spiritual warfare

Lately I’ve been feeling….dry.

And by “lately” I mean for like the last 6 months. And by “dry” I mean a little dead on the inside. Spiritually.

I have heard about spiritual desert seasons people go through. When they feel distant from God.

And I’ve seen the cheesy church signs that say things like:
“Feeling distant from God?
Who moved – you or Him?”

Thanks for that extra guilt and shame, church sign. In a time when I already feel lost and confused.

The fact of the matter is, I have been marching steadily toward the purpose and the mission to which God has called me. Not away from it or Him. So why do I feel so….blah?

At the beginning, when I started, when I was writing my book and right after I finished, when I started to tell people about it, and started telling my story, every day was exciting and new!! Filled with limitless potential! Every day was fulfilling. I had so much to get out and I watched people’s lives change right in front of me.

But now, I struggle with the feeling that maybe I’ve given all I had to give? Maybe now I’m all used up and empty. Dried out. Do I have anything left to offer people?

I feel guilty for not reading as much lately as I should be. I know my growth is directly related to how much I’m reading. But the hunger I had the Summer before I wrote my book – the Summer I devoured sixteen other books on marriage, divorce and remarriage in four months – has waned….no, disappeared. And I don’t know why.

I don’t even know what I would want to learn about next.
And I don’t want to only keep reading and studying marriage and relationships, I want to be able to offer more than that. Plus, I feel like I’ve said everything I have to say about that, in my book.

…..Which still isn’t published.

And that is what makes me feel the most drained and dry.

I’ve passed all three goals and deadlines I gave myself to get it out. I thought surely I’d be passing it on the shelf at Barnes & Noble by now. But I’m stiiiilllll editing. Which is not exciting, or new, or life-giving. It sucks every ounce of energy and enthusiasm I have for my book right out of me.

It took me 3 months to write my book, and I’ve been editing for 9. And I’m not even done with the first round.

And after I get finished with that, I’ve got to learn everything there is to learn about self-publishing. To make sure I do it right and make the best choices.

I assumed writing a book was the hardest part about writing a book. And I assumed someone else would be taking care of all this other stuff. I just want it out, and in people’s hands, so I can be moving on. Progressing to the next step in this journey, in my ministry.

But it’s not. And I’m not. I’m stuck.

I used to hear and see God leading me and moving other people and things into place. But now I feel like He’s being silent, and I don’t know why.

Recently, I heard about the “500 years of silence” the Israelites experienced between the time the Messiah was prophesied to them and the birth of Jesus. 500 years. He didn’t speak another word to them directly, or through his prophets at all.

500…five-HUNDRED…Years.

Entire generations died, just waiting.

This is the stretch of time between where the Old Testament ends and the New Testament begins. (Random fun fact: Alexander the Great lived in that 500 year time span, which is why, he is a real person but not recorded in the Bible.)

Were these years of silence their own fault? Disobedience?

Or, was there a greater purpose to it?

Did God just stop caring about them?

Did God stop caring about me? Did I do something wrong?

I wrote this in December 2015, but hadn’t published it yet because I didn’t have answers to these questions – I didn’t even know what all questions to ask – and it was scary and confusing. I have answers now. Lots of them. Not all of them, but lots of them.

And I’ll be sharing them with you soon.

Stay tuned.

In the meantime, have you ever felt like you were in a dry season? Are you in one now? How long did it last?

Skydiving is was on my bucket list. It’s number 56, in fact. I kind of had it penciled in for this Summer, and then my best friend turned 40 and decided that’s what he wanted to do to celebrate. BINGO!

Weeks leading up to the event I was pure bottled excitement and eager anticipation.

My husband had a scheduling conflict arise so that he was not able to join us, and I remember having a strange little flutter of uneasiness. Am I going to be able to do this without him? Won’t I need him there? Then I reminded myself, I lived a pretty routine life for 25 years before I met him, eight of which included my best friend who I was going to be with, so I would be just fine.

As the day drew closer, I started to feel my excitement turn slightly to nervousness and the night before, I was progressively overcome by sheer, paralyzing terror.

I took a long shower to try and relax my nerves, but sitting on the floor in the steam the words of the mandatory safety waiver video played through my head on a haunting loop, “Skydiving is dangerous and can cause serious injury, or even DEATH. Nothing about skydiving is guaranteed. No parachute manufacturer is perfect, no parachute packer is perfect, no skydiving company is perfect, no instructor is perfect. Equipment can fail. Instructors can fail. Weather can cause unsafe conditions. Strong winds can cause a parachute to collapse….”

And then this thought went through my mind: Was I going to die the next day? Followed by: What if I did? How badly would my husband be crushed? Would he blame himself? How long would his life be derailed? Is this the last day I’m going to spend with him?

I got out of the shower and the words continued to avalanche. I distinctly remember as I smeared lotion on my legs thinking, what if something worse happens – like we crash and I am paralyzed? I just met a quadriplegic who’s walking her faith journey out with God, and feels closer to God now than she ever has. What if God allows that same thing to happen to me? What if God tries to teach me something through an injury? I like my legs. I like being able to use them. Is this the last time I’m going to be able to move them freely myself?

