A Veil Toward Forgiveness

Normally, I remember people when I have spoken with them— especially when I have seen their name in print. I’ve had a pretty good track record of at least recognizing that I have met someone before, even if I don’t exactly recall the setting.

Last night, however, I experienced something new to me.

I have spent the past four weeks engaged in a school for learning to operate in the power of the Holy Spirit. The class is facilitated by a young man with a sweet and loving heart. I have thoroughly been enjoying each week, and have been excited to get to know the others in the class as we grow together in this deeper work.

This past session, we went into the community to practice hearing God’s voice to bring light and encouragement to others. I ended up in this young leader’s car, and we had an enlightening experience together. On the way back, he said to me, “Linda, you know we have met before, right?”

I didn’t remember him, so I asked him where we met.

When he told me, I was totally astonished. 

First of all, I was surprised that I didn’t recognize him, although it had only been a few years since our meeting. Secondly, I was even more shocked that I didn’t remember him because our earlier meeting was not a good one.

He was running a bookstore, and when my first two books came out in print.  I was hoping to partner with this store to launch my new career as an author.

This young man was most unkind, and his not-at-all subtle rejection was not an easy pill to swallow.

I moved on, but the experience was one I wished to never repeat.

I wondered why I did not recognize him or his name. As soon as he told me, I of course placed the name with face, along with this quite painful memory. I was totally amazed that during this entire four weeks of our course together, I did not make this connection on my own. It was as if a veil was placed over my heart, which was quickly lifted when the timing was just right.

He told me that he was a very different person then, and I instantly felt nothing but complete forgiveness. I could tell he wasn’t sure I meant it, but I genuinely did forgive him.  We hugged, and spent some time together, just chatting.

Two lessons come to mind. First, how easy it is to forgive someone when one gets to see the other in a fully positive light. Second, how important it is to not allow the past to be a filter for the present.

I am so grateful that I was not biased by my previous encounters, and able to completely embrace this new setting without preconceived thoughts. It is so easy to put labels on others. I might have dismissed this loving leader in light of our unfortunate prior meeting. It would have been easy to be untrusting and on-guard.

Instead, I was kept in the dark—almost like a veil over my memory banks—until I had a well-established new truth about this leader. 

I wonder if I would have remained reserved, and guarded had it been otherwise.

Thankfully, for whatever reason, things happened in a much better way.  Forgiveness is so much easier without the hurt attached.

Front Doors

Today during my morning walk, I felt the Holy Spirit nudging me to pay attention to the doors of all of the houses in my neighborhood. I have walked by these homes countless times, but frankly, I never before paid full attention to only the doors. It was actually quite intriguing.

First, I wondered about the decision to have a storm door or not. When we bought our home, it did not have a screened storm door, and that was one of the very first things we added. It is important for us to have the front door open as much as possible, allowing a fresh breeze in. Of course on hot summer days and the frigid days of winter, the door remains closed, but as much as possible the door is open. I think this sends the message, “you are welcome here.” That is certainly very true for us.

While on my walk, I noticed there were a few homes without storm doors. I took note of that along the way. Some had such beautiful, ornate front doors, it was obvious the owners did not want anything detracting from the main entrance they had selected. Some looked as though there might have been a storm door at one time, but may have become in disrepair, leaving a bit of hardware behind.  Others seemed to just be without a storm door because the door was not used much. To me this seemed to express a somewhat “not welcome” tone.

I also noted the decision regarding color of the main door. Some chose to match trim around the rest of the house, while others had doors with a totally different pop of color. About half were simply white. Some had ornate windows; others had side windows. Some had fancy detailing; others very simple. Some had beautiful decorations regaling the door. Others remained unadorned.

What struck me most about this attention to the neighborhood doors is that no two were alike. Not anywhere. This made me think how the doors to our minds are very similar. We do not take in information the same as one another. We do not embrace the outside world the same, and we certainly do not shield ourselves from what we don’t want in the same manner.

