Pay very close attention to your “nevers” friends. In our lives, they have been faithful signposts of exactly where God was actually taking us. And in His glorious and exceedingly higher ways (and sense of humor), He’s done it again. This one was fast and sneaky, while simultaneously long and glaringly obvious. I share this for several reasons: Because it’s a huge transition for our family. Because perhaps someone else needs to hear this in their own ponderings. And to show the many creative and perfect ways in which God works, moves, and speaks. I have spent the last 21 years of my professional life evangelistically instilling a single, impassioned, message into every family I have served as a pediatric Speech-Language Pathologist, predominantly specializing in teaching deaf children to listen and speak: “You are your child’s expert. No one could ever know them the way you do. You are exceedingly capable of seeing every bit of their soon-coming success to fruition. You don’t need a special school. You don’t need therapy five days a week. You merely need to create a lifestyle of listening and learning, where their developing brain can thrive. Day in and day out. Capturing every teachable moment you can with beautiful intentionality. I’ll be your coach. But you are well able to carry this out in the remaining 6 days and 23 hours you are with your child each week. And when you do, prepare to marvel, as they will surpass even their natural hearing peers. Why? Because you fostered an intentional lifestyle of learning, independently, rather than being codependent on a person or program to do it for you. Trust the process and your God-given ability to nurture and support your child in their unique needs.” Through the years, I’ve instilled this in teen parents living in poverty, in middle class dual-working parents who had to both work to support the family, in stay-at-home parents with multiple children, in wealthy executive families building careers; not one genre did I exempt from a confident expectation that they could do it and do it well as long as I knew they were wholly invested in seeing their child succeed to the best of their abilities. And my expectations have been met, over and over. Parents were, and are, overwhelmingly capable of excelling at the seemingly colossal task of educating their children and doing it incredibly well. All while at the same time, driving my own children to their educational facilities, year after year, fully entrusting and depending on their schools to cultivate and execute their formal learning experiences. Making memories. Loving their teachers. Watching them flourish. Ever so slightly saddened by the stories of the ways those teachers were enjoying the beauty of who God created them to be, from their front row seats, as day-old news. Feeling subtle moments of grief at the amount of time and number of experiences missed within their insanely fleeting childhood, but also laughing off any suggestion that I would ever be in a position, or even have the desire, to meet this need for them. Until suddenly, over the course of 10 days in January… I had been feeling a nondescript shift for months. We have been madly in love with our school since the moment our feet hit the ground in Tennessee. It’s a Classical Christian school, one in which Jimmy and I would often pinch ourselves in awe of the fact that our family got to be a part of it. Yet each time I would sit in that pick up line this year, I could feel something I couldn’t yet name in the pit of my belly. It wasn’t a bad feeling. Just a gnawing feeling that something foundational was shifting within me. And on a Thursday afternoon, seemingly “out of nowhere”, I began pondering, “What if we homeschooled the boys?” Soon to be in K, 3rd, and 6th. I found myself lost in a long, wandering thought of what that would look like then shook myself back into reality, laughing at myself. Oh my word, woman. You’re crazy! We could “never” homeschool. You’ve been called to this field and God is opening up new doors of opportunity for you within it. Clearly you’re confused. Now, get back to work. Except the feeling wouldn’t leave. Five days later, and exactly one week before the re-enrollment deadline at our school, it was a Tuesday. My hardest, longest day of 10 straight hours of providing therapy. And yet the pondering had grown into a full court press that was demanding action, even in my busyness. I was googling information from parking lots. Listening to podcasts while driving between sessions. Praying but then interrupting myself, almost afraid God would answer my ramblings, and I wasn’t quite ready for Him to speak. I used my lunch to reach out to a near stranger, but an acquaintance, who the Lord had used to cross my path nearly three years ago. One in which He had caused me to pay attention to without knowing why. Yet by the end of our conversation, I knew exactly why, as she is a like-minded, successful working mom and homeschooling mom of three beautiful boys who happens to love doing both, and is doing it well. “Oh my lands, Lord. You cannot be serious. I think I see what You’re up to but this is plum nuts. Wait! I haven’t even mentioned this to Jimmy yet. Oh, glory! This is perfect. HE will talk me out of this craziness. We are in a great school. Next year all three boys will finally be there together. Time to put this wild pondering to rest.” Except not only did Jimmy not talk me out of it, he was elated and deeply moved in pondering the possibility. And with his newly quickened heart and mind, he began sharing his overwhelming heart’s desire to shepherd our boys’ hearts and futures with renewed intentionality and vigor. “But Baby, the only way we can do this is if you