Wrestling with Obedience

 Last night, I really wrestled with my mind, something I rarely do with such veracity.

I had a first meet/ date with a lady I met online in Baton Rouge. Long story, short : mid-way thru the dinner, she basically said she wasn't interested in seeing me again. Nothing rude or mean, just matter of factly. (my friend Todd, my dating counselor, said, "sounds like a bitch!" LOL)

Driving home, I was angry, frustrated, hurt, and just flipping tired of the seemingly endless chase to find someone to date.  I even woke up pissed off.

The doubts, fears, questions rattled non-stop in my mind, and I thought, "Man, I have to get my mind in obedience with God, just trust His timing, His plan."   It didn't work at that moment.

Then like God always does, He speaks to me through others.

First, I watched a devotional by Tony Evans, where he said we have to go to God's truth, and that truth will set us free.

Then, I went to Church of the King service, and guess what series started today?

MINDGAMES.

Are you kidding me!!!???  

It's as if God wrote today's message just for me.

Pastor Steve spoke of renewing our minds with God's word & promises.  And how the devil can't read your mind, but can plant thoughts & see how you react.  God's word is the sword to fend off the devil's ploys.

Well, the devil got me last night. But God said "I got you" today.  God spoke to me about breaking down strongholds - the barriers the devil puts in my mind to frustrate me, to anger me, to cause loneliness and hurt.

"... to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ..."

II Corinthians 10:5

The strongholds come, and will continue to come, but God's word will break them down.

Amen.

A can of green beans

When my mom and I moved back to New Orleans from Texas around 1975ish (funny I really don't know why we moved back...), I can remember my mom doing grocery shopping for my dad.

Not until years later, did I give thought to how odd this entire relationship was.

Fact is my dad never did drive. So this was part of this oddity. I've asked my sisters why he didn't drive, and they never really could explain.

Well, one vivid memory I have was my dad fussing at my mom, as she unloaded groceries from those heavy brown paper bags in his tiny apartment kitchen.  It was the memory of him, fussing at her at prices of little stuff... like....

A can of green beans.

I can hear him saying, "why did you pay 39 cents for these, when they were on sale for 35 cents?"

Instead of being grateful, he chose to nit-pick about pennies.  I am sure these were only few of the seeds sown that reaped a spirit of poverty that I have battled my entire life, even now almost 58 years into this joyous life.

I've prayed about it. I've fought it. But very often (really up until the last 5-6 years), the poverty darkness clouded my spirit of generosity, the latter I yearned to know, to feel.

Truth is this poverty spirit was a major thorn in my marriage, and bothered Denise to no end. We never talked about this (lack of communication about difficult subjects another major marital problem...)

I truly don't want part of my legacy to be that of meagerness, but of fruitfulness, of generosity in all things: time, money, service.

Lord, give me a spirit of giving, of generosity to others. Help me to see opportunities to share my blessings with others around me.

“In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16

"“A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed.” Proverbs 11:25

the hole

As joyous as I walk daily, knowing in my heart that God has such great plans still for my life, I still have a hole.

In moments when I am alone in my house, even as worship fills my ears thru ear buds, I am often lonely. 

I stare down into that hole of being alone, of not having someone to love, to hold, to kiss, to snuggle with, and to share my deepest emotions.

Sadness touches my mind, as I see others find a mate to be with, even if it's just casual dating.  How did they find someone?  I've wandered in this dessert of singleness, and fight the doubt of ever finding someone.

A scene is Yellowstone, resonates in my soul...  Beth and Rip, who love each other wildly, both realize that the hurt they've experienced in past relationships, might taint them from ever really feeling love again. I cried when I heard this, wondering if that was me.. that the depths of her affair might never really truly heal, that I won't ever feel that unconditional love I felt.

But I have to grasp tightly to God, pushing away the searing hurt, the dark doubt, and believe that He will still make a way for that next love of my life.

But man, the seeming endless wait - now more than 7 years! - sure is tough.

God is Jehovah Jireh, my great provider. 

My Life story Part 2

 Joy is both a choice and a gift.

I can remember from a very early age, that my mom was an incredibly upbeat and positive person, always laughing whistling, dancing adn singing.

She would always say, "There but for the grace of God go I."  I captured early that no matter my circumstances, there was someone out there much worse off, someone who had much less than me.

My mom was a church-goer, not overly religious but more of your standard Roman Catholic, go to Sunday mass types. But I could tell she had that spirit of joy and caring for others that was very different than most.  

She would stop at bus stops, and give people rides all the time.  She would talk to strangers out and about, and just be nice to them.  She chose to be joyful in midst of having little income, and battling the guilt of leaving my dad.

Do I know for sure she was guilt ridden? No, I don't.  But all signs pointed to this being the case.  She would grocery shop for him for many years after she left him.  She didn't fight him much about the lack of financial support he gave us (he didn't give her full child-support, I know this)

You may be wondering, how did she leave my dad? And why?

I only remember that one day, in middle of 2nd grade, I was called into the office of J C Ellis elementary, and told to pack up my locker.  When I arrived home, there was large U Haul moving van in the driveway.  At that moment, we drove to Corpus Christi, TX, and lived with my sister Kathy, her husband Rick and their 4 small children, Dennis, Brian, Missy and Beth.

Eventually, we moved to a tiny apartment in Clearlake City, right outside of Houston.

I have fond memories of playing make-believe superhero games with Dennis and Brian, poor Brian, the youngest of us 3 boys, always the tortured and beat up on bad guy.  

Not so fond memory, was my sister Kathy always seemingly singling me out for fussing at and other disciplinary actions.

My mom was a very unskilled worker, pretty sure she only graduated high school. Her mom and dad,  Agnus and Peter Paul Catalani, directly from Germany and Italy respectively, owned a very successful restaurant in San Antonio, where my mom was born and eventually met my father,  Harry Stanley Marcon.  Story is that my mom's parents also ran a bootleg beer distribution in evenings from the restaurant, supplying the military which had a base in San Antonio.

I didn't get a chance to really know my grandparents on mom's side. By this time, I was 9-10, and they were already in their 80s.  All I remember was Peter Paul sitting in living room, all the furniture wrapped in heavy plastic and house reeked of mothballs,  him watching TV and Agnus always fussing at him.  He would reply in Italian!   And the few times, we went to visit them, she would always make homemade peach ice cream in their backyard in a old-time wooden ice-cream maker.

Note: my mom and I moved to TX with her boyfriend, guy named Wayne, who she was having an affair with (of which I had no idea about prior). Not much to share about him: he was nice, an alcoholic, who worked on the Mississippi River as a tug boat deckhand.