Complimenting vs Confession

Defining moments
We all have defining moments in our lives. Perhaps you hear a phrase, and there is a ding that goes off in your head: you pause and say ahh, that's it, as good or common sense, acts like a clarifying solution, clearing up a muddled part of you. This is what having a relationship with Christ is like for me. I get muddled, I seek clarification, I go to the Master and ask for a solution, and the clearing of muddled me begins.

Kool-aid king or real thing?
Lots of people believe in Jesus. Many acknowledge His place in history. It is rare and fool hardy for someone to deny His existence, since there is far too much evidence affirming who He is in time. Some call Him a prophet, and others a wise teacher, comparing Him with other religious leaders from the past. He is undeniably someone to contend with and complimenting him on his humanistic achievements seems apropos in a world that tolerates, well, everything. 

We are watered down in our thinking, and being, and Jesus is just one more pickable Kool-aid to consume from the multipacks available at your local cosmic grocery store. Any God, choose your flavour, will do: there is something for everyone, including a would be saviour of the world.

He said I AM
Forgive me dear reader, as I struggle with the reality I witness daily while people all around me deny deity. Complimenting Jesus rather than confessing Him as the King of kings, Lord of lords, is a challenging truth that His disciples witness, and with hope in our hearts, endure.

He said He is I AM... we as a populace, say no, you are not, I AM... and the battle rages on. At times, I am cuttingly impolite. I am definitely not politically correct. I am also, lovingly honest, and loyal: I risk all, for Christ, because He is worthy of devoted praise, and He bought me, and you, at great cost. The blood of the lamb washes me sparkling white... figure that one out dear reader and perhaps, you and I will have a defining moment together?

Direction determines destination

Do you compliment Him, as just one more would-be-God or do you confess Him as your God, your Saviour, your Redeemer? Are you your own king, your own god, going your own way, or do you know The One who is The Way?

An echoed confession
Christ defines who I am. I bow down in reverence and dare not compare Him as though He were on par with his human creations.

'Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"' (John 11:25-26). While I will not compare or compliment Jesus, I can, and do, echo a confession from Martha in response to His statement and question:

Yes, Lord, she told him, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world (John 11:27). 

So here we have it: Do you, believe? It is one thing to compliment Christ as an option, but an entirely different reality when you confess Him as the Son of God and obey His commands for you, and for all who seek Him, and live according to His will. It isn't the easiest life: believe me, this I know. But I wouldn't want to live any other way.

Perhaps, your defining moment 
For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain (Philippians 1:21). You can only understand these sayings by going to Him, confessing Him as the great I AM, as Martha did, as millions through the millennia have done, and as I do, here and now before you.

You must first believe HIM. I ask you again, do you, believe?

Holy Hermit

Traveling the realms
From the upper room to the basement, on the main floor and out the door. These words were written on my mind, and then spoken to my son when I returned home from a walk. I explained to him the prophetic meaning: that he had traveled to heavenly heights, been pulled into the basement of despair, was being prepared for the main floor of life in this world and that he had yet, to walk out of the front door: a reentry as a citizen, not of this world but of Gods Kingdom.

Competing voices, which one is Gods
My son had been away, on a sojourn of sorts: a mental, emotional, spiritual, physical removal from what is normal, average, mediocre and considered "safe" in the world. He went away temporarily and then, miraculously, he came home.

As I type, I see that while the house we occupy in our bodies served as a haven physically, this is not the home he craved or sought. He had come home so that he could freely travel the inner worlds. He needed time in a sanctuary, alone, isolated, dedicated to understanding himself, his reason for being and ultimately, to hear past the competing voices, the ones that loudly shout at each of us from outside of ourselves and echo their refrain in our minds. He needed to hear Gods voice... in the still, the deafening quiet, the seclusion of body and soul. He was not well and he needed the healing balm, of home. He became a Holy Hermit.

A moms desperate plea
My son was not himself. It was obvious, observable, distractingly disturbing at times. There were places he had seen in his mind, in his spirit: at first glance, it appeared he was irretrievable. I could not go in and get him. I could not enter the world he occupied. He had gone in alone, or so it seemed, and no one had the secret pass code, the wink and a nod magic, the membership handshake that permitted entry. In my weakened state, I was at times desperate and wept, face to the ground, pleading with God to pluck my son from the edge, the precipice. Over and over again I heard this scriptural refrain, spoken by Jesus:

And he said unto them, This kind can come forth by nothing but by prayer and fasting (Mark 9:29)

And so I did, I prayed. I prayed day and night. I prayed desperately, hopefully, sorrowfully, joyfully, quietly, loudly, while weeping and singing and shouting and whispering. In my weakness I was brought low, down upon my knees and it was then and always is, dear reader, that God becomes our strength, our answer.

God enters into secret places

Heavenly Heights, a great view

God is the secret pass code, the wink and nod magic. My son was not alone and never had been. He traveled the universe, the heights of heaven and the depths of despair and was redeemed, retrieved by The One and only Original King that grants membership to those who wish to enter into His kingdom. My son, he is sound, of mind, body and spirit, fortified in his faith. He works, he relates, he contributes to the household and he is no longer held captive. He is free, in Christ. 

The healing has been sealed: a friend taught me this recently.

My living hell was real
This all may sound neat and clean, trite and simple. It is not and was not. My living hell was real. Parents can never separate themselves from their child's pain and suffering. It is an impossibility. Which is why we must look to the Father, and his Son. The love that is painfully undeniable when there is separation:

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life (John 3:16)

While I watched, I had to give my son up, over and over again, to our faithful loving Father in heaven. He knows what to do when we don't. All that was and is still, required of me, is to pray. The promise, the prophetic answer, is that God can, and will, do the rest: and He has.