I have had a very frustrating day today. One filled with isolation, hiding and overcoming some selfish desires and sins that I had committed over the past day. Even after the days building up to this one, days of feeling like a rock, having clarity in who I am becoming and the victories over where I've been, it all ended today, and the dreaded sense of being alone and having no one returned.
Alone. Isolated. Afraid. Suspicious. Death was knocking once again.
I was looking forward to the "Men's Night" at Valleybrook. I was looking forward to being around men who I adore and Love, who could build into me, and who I could just be with to know that I was safe. That I was OK, even after messing up, choosing selfishness and sin over redemption and victory. To bask in the glow of what Jesus had done for me even at my worst. Yet, the isolation continued. Every where I turned I was being called somewhere else, had to move, or just couldn't settle in. The worst part was I was in production, running the slides, so I couldn't get into worship or the messages as much as I wanted to because I had to concentrate on doing my job. Even when I arrived, I said hello to three people, then was whisked away to get the booth set up.
Of course, most of that was my fault. I had left home late because I was too busy isolating at home playing with my new phone, causing me to miss out on relationship before it all began. I was even supposed to meet with a beloved friend, but an unexpected event occurred and we cancelled our dinner together last moment, and so instead of heading down early anyway, I chose to numb out and play on my phone.
Three powerful people, powerful men of the Lord, shared their stories of overcoming and how Jesus had healed them. I couldn't focus on the first two stories. I was finding myself isolating even more. Wishing how I could share my story. Why them and not me? My story had significance. It has some deep meaning. It could set men free from their darkest shame, their darkest hours.
Then God hit me with his voice, so clear and present, "Ken...you are jealous and prideful. You want your story to make you a celebrity, not to set people free."
Ouch. Jealousy, pride, selfishness, need for affirmation...rooted deep.
One of the moderators shared a very powerful verse, Nehemiah 6:3b "...I am doing a great work and I cannot come down..." That verse burned deep in my head. God is doing great work in me, through his son Jesus. My heart is being transformed. I learned how important it was for me to quit choosing my desires and sin over what Jesus is doing in my life. I realized how deep and serious his work is going in me, and how if I come down from what he is doing, I will be sunk. But why did I still feel this isolation? This isolation that has been haunting me all day, throwing roadblocks in my path so I couldn't connect with others when it mattered most?
The third speaker shared his story. I so dearly Love the man who was sharing. He is a brother who I've only known a few weeks, but have this deep draw to him. It was really cool listening to his story, again, but this time in new light. Seeing how God is doing great works in him and how he needs to stay on the wall and not get distracted. I saw a fervor and excitement in his eyes and heard it in his voice like never before. How he was done running from his enemies, that God is going to deliver him and he had nothing to fear anymore. In that moment, I knew God had anointed him for his next steps, and my heart rejoiced.
Yet I was still alone.
I couldn't even meet with him after the service was over, as by the time I had shut production down, most of the people had left, and he was surrounded by other people who had some very clear words for him. So I left isolated and alone. I felt the isolation was because of my choosing sin over truth and life. How I had put myself there because of my actions. How I had pushed people away and had no friends because I was a fake and fraud. Even on the car ride home to share my struggle with another friend, was shot down. I was leaving a voice mail and it was too long. The very sweet voice mail voice shut me off half sentence. So I texted him the rest of the story and it took a few times to actually get through.
More roadblocks. More isolation.
I shared some of this struggle with Chalsea, and we talked about the discouragement of the past few days and how God is working on some parts of our heart that we realized weren't even there. When we finished talking, she went to bed, and God called me to, ironically, write a blog post--one that will be shared with others...
Then God spoke.
He showed me a picture of the game operation. This was one of my favorite games growing up as a kid. I enjoyed how you had to be perfectly steady in how you removed the bread basket and funny bone and all the other parts. The point of the game was to have as steady a hand as a surgeon. You had to use one hand. You couldn't cheat, like I tried many times, to use two--one for a steadying fulcrum and one for the surgery--because that would put too much pressure on the playing surface and set off the alarm.
It needed precision and perfect control.
God then told me to quit moving. Quit running away from him. The more I squirmed and tried to wrestle him so I could get away, the more damage I was doing. He needed me to quit moving so he could continue his perfect operation on me. The more I wanted control, the more I dug my heels in, wrestled back and tried to run away, the less chances he had to work on me.
Like a surgeon, God needed me to be still so he could do his work. A surgeon can't operate on a patient who is moving. If he was able to it would look more like Texas Chainsaw Massacre than a sterile operating room. The same is with God. He can heal wounds and rip out sin and evil desires from a heart even if the person is moving, but it won't be as effective. It will take longer, be really messy, and we'd miss half the procedure anyway because we'd be too busy calling the shots and reaching for the control by running away.
Quit moving. I am pinning you down to I can finish my work in you.
I found myself giving in realizing that I don't have to be heard. I don't have to share my story. I don't have to surround myself with others just to feel safe or to be filled up. I will be seen anyway. I will be filled anyway. I will be safe anyway.
God is in control. He wants to finish the great work he has started in me.
I don't have to be a celebrity or be in the spotlight to help people heal, to be the agent of change God is calling me to be. To be the great warrior and leader he needs me to be for his people. I just need to submit and be obedient to what he tells me to do and then do it. As I mess up along the way, lose focus or choose sin over life, He'll still show me grace and allow me to continue on his journey.
No longer do I have to run, hide and get it all right. I can just be.
I'm sure there will be times I choose to isolate, choose to reach for control instead of faith and trust, and choose to blatantly turn my back, wrestle or run from God, but He will be there to catch me when I fall. He will dust me off, put the gown back on me, pin me down so I can't hurt myself, and continue to do His good work inside me until I'm healed. Just as a good surgeon would do.
I love you,
Ken
