Love Conquered My Grief

Both my mother and father passed away within a span of four weeks, and my heart was broken. I was totally stricken with grief.

After they were gone, I embarked on a journey through a dark, lonely place. But it was there I learned to cry out to God from the very deepest part of my heart.

So deep was the pain that my tears could have been blood. I needed to get past it, but grief was taking over my life.

I was a wife and mother with a full-time job. In addition to that, I was involved in ministries that needed my attention. I wanted to begin to heal. So, why couldn’t I?

The more I focused on my pain, the stronger it became. I was fearful of the thought of my parents no longer being here, and I began having thoughts about harming myself. I was deteriorating and lost more than 30 pounds.

I struggled to believe that even God could take this devastating pain away from me. I allowed my deep grief to smother what I knew of who He was and what He could do.

I know now that God was there in the midst of my pain. I left Him, but He never left me.

God Himself met me in a very special church service one Sunday. Today, I am in my right mind because He touched me and healed my grief.

I heard God’s voice say to me: “Lillian, I took your mother and father, but I did not take the sun, moon stars or flowers. I left these things here for you to continue to go on living.”

I can go on, and I can experience God’s love in His creation. I worship, praise and thank Him today for His grace and mercy.

And I am living in His strength and using my faith to conquer my pain. I am also using my experience to help others who are struggling with grief. I know how to pray for them.




God Led Me Out

When facing an eating disorder, your world becomes nothing but endless fear! Being anorexic, I was destroying my family, depleting our finances and driving my husband to the brink of a breakdown.

I don’t remember admitting to myself that my eating disorder was an addiction. However, I do remember how God reached down to me in love and led me out of it.

My road to recovery started when my husband, Tom, took me by the hand and assured me that we would get through this together. He suggested that I get professional help.

Wanting the pain that filled our world to stop for my family, I agreed to go. I found a counselor who specialized in anorexia.

The pitiful truths of my mental and physical health were devastating to me. After all, I was a 30-something-year-old wife and mother, not a 16-year-old supermodel. I thought only young girls developed eating disorders.

During my initial visit, I felt a calm that I had not experienced in a long time. I learned that eating disorders have little to do with food.

I had convinced myself that there were only two kinds of food: good and bad. Food was an enemy you could beat.

I only had to be strong and smart enough to play the game. Once I learned my thinking was totally convoluted, my total recovery began to happen.

After a series of medical tests, a number of doctors offered educated opinions on what the best treatment would be to restore my physical health. The doctors wanted to proceed cautiously, so a target date was set. If my body was not responding by then, medication would be necessary.

But God had something different in mind. His plan allowed me to see the power and depth of His love. He restored my health immediately.

The hand of my Redeemer healed me, overruling the plans of the doctors. He gave back to me the treasure of my health one week before my treatments were scheduled to start.

It’s hard to believe that I went from being totally broken to being healed both mentally and spiritually in an instant. Thanks to our gracious God, I was healed and restored, and there was never a need for any medication or treatment.

God’s mercy and faithfulness now fill the void in my heart that I had lived with for so long. He showed me the way out of my situation by being the good shepherd.

My husband and I have restored our relationships to each other and to God. Thankfully, I was released before it was too late. Praise God who keeps His Word!

 




The Lord is Waiting

I’m a big fan of schedules. I prefer the security of a solid plan and a definitive timeframe. I hate having to wait, and I hate having to rush.

However, being an obsessive planner can sometimes make living with God’s timing a little difficult. We have all had that conversation with God when we say: “Hello! Your timing could use a little work.” I have said this—more than once.

Six years ago my husband and I were expecting our first child. We were so excited. But our hopes ended in a miscarriage.

Six months later, it happened again—a second miscarriage. This was definitely not how I planned things to be. According to my timeframe, God was late.

Four years ago, when my mom passed away, I wasn’t ready to let her go. This time, God was early.

At the time, I felt totally abandoned. I kept waiting for Him to do something—anything—that would make it better. But as much as I wanted to feel better, I wasn’t willing to let Him into my life. I guess I was afraid He’d make things worse.

Pain has a way of affecting your memory. I had forgotten God’s promises that He has a plan for my life that will give me hope and a future (see Jer. 29:11), and that His ways are higher than mine (see Is. 55:8). So I just kept waiting for the pain to vanish on its own, and for everything in my life to go back to the way it was.

Looking back on it now, I can see that God was also waiting. He was waiting for me to realize that I couldn’t go through it alone­—that I wasn’t meant to go through it alone. I needed Him to take over my life, and allow me to get to know Him again.

I still have days when I hurt a lot. The pain did not disappear, but it doesn’t drag me down anymore because I know I’m not going through it alone. We’re never beyond the reach of God’s love. “Great is His faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning” (Lam. 3:23, NLT).

We serve a faithful God who will never leave nor forsake us (see Heb. 13:5). All we have to do is look beyond our circumstances. When we do, we’ll see that He’s there, and know that He’s been there all along—just waiting.




He is There 24/7

I first experienced God’s healing power at the age of 10, when I had meningitis. When the enemy attacked my body, he didn’t realize that I had a mother who believed and trusted God.

I remember it as though it were yesterday when my mother came to the hospital to see me, but found me quarantined and unable to walk. She immediately called on the best physician she knew: Jesus.

With authority, she spoke, “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk!” Instantly, I arose from the hospital bed, healed.

I never thought that I would ever face another crisis in my life. But in March 1996, while showering one day, I discovered a lump in my left breast. After telling my doctor what I had found, I underwent a needle aspiration, a mammogram and a sonogram.

A week later I received the diagnosis: breast cancer. I wanted to have a pity party, but I heard God say: “Don’t cry. Just praise me.” And I did so throughout my lumpectomy, chemotherapy and radiation.

God is so faithful. I never suffered from the side effects of the treatment. And now, 11 years later, the incision is barely noticeable. I can tell anyone who is battling cancer or any other attack of the enemy to trust God and stand on His promises.

Always seek God, trust Him and stay in His Word. During times of crisis, find strength and comfort in Psalms 23, 91 and 103. Sometimes it may be hard to focus on God and His promises but keep praising Him, for He is worthy.

During this whole ordeal, I had maintained the peace that only God could give. I had not shed a tear.

Two years after my recovery, I had returned home after church one Sunday night, and as I lay in bed, I began thanking and praising God for His faithfulness and healing power. He said, “It’s OK for you to cry now.”

Tears of thanksgiving and joy began to flow for everything God had done for me. I know God’s promises are true, and I’m a living testimony of that.

 




His Faithfulness Is Our Shield

Early one morning, as I made my way through the darkness of my family room to pray, I had a vision. It was of a snake, six feet long, that had wrapped its body around the walls of the room.

When the vision ended, I began to pray and walk in a circle around the room, pointing my finger at the floor and repeating, “Praise be to the Lord my Rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle” (Ps. 144:1, NIV). I knew this was spiritual warfare!

I was still praying as the sun rose, and I noticed a small earthworm lying on the floor in the middle of the room. Not knowing how it got there, I pointed to it as I continued to pray.

Amazingly, the worm died. Realizing that this was the work of the Lord, I picked up the worm with a napkin and threw it outside.

I returned to the room to pray, only to notice that another earthworm had now appeared in the same place as the first. Although I began to pray as before, this worm did not die and I threw it out alive.

The Lord helped me understand that we often think that Satan is as big as the snake in my vision, but he is only a tiny little worm. God has given us “authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy” (Luke 10:19). We are overcomers, and the enemy is under our feet.

I believe the second worm was a symbol of God’s judgment. Isaiah wrote: “‘And they will go out and look upon the dead bodies of those who rebelled against Me; their worm will not die, nor will their fire be quenched, and they will be loathsome to all mankind'” (Is. 66:24).

A short time after having this vision, I was forced to confront the enemy face to face. One day a family member became very angry with me and threatened me with violence. His hands were inches from my neck, and the look on his face told me that he intended to strangle me.

Miraculously, he was not able to touch me. Instead, he stepped back and retreated. I pointed my finger at him and commanded him to leave the house immediately; and he did.

A year later, the family member asked me for forgiveness. I assured him that I had done so a few days after the incident. Psalm 91:4 says, “He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” God had prepared me, covered me with His feathers, shielded me and given me refuge from the enemy’s attack.

 




God’s Perfect Love

Whack! Miss Mazy’s yardstick slammed down on a classmate’s desk in front of me. “No homework?” she queried. He responded with a whimper.

As Miss Mazy resumed collecting our homework, we opened our religion books. “God’s Love—1 John 4” was the heading on the page she commanded me to read. I choked on the words “Perfect love drives out fear” (v. 18, NIV). I wondered why it didn’t drive away my fear of Miss Mazy.

Someone poked me. I looked back at Tammy, who snorted a laugh. Miss Mazy ordered Tammy out of the room and moved toward me. “You,” she began. Coffee breath pelted my nose. “You sponge!”

I recoiled. Remembering the description of sponges from our science class, I realized that Miss Mazy had just called me a motionless, spineless filter feeder. Unfortunately, Miss Mazy’s accusation was accurate. Rarely asking or answering questions during class and never socializing, I remained a sponge through eighth grade.

Later, upon transferring to a public high school, I tried to overcome my insecurities with partying, drinking and drugs. My marriage at 19—the result of an unplanned pregnancy—ended after the birth of my second child.