take a day.” And without a moment’s hesitation, he declared, “I’m in!” I’ll take, “Things I Did Not See Coming for $800”, Alex. Alright Lord, maybe we’ve both hit our heads. You still have time to talk us out of this. There’s only one way we could do this and that is with a tutorial (which is a hybrid homeschool model where they receive instruction two modified days a week through a small, school-like setting) and there’s only one tutorial I would even consider. Their open house is in two days. But I can’t go because I’m booked solid and we might not even like it. God: Done. My schedule opened up during the open house. We both went. And we both loved it. But the wildest thing happened when we both got back to work. I saw my next client and immediately after that, I got hit with sorrow. Immense sadness. Seemingly unattached to anything in real time. A plausible reason briefly crossed my mind but I had to hurry to my next session. While there I got a text from Jimmy. I glanced at my phone and said, “You good? I’m super sad all of the sudden.” And then I knew my hunch was right. I called him after the session and said, “It's the end of a season. That’s what we’re feeling.” We thought we were lifers at our school. I was delightfully free marketing for them as I would tell anyone I could how amazing it was. Relationships and memories, some of our first upon moving to Tennessee, now shifting and changing quickly. Our family had been assigned to that school, but the assignment was changing. And there was a moment of unified, tangible grief. One in which only further confirmed to both of us, we are, indeed, being called to hard shift the entire constructs of our family rhythms, at the Lord’s direction. At this point, our hearts were largely settled but we hadn’t said a word to the boys. We made it clear to God that He had five days left to show us we were off course before we officially gave up their coveted spots at school. And in His lovingkindness, He signed His orders with a signature confirmation only He could provide, on that Friday night, as He sent us two new friends we had been trying to get together with for months. A couple who, unbeknownst to us, had a freakishly near identical experience to ours. Even as two career-driven parents. They spent hours showering us with stories of the overwhelming joy, unity, and treasure produced in their family upon their unexpected shift of bringing their children from their beloved Christian school to education within the four walls of their home. By the time we got home, we were no longer just obeying His request to begin homeschooling our children, but we were joyfully thankful for the opportunity. Reflective and awestruck at the many ways He had been preparing us for this for years. All that remained was telling the boys. Gulp. On that Saturday morning, with mama’s eyes widened and breath held, Jimmy told them, “Hey guys! Mom and I have some exciting news for you!” And upon hearing the news, they all three simultaneously began cheering and running circles around each other, declaring their excitement and thankfulness. “Things I Did Not See Coming for $1000”, Alex. There were countless little ways God shone His light on His changing path in those 10 days. Precious, tender, laughable, but also hard, catalytic factors illuminated. Each used for one singular purpose. To arrest our hearts and minds to do an about-face, facing our Path Director, and downloading His new orders, with confidence in His hand upon them. At one point, when I knew this was in fact happening, I remember praying, “But God, I am completely exhausted. How on earth can I add another thing to my plate?” And I distinctly heard him say, “This is where you will find rest.” I’ve experienced enough of God’s ways seeming utterly illogical in every way, while simultaneously experiencing how exceedingly fruitful and prosperous they are every single time, to confidently respond, “I believe you, Lord.” We had to decline enrollment to their school by January 31. Enrollment for our preferred tutorial didn’t open until February 16. And with no Plan B in place, we made the leap, confident that He wouldn’t lead us this far and not open every door we needed. On March 8 all three boys were accepted into their Classical Christian tutorial and our homeschool journey, as two working parents, begins August 15! At the end of the day, the reality is this. Our time with our children is but a vapor. The only two people who stood before God and dedicated our three boys to Him, committing to raise them to love Him and know Him with their whole hearts, souls, and minds, were Jimmy and I. We promised to raise them under His wisdom and guidance, knowing He created them, and clearly He knows something they, and we, need within this shift. Just as He knows exactly what your children need. Each uniquely planted right where He needs them, as we each continuously yield to His leading. So just as I have preached for decades to my families professionally, we are their experts. We can do this. Nobody knows the intricacies of their budding personalities, strengths, weaknesses, and giftings better than we do. Which makes us exceedingly qualified and capable of shepherding their hearts while fostering a love and lifestyle of effective, high-quality learning, in Him, for as long as He calls us to do so. For “such a time as this”. So pay attention to your “nevers”, friends. Because if He can exchange beauty for ashes and the oil of joy for mourning, clearly it’s not difficult for Him to exchange, “we can’t wait” for “we’ll never”. And trust me when I say, we can’t wait.
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Can we talk for a minute? Ok, maybe ten. This is long but worth your time to read to the end. Promise. This is a testimony, a warning, and a call to action more than 10 years in the making. One that commands a platform in this hour. I have a personal vendetta to air. It’s high time I share this with you because I need you to join me in my fury against him, and complete rejection of him. In fact, if you don’t, you’re in trouble. We all are. And I don’t say that lightly. The reality is, many of you are unknowingly giving him free reign to rule over your thoughts, words, and lives. Yet you have no idea of the utter destruction he is capable of. For us, he brought war. Physical, mental, and spiritual war. He sought to destroy our lives. I’m talking, death. He physically tried to kill my husband. Without invitation and without permission he systematically set up camp in our home. He cared not how many times he was asked to leave, how many times he was told how pathetic he was, how powerless he was, or how defeated he was. He wouldn’t yield to the power we thought we had over him. You want to know why? In short, we had absolutely no idea what we were up against. He was not, in fact, powerless or pathetic. He was incredibly powerful and brilliant in the execution of his infiltration and destruction. That was, until his utter decimation in our lives. When God Almighty stepped in. On the seventh day of a seven day fast at the end of a seven year battle. Who is this diabolical enemy I speak of? The Spirit of Fear, friends. It was the Spirit of Fear. And I need you to hear me loud and clear, folks. We, as a people and a nation, are sleeping in his camp. Quite comfortably and willingly, even, albeit unknowingly. Completely unaware of what we’re up against. Largely due to the fact that one of his signature moves is the spiritual deafness and blindness he creates. A long season of toe to toe warfare against this principality of darkness was allowed in our lives for many reasons, one of which was to identify and unveil his work in order to enlighten and equip you against the same enemy as I can say, with a bold confidence, he is at the root of every stitch of darkness within and around you. And if we don’t unify in getting him out of our hearts and our nations, we will never again experience the fullness of life Jesus came to give us on this side of heaven. “The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy. But I have come so that they may have life, and have it more abundantly.” John 10:10 Father, in the Name of Jesus, I ask that you would use these words, enveloped in Your power, to penetrate every heart whose eyes have landed upon them with this truth. You have called the power of this testimony forward for such a time as this. Deliver us, Lord. We don’t stand a chance without You. With my husband’s permission, I share with you. The top of this picture is of us after a service in the church where we met, shortly after we had started dating. It’s a picture I have always kept framed and visible in our home. But not as a memento of the sweetness of a budding, forever relationship. Rather, as a reminder of where we started and what the Lord has done in our lives since. Unknowingly, this picture was taken right before we stepped onto a life-defining battlefield. I gave the Lord the reins to my life in April 2003. Jimmy did the same in June 2003. We met in January 2004, started dating in February 2004, and were both baptized and filled with the Spirit months later. In May 2004, he attended a men’s retreat that forever changed his life. One where he encountered Jesus with such power it left him in tears each time he attempted to recount what took place. He came back as a new creation. Filled to the brim. Ready to step into his God-prepared destiny. Yet only days later, we were sitting together at an Applebee’s high top table, barside, with a 20 oz Brewtus sitting in front of him, a known teetotaler, while I listened in utter shock and dismay as I heard the same man question his purpose in life and will to live. “...Satan comes immediately and takes away the word that was sown in their hearts.” Mark 4:15 And so began our seven year battle against the beast that is the Spirit of Fear. Despite being raised in a Christian home, I knew Jimmy had encountered spiritual darkness all the way back to his childhood that he didn’t understand. But it wasn’t until he declared his newly impassioned fear of the Lord that the enemy sought to extinguish his voice, worship, and purpose. Hell pulled out the big guns and sent them on assignment to take out my husband. But keep this in mind as you read this. The entirety of this battle was Father-filtered. Nothing came upon us during that time that didn’t have clearance from Yeshua, the Great Deliverer. Luke 22: 31-32 was our promise that while Satan had asked the Lord if he could sift us as wheat, that Jesus Himself would be praying us through. And WHEN, not if, we made it through, He would use our victory to strengthen our brethren. Which is exactly what this testimony seeks to do for you. Throughout that season I had a front row seat to the absolute devastation and destruction the spirit of fear was capable of as it systematically attempted to strip my husband of his worth, identity, resilience, voice, worship, purpose, and life. I’m not talking about a mere feeling of fear, but a stronghold under it. An invisible yet very real hold. One that presents itself much more subtly and powerfully than a passing moment of feeling scared. There would be days I would come home from work only to find him sitting on the couch, dressed in his work clothes from head to toe, having never left the house, sitting quietly but completely void of peace. Literally paralized by fear. Irrational, inexplicable, baseless but colossal fear. We would go to church every Sunday morning and for weeks at a time he couldn’t make it past the first worship song. Tormenting fear would come upon him in the sanctuary where his only relief was found in running out. I could see it and feel it coming every time but nothing I said or did could keep him there. It was too unbearable for him. We had a room in our home we called the prayer room where worship music would play around the clock. He would go in there and lay on the floor for hours at a time, Bible opened, praying and reading the Word, seeking relief and breakthrough. Yet even in that environment, while actively praying and worshiping, he would encounter overwhelming feelings of death and mind-gripping fear. He had become dreadful of going to sleep at night. I lost count of how many times over the years demonic manifestations would present themselves in the night as we slept. Yes, visibly and tangibly. How many times he would wake up fighting and struggling to breathe or lie there with his eyes wide open, uncertain of what he had just seen and heard, but certain it wasn’t a dream. Genuine, bonafide, uninvited spiritual warfare. Something we knew very little about when this all began. I remember at one point, after he had fled yet another church service, unable to withstand the weight of the torment he felt as the worship started, I approached one of his spiritual mentors quite passionately and desperately. I distinctly remember crying out, “He is your sheep! Go get him!” In which he responded, “There’s nothing else I can do. He needs medication.” I was furious. And exhausted. If there was anything I knew with every fiber of my being it was that this was a spiritual battle, not chemical. This wasn’t depression. It was oppression. It was deliverance or death and there wasn’t a medication on the planet that could set him free. Only Jesus. If the Creator of the Universe didn’t intervene on Jimmy’s behalf, and soon, I didn’t see any way he could continue to withstand the grips of torment he was living under with each passing day, for years upon years. During that seven year season, we were married, bought our first house, led ministry, conceived and lost our first child, launched two businesses, and continued through life with most people oblivious to the depth and reach that this stronghold had established itself in our lives behind closed doors. I was highly protective of Jimmy during that time. I didn’t share much with many people during those years. Largely because I knew most wouldn’t understand or would judge him, clueless of how real of a fight he was in. I was also very protective of the Lord. He didn’t need me to be but I refused to let the enemy use our misery to diminish the ever present power of God to deliver us at any given moment. I chose my words carefully and guarded my confession over Jimmy. I knew the Lord had hand picked me to be his wife and helpmate which included a steep learning curve in understanding how to strengthen myself in the Lord and stand in the gap on his behalf. In the Lord’s eyes we were one flesh, and half of me was dying. We had gotten to a desperate place where it was no one but me, Jimmy, and Jesus. Those around us simply didn’t know how to help anymore and I had grown weary of asking. In His graciousness, the Father would allow us weeks of relief at a time, where we could come up for air and breathe for a while. But then another round of torment would come. And during those times, when Jimmy would be suffocating under the inexplicable blanket of fear and death, unable to pray or sing or even communicate, really, it would be me and Jesus. Pacing the floors. Crying out. Screaming prayers of deliverance. Shouting praise after praise. Begging. Declaring. Singing. Crying. Questioning. And recovering. On repeat. I was continuously praying for Jimmy from a position of knowing how the Lord saw him rather than what was happening before me. But sometimes I was simply out of words. “How, Father, how is it even possible that this precious man who loves You with his whole heart, who speaks and sings of Your goodness to all who will listen, how, oh, how can this possibly remain upon him. Why won’t You simply deliver him? I know You can. He knows you can. We do not doubt You. Our love for You has not been shaken. But WHY God? Do something! We can’t continue to live like this. Jimmy cannot live like this. HELP!” And help He did. Oh friends, this is where it gets good! The Great Deliverer stepped in with a force so mighty its strength would be felt throughout our bloodline for generations. 1 Peter 5:10 was about to be on full display in our lives. “After you have suffered a while God Himself will perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you.” In the last month of the seventh year of torment, after learning how Jesus taught his disciples that some spiritual things cannot be accomplished without prayer and fasting, Jimmy declared a fast. Intensive, concentrated prayer and water only. For seven days. Seeking to break free from this miserable oppression once and for all. On the morning of the seventh day at 5:30am, he came and stood at my side of the bed. He had been up praying and when he came to awaken me, he was trembling so violently it caused our solid wood king-sized bed to shake, simply by leaning on it. He said, “I need you to come pray with me. It’s about to break.” Ten and a half years later and I still get head to toe goosies just writing that. We stepped into our prayer room and knowing God’s word, that a “chord of three is not easily broken”, we called one of our spiritual mamas. A precious woman and intercessor assigned by the Lord to pray over our lives. One who knew the unrelenting reality of what Jimmy had been fighting. While she lived several states away she would never miss our phone call and this was no exception. Despite it being the wee hours of the morning, Mama Stone answered the phone quickly with, “Praise the Lord!” Yup. That was always her greeting. Forever manning her post. Ready to pray the hell off your life at any given moment. I said, “Mama Stone, I need you to pray with us. It’s about to break. But I need to tell you something. He smells. Not in the fasting, toxins leaving, kind of way. He smells terrible. It's hard to describe.” In her sweet, steady, and deeply southern accent she replied, “Oh, honey. That’s just the spirit of death. This spirit has been trying to take his life. But it's about to leave. Let’s pray.” Um. What? Ok. No time to ponder. It was only later that I learned the smell of sulfur is known to accompany demonic manifestations. Yeah. I said it. This Methodist-raised girl said demonic manifestations. A girl who had come to realize, it doesn't matter whether you understand the principalities of darkness or not, you’re still in a very real war against them. May as well get yourself familiar with how they operate and your authority over them, or they will maintain power over you. But I digress… We then joined together in the simplest prayer of agreement. No shouting or declaring. Nope. Just a simple, “Lord, in the Mighty Name of Jesus, we ask that you would set Your child free. Deliver him for this tormenting spirit, Lord. Now. Spirit of Fear, you get OUT!” And with that, friends, it was gone. Immediately. The spirit of fear had lost its hold. The smell left the room. His trembling completely stopped. His countenance changed. His eyes lit up. He was FREE! Supernaturally free! And then, from the position of his newly established deliverance, he let out a Jericho shout. I’m talking, the kind of roar that could only come from the depths of the pit from which he was rescued. And immediately thereafter, it began to pour upon our house. Not a stitch of rain on the radar. I checked. But it rained and rained as the heavens opened over our home. It was laughable how cleansing, timely, and obvious it was that it was the Lord’s signature on that very moment. Jimmy took a patio chair into the backyard and just sat in the rain. That was a holy rain and he was being fully restored and redeemed by the Way Maker Himself. The same God Who brought His only Son back from the grave had just resurrected my husband from seven years of inexplicable and gut-wrenching torment. When Jimmy came back inside he said, “I’m going to fast three more days. For my bloodline. I don’t ever want my children to go through what I did.” Goliath was dead on the ground. Then he severed his head. For all of hell to see. God won. Again. Yeah baby. At that time we had been trying to get pregnant for nearly 2.5 years after our loss. Battling infertility for years while simultaneously warring through the stronghold of fear were some of the darkest days of my life. As well as the most defining of who I am and Whose I am. Yet months after this colossal breakthrough, we experienced yet another as we were finally pregnant with our rainbow baby, Judah. What precious love of the Father to ensure this battle was fought and won before the seed was passed down our bloodline. His ways are so much higher, folks. You can trust Him. But then, listen to this. Last month, 10.5 years later, through our nine year old, the Lord allowed us to see that the spirit of fear had, in fact, lost its hold on our family. Our six year old was suddenly consumed with fearful thoughts when entering his bedroom, refusing to enter it alone to get his pajamas. This ignited a righteous, mama bear anger in me at a moment’s notice because We. Don’t. Do. Fear. I marched straight back there and began my, “You listen to me! The Lord did not give you…” speech. But before I could even get it rolling, Judah burst forth with an evangelistic fire. One in which we’d never heard come out of him before. He was shaking and his eyes were burning with tears as he declared the goodness of God over his little brother. And His faithfulness to deliver him from his fears stating, “When I think of something that scares me, I ask Jesus, “Was that You?” And then I hear the sound of the Lion of the Tribe of Judah roaring back and I know those thoughts are not Him. Then I roll over and go to sleep. He’ll do it for you too, buddy.” Now that’s a word for all of us, y’all. And yes, we were in tears. Goosies. Does the spirit of fear ever seek to return and gain entry into our lives again? Absolutely. But I know it’s DNA like the back of my hand. It’s fingerprints are like neon lights. It’s sound is perceivable at a mere whisper. It’s strategies are glaringly obvious. It’s fist rears back to knock on our door yet it is met with gail force winds of deliverance over it. Again and again. Where it once had dominion over us in our ignorance and weakness, we now have dominion over it because of the blood and work of Jesus Christ in our lives. “Beauty for ashes. The oil of joy for mourning, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, That they might be called trees of righteousness, The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.” Isaiah 61:3 is the ever-present reality of our redeemed lives in Him. But Brandy, I’ve never experienced anything even close to what Jimmy went through. I’ve felt fear plenty of times in my life, even now, but it has certainly never had a hold on me. Really? Are you certain of that? While it may present itself less obviously, the depth of its reach and purpose are the same. I am fully convinced that the Lord allowed us to see behind the scenes and encounter