A movie reel played in my head as it zoomed out on this moment: a bird’s eye view of me lotioning my legs was the foreshadowing of what I didn’t know was coming the next day. It’s actually beautifully cinematic, I darkly narrated to myself. Should I just not go through with it to avoid even the possibility of disaster?

I should pray. But, is this something I am even allowed to pray about? Or am I not allowed to ask for protection for voluntarily jumping out of a plane – literally putting my own life at risk? Am I tempting fate? Tempting the prowling lion looking for lives to devour? Was I moving outside that hedge of supernatural covering I’d so clearly seen and felt protecting me?

I thought about all the things I knew I was created to do that were still undone, and wondered if I was risking letting Satan steal them?

I was almost sick to my stomach with all the thoughts swarming in my head.

I was terrified to say anything out loud, or at least wise enough to know what not to let come out of my mouth. I didn’t want to give life to any of these fears – as statistically improbable or irrational as they were. The seed had been planted and my enemy – the biggest liar in history – was having a field day with it!

I was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling when my husband walked in the room. I’m sure by my deflated body-language alone he could tell I was troubled by something.

“What’s wrong?”

I hesitated to answer. “I think I’m a little bit nervous about tomorrow.”

“Yeah? Are you scared?”

“No, I don’t think I’m scared, I’m just nervous I think.”

“Well, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

A little defensively, “No, I want to go, I want to go skydiving. I’m going to go at some point in my life, so there’s no reason for it not to be tomorrow. I’m just nervous.”

And he said to me again, “I’m just saying, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to, you can back out. And it’s ok.”

My eyes lingered on his, trying to communicate what I was feeling without saying the words. All that came out was, “I don’t think that’s what I need you to say to me right now.”

“Oh.” He said. “What do you need me to say to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to pray for you? Would that help?”

Knowing my friend, I said, “Well, I’m sure Keith will pray tomorrow before we all go up, but, yes, I think that would help.”

He grabbed my hand and began his prayer by thanking God for the day, and for our time together, for Keith and our friendship. He prayed over the rest of our plans for the weekend. For himself to get everything he needed out of the men’s retreat he was attending. He prayed that I would have fun the next day, that I would enjoy every moment and that I wouldn’t be nervous. And then, without a peep out of me, he literally started naming every single specific aspect of the jump the next day, eliminating each of those fears, one-by-one as if he was checking them off a list,

“And God, we ask that you watch over Rachel and Keith, and everyone else skydiving tomorrow. That the weather would be clear and perfect, that there would be no wind, that the plane would fly safely, that all the staff and instructors would be alert and focused, that all the equipment would perform as designed, that each harness and safety clip would function properly, and the parachute would deploy without issue, we ask for a safe landing….” Tears streamed down my face as I received his words and a peaceful calm settled over my spirit.

I thanked him for praying, and he hugged me for a long time.

“Feel better?”

“Yes! 100%!”

“Not nervous anymore?”

“Nope. Not one bit. I’m pumped!”

He left the room and then I started to think about how sly the devil can be, how he uses the most strategic offenses to wage the warfare where he knows he can win – in our minds. Not only was he was trying to stop me from living life. From experiencing something new and invigorating. From creating a lasting memory with some of my closest and most special friends. But, from living boldly and confidently.

I thought about how conniving he had been, how he had slowly watered and pruned those thoughts as soon as they had been planted in my mind from that video.

What if I had listened to him and not gone? What if I had let those thoughts overtake me and given life to those fears, given life to death, given it permission to come for me that next day?

The tongue is a “small part of the body” (James 3:5), yet Proverbs 18:21 says it “has the power of life and death.” This holds true whether we’re speaking of spiritual, physical, or emotional “life and death.”

And that’s when I got mad. How dare he?

I have already conquered this area of my life so many times and in so many ways. I have already learned to control my thoughts and mind my words. I mean, this is beginner faith stuff. I learned this a looooong time ago. There is a whole chapter on it in my book for crying out loud!! How dare he work his way back in there? Satan is not welcome in my mind.

You May Have To.jpg

And then I saw how easy it was, how quickly he worked back into that driver’s seat, darting my thoughts all over the place. How rapidly I spiraled down that dark, dangerous rabbit hole. And I was reminded again how vitally important it is to constantly be renewing and guarding my mind. It’s not a one-time thing. It’s an every day thing.

And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. (- Romans 12:2)

I felt like Vince Lombardi was standing in front of me, pigskin in hand, uttering, “This is a football.” The basics. The basics are the basics for a reason, in sports or faith or any other arena of life. They are building blocks, the foundation on which we build [the rest] upon. And if your foundation starts weakening, it won’t be long until your whole house crumbles.

Now am I saying it was God’s “will” for me to go skydiving? Maybe I am. I don’t know. But I do know it is NOT God’s will for me to live a life of fear and timidity, weak and limited, a life of mediocrity.

God has created and called each and every one of us to a life FULL of adventure, of taking new ground, of winning battles (even if they are just in our minds), and of doing it all for and with and because of Him. Because he has empowered us to do so.
And don’t you forget it. The next time those voices of fear and uncertainty start to creep in, silence them quickly before they paralyze your faith. Because if you don’t, you’ll miss out on awesome stuff like this: