On Dying and Rebirth

09 Sep 2005 Posted by joannareyburnmay in Favorite Musings

I've missed it again. He spoke, and I didn't listen, again. I blew my top; lost my temper; stepped into anxiety, provided for myself, stirred up contention, wallowed in elitism, the list goes on. (I had to battle my pride simply to create and publish such said list) and on the side, I battle perfectionism.

You see, I've been reading testimonies of my favorite missionaries, foxes book of martyrs, listening to the prophetic words regarding our generation. I've watched the aftermath of natural disasters on the news and prayed for the release of signs and wonders.I've missed it again. He spoke, and I didn't listen, again. I blew my top; lost my temper; stepped into anxiety, provided for myself, stirred up contention, wallowed in elitism, the list goes on. (I had to battle my pride simply to create and publish such said list) and on the side, I battle perfectionism.

You see, I've been reading testimonies of my favorite missionaries, foxes book of martyrs, listening to the prophetic words regarding our generation. I've watched the aftermath of natural disasters on the news and prayed for the release of signs and wonders. I've found myself at the foot of The Mountain (heb12) and at the moment, I'm slightly overwhelmed that there is still so far for me to go. I've heard firsthand accounts of supernatural provision, healings, signs and wonders. I listen to the promise and availability of walking in communion with God. The desire of my heart is to be sensitive to His Spirit: "He who has ears, let him hear what the Spirit is saying." I want to be one of those. I want to stretch out my hand, I want to sing the true song of the Lord, I want to be a secret-keeper; and a REAL intercessor. But I struggle to maintain my weak simple prayer life. I try and read my ten chapters a day. I have so far to go. I'm only at the foot of the mountain, and the presence is at the top.

One thing I am realizing is that I could be happy with what I've got. Many people would consider me "prophetic" or at least "anointed" (whatever these terms have come to mean). I could market myself probably quite convincingly to a mega-church somewhere, a ministry, or even better build my own. I could write some book, make another cd, do the conference "circuit" From this very day, I could never crack open The Book again, never Listen again, never Groan & Weep; never Prophecy, and I would probably "get by" just fine. You may not even notice; scarier still neither may I.

Matthew 6:21 "Not everyone who says to Me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. 22 Many will say to Me in that day, 'Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?' 23 And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!'

Matthew 6:48 Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect.

So I stand now somewhere in the middle. Somewhere between the dying and rebirth. Hanging in the balance between wrestling with this old man, and longing to be with Him where He is. Yet I know that what I'm walking through right now is all apart of the plan. He knows. I HAVE to believe; it's the substance I'm holding onto when I can't see anything else.

On days when I feel like I've failed, again; when I feel totally disqualified from the call of God, I hold on. When I'm frustrated saying Where is the prophetic? Where are the songbirds? Why do we insist on filling the silence with our models and formats and little "ditties," I hold on. When the marketing of my faith has me searching for my whip to clean the temple, and leaves me disillusioned in ministries, organization, and men; I hold on. When I long to be and do that which I was MADE for, and I feel like I'm just wasting time until it comes around, when I cannot meet my personal expectations for myself, I hold on. When I feel stripped of my loves, my friends, my influence; when no one seems to appreciate or validate me, when I look for fruit in my own life and come up empty, when I'm so sick of chasing my tail, I hold on.

It's in the waiting; I KNOW He'll meet me there. It's in the waiting that I even have a chance to change. It's when I notice the silence and cease from filling the spaces with vain repetitions that I learn how to hear.