Transformed

© lindaclamb

Gratitude slipped down my checks saturating my pillow this morning as I considered all God has done.

He took a broken, wounded, flawed woman and gave her wings.

For much of my life, I felt like I didn’t fit. I don’t know if I’m a square or round peg (physically, definitely more round!), but I just didn’t fit into the expected holes set before me. In attempting to conform, I contorted myself into something I didn’t recognize. I hadn’t a clue what it was to be happy in my own skin let alone content.

A family friend, who spent at least a week every summer on our farm, once told my mother that I would be one to stop and smell the flowers along the way. She had me pegged. I could be a dreamer. I would escape into the hills with the dogs. I would talk to God, and give grand addresses with only the dogs, the cows, the wildlife, and insects as my audience. And I had no concept of the passage of time, which is still a challenge for me to this day. Just ask the friends I have l-o-n-g lunches with.

These proclivities were not well accepted in a work-oriented, clock-watching farm family. I think it would be fair to say I was misunderstood and I certainly didn’t understand myself.  I seemed to be much more like my maternal grandfather than either of my parents. I was an extrovert in a family of introverts. I was hushed…a lot.

As my Heavenly Father has revealed Himself to me, I have come to see myself as He sees me. I am loved with a pure, everlasting love. Through His lens, I see a creative person with messages to share that He has put on my heart. I am courageous and intelligent. I am a warrior and an intercessor. And I am a prophet.

Don’t be freaked out by that last sentence. It may be outside the teaching you’ve received. Simply put, I hear from God and He shows me things through pictures, dreams and visions. I thought I was the weirdest person alive until I understood how God had wired me. For years, I shut down my giftings out of fear. In recent years, I have learned to embrace the very things I feared.

Larry and I were blessed to be under the teaching of an apostle who espoused the five-fold ministry of apostle, prophet, evangelist, pastor, and teacher (Ephesians 4:11). He was passionate about the need for each of these offices to be fully functioning NOW within the Body of Christ. What we learned under his leadership and teaching was invaluable.

And He gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love.  Ephesians 4:11-16 ESV

My spirit had been repeatedly crushed as I journeyed though life. I only had my soul (my mind, my will and my emotions) to rely on – not a good thing! I had built boxes to confine the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It wasn’t until I was open to allowing His Spirit, the amazing gift Jesus left for us until His return, to expand and teach my spirit that real transformation began to happen.

My greatest desire is to be in His presence. 

• In His presence, miracles happen.
• In His presence, there is complete freedom. 
• In His presence, I learn and grow, and get out of my untrustworthy soul.
• In His presence, there is comfort and peace.
• In His presence, there is safety and security.
• In His presence, there is infinite love.
• In His presence, I commune with Him, often without words.
• In His presence, my worship is pure and focused.
• In His presence, I honor and glorify Him in ways my soul simply cannot express.
• In His presence, I am not a misfit. I am cherished and I have purpose.

 The song "Lost In His Presence", written by Vashawn Mitchell, says it so well.

If by chance you look for me and you cannot find me
Don't you worry, I'm alright
I am where I want to be

I am lost in His presence
I am consumed
By the glory of Jesus
The everlasting King

I'm rejoicing with the angels
Lifting my voice to sing
Of the power
Of the everlasting King

In His presence
In His presence
I'm honored to be in the presence of the King

I am here
Don't wanna leave
The presence of the King

And the icing on the cake is where God has placed us, at New Hope Christian Center in Orrville, Ohio. I feel like I have come home but it is unlike any home I have ever known. They welcomed and accepted us with open arms from our very first Sunday there. Their love is genuine, from the Source of all love.

-   Acceptance is huge for me, there is a lot more to that story. One day, there will be a book of my journey.  

In this body of believers, I feel the greatest freedom to be me. Our giftings are welcomed, encouraged and fostered. I feel like I have emerged from a chrysalis. It is here, I can fly.

And that is a great blessing.

 At last….

At His Feet

I awoke this morning feeling like I had run a marathon. My muscles and joints ached. And the migraine was still with me. Day three. 

I had a nice long conversation with my niece which always makes me feel better. But the migraine continued.

Well-meaning people are always happy to share what they've tried or heard of to cure a migraine.

Eat this.

Don't eat that.

Try this herb.

This essential oil works.

Etc.

