God down. You let down the one who wants you to pray without ceasing. Good children pray. Even better ones have worn out knees. A special closet. Faith that moves mountains. Good Christians are given a title of Intercessor or Prayer Warrior.

When’s the last time your faith moved anything, you inadequate “believer”.

Paul taught the first century church that we have weapons too. Ours are good for dismantling anything untrue and pulling it down. Pinning it to the ground and forcing it to submit to all that is right and true – all that the Spirit of God is saying. Answer this: if you never prayed another prayer the rest of your life, would you still be his beloved child? Accepted? Forgiven? Welcomed in to heaven?

Not to suggest prayer is unnecessary. But to feel guilt and shame for a prayer life not held to a pristine standard? This is a broken, religious philosophy. If you’re talking to Jesus like a friend… or to God like your loving Dad, or listening for heavenly suggestions throughout your day… You. Are. Doing just fine. He’s not up there keeping count or judging your style. He’s more relational than you’d ever imagine. He is a God of the heart.

Shake off the shame over your prayers. The standard, the goal is simply relationship. If you believe this, you have been given a gift to break religious holds such – holds that are strong – with truths that are stronger.

I called and asked for the ICU. And when I got it, I asked the woman if she can answer a question for me. She politely said, sure. I asked if Newberg Medical Center uses Remdesivir for treatment of Covid patients.

I explained that I had googled what hospitals are allowed to use to treat ICU admitted Covid or Covid pneumonia patients – and it listed that particular drug as the main one used to treat those patients. So I was wondering if that is what is used there at Newb. Medical Center as well.

She was surprised – asked my name, and asked the nature of why I was asking. If it was personal or if someone I know was there at that hospital and I was inquiring on their behalf.

I answered honestly that I knew no one there currently, but “have had a friend admitted to a different hospital and was given…” And she cut me off and said,

“That is a very specific question.
(She stumbled a bit with her words & paused),”We don’t usually get that kind of question. I cannot answer that. There are many different treatments we provide, depending on the need.”
I calmly replied to her, “Oh, I understand that. Of course. Every case is different.“
And she said again, “That is a very specific question. And I can’t answer it.”

I replied, ”Even though every patient has different needs, I was wondering just this – if Remdesivir is used at all, at Providence Newberg Medical. That’s all.”

And she said, ” I will have to have a shift supervisor answer that. I cannot.”

I said, “Ok, great! Thanks!”

So she put me on hold and then came back and got my name and number, saying they’ll call me back.

I replied with my contact info and said,

“Ok thanks, what’s the name of the person calling me back?” (I always ask this question when I’m told someone will call me back so i know who to expect).

She replied, Shift Supervisor. Thank you (trying to hang up) and I said, I’m sorry, I mean what’s their name? (all with a very kind tone) and she hesitated, “Bethany…but there’s a shift change soon.“

So I said, Ok thanks. Will I be able to have a call back this evening, do you think?

And she said,
I … I don’t know.

I cant make anyone do anything. But I can ask questions. I am allowed. So finally, I said, Ok, and I thanked her. She seemed to hang up before I ended my thank you.

I guess I’ll just wait to see if Shift Supervisor calls me. If this drug is controversial, it’s probably controversial for a reason. im not going to get into any confrontational conversations. i want to be remain honoring. But im hearing some disturbing things about this drug, what it causes, and other hospital protocols associated with these patients and their family members who are desperate for hope and other medical solutions or treatments. Desperate to see their spouse, face to face. Some are desperate to remove them from the hospital and NOT being allowed, in essence, being forced to stay away from their loved one as they slowly die, alone. This exact thing happened to my friend’s grandpa. It is currently happening to my boss and her husband to a degree, although the details are being kept private, and it almost happened to two other of my friends’ husbands, Rudy almost died twice on Remdesivir as it immediately started causing kidney failure. And Byron fought for his life as his wife Sara fought to see him in person and fought against their protocol and to use monoclonal antibody treatments. He began to recover and is still in that recovery process, but out of the ICU thank God Almighty.

I do wonder if i will get a call back. i wonder if certain hospitals don’t follow that protocol because it is allowed /FDA approved ONLY under a EUA, and therefore it hasn’t been proven safe yet. Or they’ve read the stories of the harm to organs, and the studies that have had to be stopped early due to the deaths. Or maybe they will see how much they’re being offered as federal payment for every remdes. use and subsequently even more payment for the hospital for every Cov. death… and maybe they will wonder why. What is happening. Is it worth all of this?

Is remdes. safe? Or is it a scapegoat drug being used so people wont look to hydroxychlor. or Ivm or monoclonal anibodies with a vit c and d IV, for early treatment?

Only Time will tell. But I can’t be afraid to ask questions. These are people I care about.

His mother seemed to store many things in her heart. She seemed to treasure wondrous things inside of her.

Tonight it was a struggle to have Angel join me as I was leaving for church. As it is more Sunday nights than not.
Of course. I dont expect it to be any different. She is a fifteen year old. Whose dad no longer values or sees justification for gathering with other believers in a church building.

We arrived 35 minutes late, catching the last song. I was sitting, bent with my head in my hands. Perhaps she took my body language as – I was upset. She instinctively placed her hand on my back. And left it there. Immediately I thanked the Lord for this moment. Because I know her go to love language is not physical touch. Yet it lingered there until the invitation to stand.

Moments later, this verse came up in the message. Mary stored all these things in her heart.

And it resonated with me. She also treasured the angel’s words in her heart – when she was told she would deliver the Messiah to the world, as a virgin.

I want to hold and keep and treasure the little things in my heart. And when the big things happen I will treasure them all the more.

A picture slowly entered my mind over the course of the day, and it was a tree, from the perspective above ground and below. Initially, it started with the thought of one single root. It was as if this root was made to grow straight downward. Because in the deep soil was where all the nutrients lie in wait – those that feed all trees. Sweet nutrients such as eternal perspective, mercy, true shalom, grace, love for enemies, humility, servanthood, benefits of doubt.

The further down it grows, the more lush, colorful, vibrant and oxygenating the tree above ground becomes. It is almost as if far below it, there rushes an underground River, making flourishing ever-available.

Over time, without careful attention, this root slowly finds its way closer to the surface like the needle of an upside down dial. Subtly cutting its way up through the layers, abandoning its Creator’s original intent, to dwell in the good soil where truth is somehow unbiased, untainted.  It just IS.

Still embedded in the ground,  but becoming embittered by pesticides along the topsoil that trickle down with trodding and rain, the root begins to lose some of its carrier-capacity. Those pesticides boast of their labels: Righteous Anger, Justice and Scientific Superiority. But rip the labels off and look inside them – you will find poison. The poison of Fear.

Ironically, if the needle were to move in the exact opposite direction, past the rich middle and through the same layers of now opposing narrative, close to the same topsoil, only on the other side, it would still be embittered and weakened by the same poison of Fear. On this side, the labels are different. Well, two are.  Protection. Selflessness. And Scientific Superiority. 

All the labels claim to kill threats to life and growth of the same tree. Their claims are deceiving. Their poison distorts.

Balance is begging for a resurgence. That soft middle ground is waiting for the root to find its way back where love, not fear, fuels every response. Where the grappling for control over a loved one’s choice is revealed as fruitless. And that’s ok, because love is never controlling. Where thankfulness and faith are being siphoned up every thirsty vein to feed the most full, productive tree for onlookers to admire.

Its abundant branch tips almost seem to intently point up, far past the clouds.

As I was worshiping last night, this phrase came to me. The train of his robe.

Honestly, it has been quite a while since I have gotten anything I’d consider a revelation from Him, although I likely underestimate that term and he gives them to me daily. But last night I thought as this came to me, it seemed significant. So I thought I’d share it here on my blog. Wow, I have no earthly idea when I blogged last! Ha ha…

Ok..

In scripture, the presentation or wearing of a robe can signify DIGNITY, ROYALTY, AUTHORITY, PRIESTHOOD, BELONGING IN A FAMILY, or HONOR. (The amplified vsn here states, “for the guest of honor”).

The once-prodigal disgraced, disgusting, undignified, defiled, sin infected son was presented with his Fathers robe. In fact, his rehearsed speech to convince his dad to allow him back as a hired hand was literally cut off midway, with the Father yelling at his servants QUICKLY! GET MY BEST ROBE! And DRESS my boy in it!

He is found worthy of this honor. Somehow, even amidst his sin, upon his return, he is found worthy.

In Isaiah 6, we read from the prophet, part of his vision of heaven, “I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up – and the train (hem, bottom edge) of the robe filled the temple…”

I asked the Lord when writing this down, “Train? Does this word even have significance?” Why not the whole thing? Because I knew the word robe did. And I also felt temple. But train? I was led to the original meaning and it stated ”hem”, or bottom edge of a robe.
Lord?
What?
Yes! I see we are your temple! Our bodies are each your “temple” in which your spirit loves to dwell! What are you saying, we get only part of you? The bottom part?
No, I felt.

My robe is so extensive and provides so much coverage, that just the hem fills you, entirely. And there’s more. So much more to my robe.
More dignity.
More authority.
More belonging.
More honor.

Let it fill your temple today.
And I want to remind you what it was the woman with the 12-year long blood disorder, touched on Jesus, my beloved Son. At the very moment she touched his hem, POWER was released! So to this, add power.

Let it all fill you today. Reach toward me, like she did. You’ll see. And know that you’ve only touched the very fringe. I have more for you. More dignity, authority, belonging, honor. More healing power.

It is my delight to bestow upon you these things because I have found you worthy by the sacrifice Jesus made for you.

In the middle of the fight last night, I felt like I was spiritually suffocating in the darkness of the room. 

I needed fresh air and went out front and sat on the concrete, bare feet on the cold grass. 

I focused on the sensations I felt. I breathed the air in deeply. I looked up with my eyes and found in the sky above the house across the street, a cloud formation that was lit up as if it were taken from the day sky and placed in the night. 

It looked like a large, soaring bird with long, flowing, stretched out wings.

There were no other clouds in the sky. I looked. I could not figure out what made it bright. It was too far past sunset to reflect the sun or atmospheric rays. I’m sure there is some meteorological explanation, but in the moment, I didn’t want to know one.  I wanted to know – I needed to know – it was there like that, for me.

So I sat, trying desperately to slow my breath, feeling the chill of the blades under my feet, and looking up – with thoughts still too anxious to contend with tears.

I silently asked, “What does it mean?”

And I heard a silent, “Peace.  Power.”

It seemed as if these two words did not go together. I wondered if I heard right. Or if I just conjured up in my own grasping mind what I thought the bird represented.

Within the hour, because three people we knew were praying passionately with faith, and because our God is merciful to lean down low and listen, breakthrough came. With it, words like a salve. Touch of tangible love. Forgiveness requested and received.

And rest.

These will be my weapons in this next season:

“Peace. Power.”