the full gravity of this spirit for three reasons. One, to see it, on full display, and the immensity of its power in order to sound the alarm when we see it at work. Two, to have the ability to pray with greater power and authority against him. And three, to offer hope and empowerment that you can be in the midst of frightening circumstances without cowering to the spirit of fear attached to them. In fact, you mustn't. Especially now. As it is terrorizing every corner of the Earth. Friends, you absolutely must, I repeat, must get out from under this thing. And if you’re not intentionally and regularly recalibrating your fear detectors (also known as prayer, discernment, and the Word) consider yourself under its influence. It's unrelenting in seeking a point of entry by any means possible. Through the shows you watch, the books you read, the news you ingest, the articles you read, the music you listen to, the games you play and that of your children. It doesn’t care about your age, gender, political party, or spiritual affiliation. It is robbing you blind, stealing time, memories, peace, hope, and relationships. It's working overtime to just get it’s foot in the door, but operating largely off radar. Stop inviting it. Stop entertaining it. Stop justifying it. Stop rationalizing it. Stop spreading it. Stop using it to justify your anger towards, and judgment of, those who aren’t living under it. Stop! Stop! Stop! You have no idea the power this thing has over you or that which it has acquired in our society when left unchecked. Truth was temporarily impenetrable to Jimmy under fear’s grip. And the more truth that was spoken, the more irritated he would become. Not because he didn’t desire the fruit of truth’s freedom. He desperately wanted it to be over. But because the spirit of the fear twisted the very truth that could have set him free into being received as personal attacks, lies, or a lack of empathy. We are seeing this exact phenomenon, daily, throughout our country. Spiritual blindness and deafness as the spirit of fear suffocates our innate common sense, logic, and reasoning to an anoxic death. Truth has become impenetrable. Facts have ceased to matter. Fear has exalted itself as a god in our culture, one that is worshiped through failed public health policies, mandates, and censorship. One that asserts its singular message of terror over the headlines. One that silences every threat of hope. One that you dare not denounce or you will be quickly branded “insensitive, selfish, ignorant, or dangerous.'' And left unchecked, it’s power has given birth to nation-crippling tyranny rooted in dehumanizing greed, power, and division. Fear is a jealous god. And “where there is jealousy and selfish ambition, there you will find disorder and evil of every kind.’ James 3:16 Learn from our seven year battle, friends. Like a recovering drug addict begging you not to play around with this drug, this spirit will not relent in seeking to bind and torment you, and our nation, until you say ENOUGH. There’s a reason God tells us that death and life are in the power of the tongue. And to hold every thought captive. And to guard our hearts for they are the wellspring of life. We haven’t collectively done any of those things well. And we are paying the price. Through widespread, far-reaching spiritual death and division. There was nothing anyone could have done to remove the battle from entering our lives for those seven years. That war was God-appointed, just as His faithfulness to deliver us from it was too. He knew the exact depth and length of the battle required to create in us the resilience and unshakable faith it would take to accomplish what He put us on this planet to do. “Many are the plans of a man’s heart but the Lord directs his path.” If what you are currently fear-gripped by has a role in your Father-filtered story, living in fear won’t stop it from crossing your path. But you can trust that He will carry and strengthen you through it, and use it for your good and for His glory, regardless of what that looks like. Even the most tragic of circumstances. Why live in fear of what “could happen” when your trust is anchored in the reality of God’s goodness and His exceedingly higher ways. “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world!” John 16:33 Perhaps it's because we don't trust Him nearly as much as we say we do. Our steps are ordered by Him. Our redemption is found in Him. Our days are numbered by Him. Our death is appointed by Him. Our wisdom is given from Him. Our health is designed by Him. Our healing comes only from Him. And anything that causes you to believe and live otherwise needs to be confronted, identified, and removed from your life. Like your life depends on it. Because it does. The Spirit of the Lord says, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 If it evokes fear when you hear it, see it, think about it, or read it, get it out of your life! Let the roar of the Lion of the Tribe of Judah roar back at this demonic force. Then roll over, and go to sleep in peace. His peace. “This kind cannot come out by anything but prayer and fasting.” Mark 9:29 Perhaps it's time for us to collectively and fearlessly direct our prayers and, even, fasting at this spirit as I can promise you, its endgame is vastly more far-reaching than sickness or death. “For fear involves torment.” 1 John 4:18 A tormented Bride will never be awake, empowered, and ready to meet her Groom. The enemy of your eternal soul knows that. We are barreling at breakneck speed towards that day yet mind-gripping fear has much of the world laser focused on the illusion of safety and security over the reality of salvation and eternity. And this is one wedding you cannot afford to miss, for the outcome is eternal. Promise. Rev 19:7 “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.” 2 Tim 1:7 On this Election eve, I have a Super Sized Order of Hope and Renewed Vision I'd like to serve you if you're willing to receive it. It's free. Won't cost you anything. But it is better when served with a heaping dose of Faith. If yours has grown cold as the fear of the unknown has set up camp between your ears, go ahead and let this warm it up a bit. This stuff doesn't happen to me just to create memories in a scrapbook.