As I am pondering the differences of the doors in my neighborhood, I am struck by the thought as to how we each receive the truth of God in our lives. Some of us have an open front door, with just a bug screen between to filter out the unwanted pests, but freely allow the goodness of the Holy Spirit to enter in. Jesus said, “I stand at the door and knock.” If my front door is open, I can so easily hear Him, even at a whisper.  If I have created a fortress, or a façade of overly ornate coverings, it might be harder to create an open invitation. Do I need the colors just so, and everything so perfect that it makes it difficult to be open to something other than my own design? Do I have the resemblance of an opening, but really don’t expect it to be used much, preferring to enter another way? Are my decorations and designs that I have created more important than those who actually come inside?

Perhaps I am simply making too much of a connection here, but the point is, we do all maintain our own entryways. Some more than others.

So how open are you to receiving the One who stands and knocks?

Where I Don't Want to Be

Today, I’m feeling a bit blue. Yesterday marked the twentieth anniversary of my father’s passing, and today is now nine years since my late husband left this life. I don’t know if that is why the sadness is here or not.  I have also had a relapse in my skin problem around my eyes, reminding me of this thorn in the flesh that is such an incredible annoyance.

So with my itchy, swollen, and rather hideous eyes, and my sad heart, I am once again feeling alone.

I wonder if this is how Jesus felt when he was praying in the garden for there to be another way out, and his friends couldn’t bother to stay awake in prayer for him? I wonder how many other times prior to this that he felt that no one understood what was happening.  That had to be moments filled with loneliness for him.

I wonder if this is how Jonah felt when he knew he had been disobedient and was getting thrown overboard. He stayed in the belly of the great fish for three days and three nights. I wonder what he was feeling?  Abandoned? Alone? Asked to do what he dreaded most?

I wonder if this is how Deborah felt when she tried to get Barak to get off his duff and provide leadership? Did she use the feelings she had to rise into her calling?

Or what about Joseph who was sold into slavery and then thrown into prison for being righteous and pure in heart? How must he have felt when others promised they would not forget him there, and did?

How about when Jesus was crucified and his disciples were left feeling helpless and lost?

When Peter and Paul were thrown into prison multiple times—did they even for a moment think about how alone they were? If they did, it sure didn’t last.

So now, I am pondering their resilience. How did they so quickly take their situation and turn it into the glory of God?  How did they stay their mind on the rock of Christ so that their emotions didn’t overtake their thoughts?

Today, I am calling on that power to overcome the destructive thoughts that lead to a spiral downward into self. This is never a good place to be.

As I am typing these words, I already am feeling a lift in my spirit. It is such a blessing to know that God never leaves us where we do not want to be.

Grateful!

Breaker Anointing

My father was a Lieutenant in the Army during WWII. His troops were the front of the very front lines (scouts for the land artillery).  Dad didn’t like to talk much about the war. I only knew a few stories, the most compelling being the liberation of Dachau. His men were the first American soldiers to step foot into the camp on that day of freedom. What he remembered most was the overwhelming stench of death that assaulted every soldier, even miles before they arrived at the concentration camp, causing each one of them to vomit their breakfast before actually entering into that horrendous scene. 

I visited Dachau in 1973. Standing before the photographs displayed in their visitor’s center was almost more than I could bear. I cannot imagine what my father felt seeing these skeletal survivors in the flesh. I can’t begin to fathom the bittersweet joy of bringing freedom to these tortured souls.

I am reminded of this story because lately, I am hearing prophesy regarding the breaker anointing that is upon me. I am in awe and wonder at what it means to be a barrier breaker. I know this is my purpose, and I see inklings of preparation and training all along the way of my life’s journey.

My first thought is how could this be? Yet, remembering my father’s legacy as an officer leading his men into such an amazing act of deliverance into freedom, I now realize that, of course, this is my inheritance. The gift from my father is in my DNA to break open the chains that bind God’s people in darkness. It is my destiny to help destroy the barriers that keep others from tasting the goodness of the light of Christ. I hope I never have to witness the horror of freeing prisoners from a concentration camp, along with its attached emotional upheaval, and yet, in my heart of hearts, I also know that bringing a soul from death to life is really the same thing.

Yesterday, I had a word of prophecy spoken over me that my name should not be Locke, but rather “UnLock.”

I am excited to see how God is going to reveal more of this purpose in me, as I partner with Him in the Kingdom work of Jesus.