Today, all I wanted to say was, "Peace. Be still." I'm not trying to offend anyone or place judgment, its just how I felt the Spirit was leading me today.

The lyrics of a Gospel single by Erica Campbell, "Just a Little More Jesus", kept running through my head. "I need just a little more Jesus. I need just a little more Jesus to help me on the way." The only thing was I needed A LOT more Jesus. 

I went to bed. No music. Just the fan on low and the sound of an almost too happy Chipping Sparrow below the window.

I calmed my spirit. And my mind.

And I put all the stuff that had been crowding my spirit and mind at the feet of Jesus. 

I curled up at His feet. No words were exchanged. I just lay there soaking in His Spirit. He infused or transfused my being. I soaked in whatever He had for me. I'm not sure how long I lay there, an hour or two at least. 

The pain was gone. And I felt refreshed.

The Great Physician did His work. I simply needed to be faithful to His leading.

A Shared Journey with Lyme Disease

Our journey has been short. Only eleven months, eleven life-altering months. Others have lived undiagnosed or misdiagnosed for years. I have been blessed.

I have not been in this alone. Sure, I’ve felt lonely but I have never been alone. Jesus and Larry have been with me every step of the way.

My greatest blessing on this earth is the wonderful man I have been privileged to call my husband for a little over twenty years.

I cannot imagine making this journey without him. He’s been right here with me…

…helping me to walk when I couldn’t on my own.

…pleading with me to eat when I simply had no energy to take even one bite.

…preparing and serving meals when he is clearly exhausted from his day at work.

…holding me as I cry in frustration, pain, loneliness or exhaustion.

…massaging my aching muscles.

…kissing my face and head to try to ease the pain of a migraine – the man’s kisses have miraculous qualities!

…giving me words and names when my brain just can’t come up with them.

…taking time off to drive me to appointments, to sit by my bedside, to pick me up physically and emotionally.

…taking my phone calls at work when I just need to hear his voice.

…being endlessly patient with me when I require more and more.

…praying with me and for me in the wee hours of the night when my pain is so intense I want to scream.

…reminding me it’s not my fault.

…encouraging me. Every. Single. Day.

…acting as my advocate with doctors and nurses.

…imploring me to not over-do whatever task I may take on. It is not in my DNA to take breaks, just get ‘er done! I’ve had to learn to pace myself. Many things just don’t get done. Our flower beds are a glaring reminder of my limitations.

…telling me it’s okay when the dishes crowd the counter tops, the mail has taken over the kitchen table, the laundry baskets are overflowing, the cat hair has taken on a life of its own, the carpets are disgusting and the bathroom desperately needs attention.

…whispering words of love and affirmation.

…telling me I’m beautiful when the mirror tells me a very different story.

I know this has been hard for him. It breaks his heart to see me in pain, struggling more on some days than others. He feels powerless much of the time. And that breaks my heart.

Even on my worst days, I remind myself that God has purpose in this. Lyme Disease may have transformed my daily life but Jesus is transforming my heart.

Prepare me, Lord, for whatever lies ahead. I know I am not alone. Thank you.

Mountains, Chasms and Curtains

Have you ever heard yourself say something and immediately want the earth to open up and swallow you? 

I was sixteen, a state officer in an organization. A microphone was suddenly thrust in my face at a district meeting. No warning. No courtesy of a heads up. And I said something ridiculous. It just slipped out. I had been asked to encourage other high school girls to run for district and state office in this particular organization. 

I don't have a clue what else I said. Only the words "it will make you more mature". 

What?! Oh please, God! I didn't just say that, did I?Like I had a clue what maturity was at that age! (Or even at this age sometimes.) Like I was some great example!

I had always felt old in high school. I wasn't interested in foolishness or parties. I found most boys to be just that, boys. As for the girls, I found most of them to be stuck up, rude, with their head in the clouds or focused on messed up priorities. Sorry if this offends anyone, just telling you how it was.

When I stepped on the bus to head back home that night, I faced something that will, on occasion, haunt me to this day. I no more than got my foot on the bottom step than the jeering and taunting began. Clearly they had been waiting for me. I found my way to a seat and tried to become as small as possible. I recognized the voice of the ring leader but she wasn't alone. I cringed as my words were flung at me with peals of laughter. Oh the laughter.... 

There wasn't a teacher on the bus. I think the bus driver finally brought the verbal assault to a close but the whole incident stung. Tears streamed down my face but I wouldn't turn around. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing how wounded I was.

But the truth is, I didn't blame the girls. I blamed myself. The words were mine. I had given them the ammunition. So I internalized it, adding it to the mountains of shame that already resided there.

I share this blistering personal example to illustrate the power of words and the destructive nature of shame. If I'd had just two minutes to think, perhaps I would have said something more appropriate or was that how I really felt about teenage girls at the time? Had I allowed my internal voice an outlet? Scary thought.

And how many times have I wounded or maimed someone with my words? Whatever the situation or circumstance, I am so sorry. I think of the phrase "wounded people wound". How true.

As an extrovert, I don't necessarily weigh everything that comes out of my mouth. (I can hear some of my friends laughing as they read this.) With age, I've gotten infinitely better about thinking before speaking. But have I left a wake behind me? 

Words can build or they can destroy. Words brought shame into my life, one of the most destructive forces Satan uses against us. 

Shame acts as a shield. It deflects praise and compliments. Shame clouds, distorts and alters truth. For far too many, their shame is their truth. It is their reality. 

Shame creates a chasm that gives the enemy of our souls an entry point into our lives. Only the blood of Jesus can fill that canyon and bring hope and healing.

I cannot express enough the importance of speaking to our children in love. Always. No matter what. Never use the words "shame on you" because those three words may indeed introduce shame into their lives. 

The last thing any of us wants to do is cause a child to feel deeply flawed or of little value. Guide? Of course. Discipline? Absolutely! But always loving and helping to foster a healthy, positive image of who they are. And Who's they are. 

Jesus rescued me from the bottom of that chasm that had imprisoned me. He cut through the thick curtain of shame that has been my identity. But I fight the familiarity of what I knew to be true for so long. I have to work to see things differently, to bring God's Truth in to occupy those dark places. I remind the enemy that his lies must stop. Now! 

I've come a long, long way due to the love of Jesus Christ and the love of my wonderful husband. Larry's eyes reflect the real me, the me God created. And I like what I see. Honestly, I do.

My heart's desire is to help people break free of shame to know who they are in God's Kingdom. To cast off the constraints that have held them hostage. To be set free from all the junk of the past. To see themselves as God sees them. 

Only then can each of us truly walk in the purpose God created us to fulfill.

Jesus' words bring hope. "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." John 10:10

Abundant life? Oh yeah! That's what I choose over mountains, chasms and curtains.

(c)lclamb 2014

Spare Me The Mall

It's funny how our interests, priorities and desires change.

I used to love going to the mall. Not any more. I can honestly say I haven't been in a mall in years. Personally, I would rather have a tooth pulled!

I much prefer shopping online and paying for shipping.

Spare me the window displays designed to shame you into realizing your wardrobe is sorely lacking or cause any parent or grandparent to cover the eyes of the young ones in tow.

Spare me the food court that smells so tempting you resemble the old commercial of the dog being carried along on a wave of aroma until he reaches his culinary delight. Have I ever found healthy, organic choices in a food court? Never.

Spare me the young people just milling around with nothing better to do than hang out, gossip, bully and make inappropriate comments to members of the opposite sex. Get a job! Find a life! Go to church! I know a few farmers who would be happy to put you to work shoveling you know what. (I'm in a sassy mood today, can't you tell?)

Spare me fighting for my space. A mall during Christmas shopping season has the appeal of a ripe banana that has been run over by a manure spreader.

Spare me claustrophobic changing rooms that are meant for a pre-teen, not a plus-sized middle-ager.

Spare me scantily clad women who put their breasts on display for all to see. My breasts belong to my husband. If they are in the least bit visible, it is a clothing malfunction. (If you see the girls are a peekin', for goodness sake, tell me!) Keep your breasts to yourselves, ladies, for all of our sakes.

Spare me trying to find my car in the super-sized, vehicle-filled mall parking lots. My first car was a bright yellow VW Beetle. Back in the late 70's and early 80's I could always find my cheery little car in a mall parking lot. Those days are long gone!

Spare me the little kids who have received so much sensory overload they have morphed into screaming, pleading, tormenting little creatures who make you want to use duct tape in some very creative ways.

Spare me the frazzled moms and dads who thought a trip to the mall would be a fun outing with the kids but they have reached a point of saturation where they can no longer function. You can see it in their eyes. They've become pod people.

Spare me the traffic around the mall, any mall. And the drivers! Does something come over people so they suddenly forget any driving skills they had once had? And all courtesy goes right out the window! 

Enjoy the mall, if that's your thing. But please, spare me. I'll be at home. Cozy and happy.

His Plans

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

This beautiful verse has long been a favorite of mine. I can immerse myself in it for hours, days even. 

I know too well what it is to rely on my plans. Flawed. Short-sighted. Incomplete. Selfish. And often empty.

But His plans? His plans give me such joy! I rejoice at His plans. Complete. Perfect. Drenched in love. Focused on Christ and all those He dearly loves. 

I don't have to face His plans with apprehension or fear. He will supply all I need. With my eyes on Him, I can face anything. He has proven Himself faithful through it all. And oh so trustworthy.

There have been plenty of times I have felt set-aside due to physical limitations. I've wallowed and felt sorry for myself. But God taps me on the shoulder and whispers gentle reminders of all I can do. 

I can still write. 
I can still reach out. 
I can still encourage. 
I can still bring laughter. 
I can still uplift. 
I can still love. 
I can still intercede.

The list goes on.

What a privilege to fulfill even a small part of the plans He has for me right from my home. 

Okay, now I'm crying tears of gratitude at the awesome God I love and serve. 

Thank you, Lord, for all I can do. Your plans...yes, Your plans, Lord.

Choose Joy

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16:11 ESV  

I have a laugh. Perhaps a laugh-and-a-half.

I’ve been blessed with a contagious laugh that seizes attention, turns heads and transforms faces.

My laugh is a gift, to others and to me. I don’t apologize for it. It is just so…well…me.

Have I been shushed? Countless times since my laugh does not have a volume control and the mute button is permanently broken. 

While in college, I worked at a grocery store. As a coworker and I stocked shelves, we overheard a customer say, “It sounds like someone is laying eggs in the next aisle.” Of course they were referring to me and my laughter. And that comment took it to a new level. I suspect they could then hear me throughout the store. (Really? I sounded like a chicken laying an egg? Hmm.)

Have people been embarrassed by my laugh? Yes. Sad but true.

When I asked my husband if my laugh embarrasses him, he smiled and said “No, I am proud of you and your laugh.” Love my man!

I will never forget a banquet I attended at a lovely, famous restaurant in Kansas City, Missouri. (Do you think I can remember the name of it now? Of course not!). When our speaker came to the microphone, the first words out of his mouth were, “I don’t know about the rest of you but I wish I was at that table.” All heads turned to the table where I sat with seven others. Had we laughed? Oh my, yes! Loudly. With Abandon. (The events at that table were hilarious. Perhaps I will share them with all of you one day.)

I was touched when a pastor told me he needed a recording of my laugh. Apparently my laugh floated down the hall causing his assistant to laugh which in turn made him laugh. Yep. I was responsible for creating laugh chains - even with the office door shut. He wanted the laughter to continue even as I was moving on to something new. Sweet!

We laugh a lot at our house. Chuckles. Belly laughs. Guffaws. Snorts. You name the laugh, our lives are generously sprinkled with each and every one.

Joy ministers to others. During my five day hospital stay this past June, nurses told us they loved coming to my room. They told us it was peaceful and joyful. Prayer and joy had changed the atmosphere. Oddly and quite wonderfully, my sense of humor remains intact even when I am in pain or terribly sick. Larry could tell you stories.

One of the prayers of my heart is for the return of laughter to my parents’ home. My father’s health limits him from doing most of the things that gave his life purpose and joy. It breaks my heart. Phone conversations with my mother include plenty of laughter. She needs it but oh how I wish I lived closer.

Perhaps I need to pursue making a laughing tool. A laugh would be produced by turning it over. I had something like it that sounded like a calf…which always made me laugh!

If laughter is lacking in your life or your home, I encourage you to choose joy. Surround yourself with music that brings joy and people who make you laugh. Seek out and display joyful scriptures. Spend time in the presence of the Lord.

Joy is not dependent on circumstances. It is a state of being, a confidence and peace that accompany knowing the One who loves you with an everlasting love. It comes with resting in His presence and trusting Him fully.

As you rise each morning, I encourage you to choose joy (Psalm 30:5).

For You, O LORD, have made me glad by Your work; at the works of Your hands I sing for joy. Psalm 92:4 ESV