On Sunday, July 5th, our little family was driving home from a week-long vacation at the beach with my entire family. It's an investment and tremendous blessing my parents have made into our family for 10+ years knowing the treasured time and life-long memories that have been established in doing so. And for the very first time in the history of our trips, my little family was able to go without any contingencies. No work issues forcing a shortened trip, no giant pregnant belly, no babies not sleeping well at night, no hiccups of any kind. Just a perfectly perfect trip with children and cousins who have finally entered the ages that foster independent play while looking after one another. On the morning that it came time to leave we were the last to pull out, taking our time, knowing we had the shortest trip back of everyone. We stopped in town at a few places, grabbed some food, and finally started the trek back home. Noteworthy because this had created several hours worth of distance between us and our family we had vacationed with. About two hours north of the beach, while traveling 70 mph on the interstate, our van produced an obvious and significant shudder. Bad enough all five of us said, "What was that?" I could feel the blood draining from my face but allowed myself a brief moment of denial, as surely it was possible it was nothing. But then, approximately 30 seconds later, it did it again only this time the good ole "Check Engine Light'' began flashing in its typical overdramatic fashion. Allllrighty then. Allow me to check the manual on this one. Mmmmhmm. Okay. Yup. It's bad. Pull over immediately, do not surpass 31mph, and get yourself to the nearest dealership. Except that it was a Sunday. In the middle of southern Alabama. With no town in sight for miles and no dealership closer than an hour's drive, and that's at 70mph. Not. Happening. Fortunately there was an exit within about two miles allowing us to get off the interstate. And you know the one. It's not a town. It's not even a named gas station. But by golly, they can sell you gas from their gravel parking lot and even offer you a toilet and a candy car if you're the adventurous type. We pulled over to the side of the lot, with three little boys already worn out from a week in the sun and hours in the van, and then entered the distinct luxury of an hour and a half, sitting in a parked car with no air conditioning, in July, in southern Alabama, in the pouring down rain and the smell on the toddler's diaper now permeating the miserably humid and oh-so-close air. Brandy, why in the world did you sit there so long? Well friend, let me tell you. Because we quite literally had no idea what to do and no options presenting themselves for a way out. It's Sunday. Nothing is open. The van won't make it to a dealership that's closed anyway. Our family, despite offering to turn around and get us, was more than six hours ahead of us. Because of COVID, AAA would tow our van but not our family. Our own dealership back home, who actually was open, never did answer the phone to offer us any kind of direction. We were stuck. In the middle of nowhere. Close to no one and nothing. With three little boys and a van full of a week's vacation. Jimmy was working constantly, calling and searching, and checking map coordinates. I was barely keeping the tiny humans alive while my own blood pressure sought to take me to bad places in pondering costs, missed work possibilities, tired and hot boys, you name it. Jimmy had diligently established the only possible plan we could see working but it was going to require us driving the van for 20 miles on back roads to a small town, knowing we couldn't exceed 30mph. Also knowing it might not make it and then we wouldn't even be close to a gas station for help. Alright then, we have to try. The rain had stopped. Just put the windows down and let's make a run for it. He put the van in gear and we made it exactly 30 feet before realizing, the van was actually even worse now. This was the moment that I grabbed that dreadful diaper and told Jimmy (while totally faking an inner dignity), "Hey, I'm gonna go throw this away, use the bathroom, and maybe when I come back out you'll have an answer!" The only thing I was truly confident of at that moment was the fact that I had to get away from the growing angst inside that close space. Now hear me out because this was the moment Hope invaded and the Lord delivered the very message I am sharing now. The second I stepped out of the van I could hear the lyrics of a familiar song blaring from a beautiful black SUV parked right next to the dumpster. He was cleaning his car out, with every door open, ensuring all within ear shot could hear the music forthcoming. And in a way only DJ Jazzy Jesus could orchestrate, the moment I stepped out of the van all I could hear was, "Jesus! Our redemption, our salvation, is in His blood!" And my feet, once stepping quickly towards the gas station entrance, made an about face towards this man before I even knew why. I had exactly zero clue how he would help us or what I was even going to say. I just started walking. Almost as if the melodic reminder of the source of my Hope was pulling me towards it. "Excuse me sir. Our van just broke down on our way back to Nashville and we are in a bit of a conundrum." "Really? I'm from Nashville too. My name is Ned. Let's figure out how I can help you." All that he did, friends, was give us his cell phone number and offer to come and get us if we got stranded on our way to the hotel. He was willing to hang out in that spot until we sent him the all clear that we had safely landed at our pit stop. He gave us just enough security to try again so we went for it. And landed safely at the hotel. In a tiny unknown town. That happened to be right next door to an Auto Zone. Which happened to immediately diagnose our problem. Then happened to also have a local US Attorney shopping there. Who heard of our misfortune and set us up with his personal mechanic. Who fixed the problem and had us back on the road the next morning for $238. Flashing check engine lights don't end in $238, my friends. The Lord will provide and direct your steps, if you let Him. But back to the primary message behind this story. That song! I couldn't get those words out of my head but couldn't remember the rest, or who sang it, for the life of me. Finally, two weeks later, I figured it out and immediately went to YouTube to play the first video that popped up to hear it in its entirety. You guys. YOU GUYS!! I'm sitting there watching it, clearly at a large venue full of worshippers when all of the sudden I realized, this was the song used to usher in 2020 at the exact stroke of midnight at The Passion in Atlanta! It's perfectly okay if all of that means nothing to you, what you need to hear is this. That seemingly insignificant moment, of our van breaking down on the side of the road, immersed in one hopeless circumstance after another, that changed on a dime when we met a man whose vehicle was blaring, "JESUS! Our redemption!", was to point to a message for this very hour. Despite the unrelenting narrative and hopelessness declared otherwise, 2020 is a crazy BLESSED year! The Lord knew every single detail of this year before it ever started. Countless prophetic words pointed to the assurance of the Lord's desire to show His greatness, His blessings, His deliverance, and hearts turned towards Him before the clock ever struck midnight. Did He change His mind in March? Not even kind of sort of. And yet here we are. Just like the disciples crossing over the sea with Jesus. The sea that Jesus stated, "WHEN we get to the other side" before going to sleep, still resting peacefully as the storm rolled in. The storm that prompted the disciples to LOSE THEIR MINDS, only resulting in the Lord questioning the reason for their weak faith and rebuking the storm. Which IMMEDIATELY obeyed and stilled at His command, by the way. Just like us, peacefully cruising along the interstate, reflecting on our blessings yet taking for granted their continued assurance, everything came to an abrupt, seemingly hopeless halt. While we were momentarily stuck, the Lord provided an unexpected vessel of deliverance. Who then opened the door for the quick, easy, and seamless solutions waiting on the other side of our new found Hope. Friends, take COURAGE! Don't let your heart be troubled. In fact, REFUSE to let your heart be troubled. Whether your guy wins or loses, whether chaos breaks out, whether things get worse before they get better GOD. IS. NOT. MOVED. He’s not done with this year and He’s not done with this country! He has a plan and it’s a crazy good one! Be excited because you’re a part of it! If your foundation is in the real and living hope that is JESUS you have one singular thing to do in this hour. One. Turn off the noise. Set your eyes on Him. Get lost in His goodness. Redeclare your trust in Him and His faithful goodness and mercy. Declare His darkness-shattering Word over your home and this country. Pray through. And allow Him to carry your heart and mind through the hours, days, and months ahead. It's your only shot at peace and a sound mind. Promise. Conversely, if your foundation is not in Jesus, you’ll never survive the days ahead. And that is by design. He wants you. All of you. He’s graciously allowed our hearts to be offended this year to reveal their content. A circumstance allowed and designed to flush out the Church’s propensity to be ChrINOs, Christians In Name Only. That simply won’t survive where He’s taking us and that’s a GOOD thing. Your instructions, same as above. Guard your hearts, dear ones. Read the simplistic power of these words. And allow yourself the 6:29 minutes it will take to ingest this IV solution of HOPE by listening to this powerful song, tapped directly to your soul. Then repeat until it takes hold of you. (Hillsong UNITED: Good Grace, link below) People Come together Strange as neighbors Our blood is one Children Of generations Of every nation Of kingdom come Don't let your heart be troubled Hold your head up high Don't fear no evil Fix your eyes on this one truth God is madly in love with you Take courage Hold on Be strong Remember where our help comes from Jesus Our redemption Our salvation Is in His blood Jesus Light of heaven Friend forever His kingdom come Swing wide All you heavens Let the praise go up As the walls come down All creation Everything with breath Repeat the sound All His children Clean hands Pure hearts Good grace Good God His Name is Jesus https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqVythdYlaQ |
AuthorAn abundantly impassioned creation loving my Creator and all of the created He's entrusted to me. A professional talker. An amateur writer. A lover of words. A seeker of Truth. Archives
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