On weekends when my children were away with my ex-husband, I would host all-night parties, barhop or seek out men for one-night stands. When the kids were home, I pretended to be self-disciplined and strong.

Occasionally, my neighbor would take my kids to church. One day I came along to hear them sing in the children’s choir. As the children sang “Jesus Loves Me,” I mused whether or not He loved filter-feeding sponges.

The pastor began his sermon with the words, “In the fourth chapter of First John, God’s love….”

“Oh no,” I groaned, flashing back to Miss Mazy and her religion class. But this was different. God was definitely speaking through the pastor, reminding me that He sent His only Son because He loved me.

I accepted the Lord’s invitation to be washed clean by His blood that evening, turning my back on sponginess and looking into the solid face of Jesus. Now when I’m spineless, He’s strong. When empty pleasures tempt me, He offers me the bread of life. And there is nothing spongy about that.




My First True Love Relationship

I am a 44-year-old woman, and for the first time in my life, I feel truly loved. I am proud to say that I have a love relationship with my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ! My search for love, acceptance and approval began in childhood. My parents divorced when I was young, so I didn’t have a father at home. When I looked around my community, I saw few positive male role models. As a result, I grew up with a distorted view of men.

This view only got worse when, at 17, I was raped by two men at a mall. Then, at 19, I married a man who was verbally and physically abusive. Men are not capable of loving, I decided—a deception from the enemy that led me to develop a same-sex attraction.

I stayed married for a while and even had children, but I also began “experimenting” with women. I didn’t consider myself to be gay, and I never referred to my activity as bisexual. I just thought I was “bi-curious.” I was convinced that God would overlook my occasional alternative lifestyle choice because He knew that men had hurt me.

My husband and I divorced when I was 25, and the next 18 years were filled with hurt, disappointment, loneliness and pain. I went in and out of relationships with men and occasionally with women. I was in a desperate search for someone to love me!

On February 23, 2006, my search ended. That’s when I went to my current church for the first time. During the service, my pastor said, “Some people get hurt in relationships, and they turn to same-sex relationships for love and comfort. This is not acceptable to God.” He made it clear that God loves the homosexual but hates the sin.

I was shocked. I felt as if my pastor were talking directly to me. Later he asked if he could pray for me. He placed his hands on the sides of my face, and as he prayed, I felt something being pulled from my ears. It was the beginning of my deliverance and healing.

Since that day, God has continued to renew my mind and deliver me from deceptive thinking. I am waiting for Him to totally heal me and bless me with a husband; but in the meantime, Jesus is my husband. He allows me to feel His love and presence daily. I don’t have to search anymore!




God’s Dream

When I was 10 years old, I had a dream that I was wearing a white robe and standing behind a podium in the middle of a field. People were all around me. I began moving my mouth and motioning toward the people with my arms.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but God was giving me a picture of His calling on my life. Many years later, in 1987, I accepted that call. In 1990 I was licensed as an evangelist in the Church of God in Christ. God’s dream seemed to be coming true!

Then one day a male friend began to talk to me about some concerns in his marriage. I believed I was doing ministry—but my willingness to listen turned into an opportunity for a sexual encounter. I became pregnant instantly.

My first thought was, I can’t have this baby. I made three appointments to have an abortion, but I never followed through. Finally I told God, “If You will be with me, I will stand in the midst of adversity and have this baby.”

One Sunday after I made this decision, my pastor said these words from the pulpit: “Somebody here is contemplating abortion. If you stand, God says He will be with you.” Tears began running down my face!

When I finally told my pastor and my family that I was pregnant, I was “silenced” in the church. I knew God had forgiven me for the sin, but I also knew that I had to face the consequences.

My son was born on July 5, 1992. A few months later, my pastor put me back in ministry. He said that God was still going to use me because He still had need of me. Some people walked out the first time I stood up to minister, but I kept going. I knew that God still had a plan for my life.

I got married in 1999 and gave birth to another son in 2000. The next year a prominent speaker invited me to speak at a conference in 2002. Since then I have traveled the nation ministering the Word of God.

What the devil meant for destruction, God has used for good. This year I am celebrating 20 years in ministry. My 15-year-old son is an anointed organist and music minister. Has God given you a dream? Remember, nothing can stop the plans of God from coming to pass!

 




Live Chat With Alvin Slaughter

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Listen to gospel legend Alvin Slaughter discuss overcoming one of life’s greatest struggles: fear. He gives tips to help combat fear.




Race Based Politics

Last week, Rep. Artur Davis (D) lost his primary bid for governor of Alabama in a crushing defeat. His opponent, Ron Sparks, won by 25 points in a contest which some believe shows that the race-based politics of the south have not changed. This conclusion has been postulated because traditional, non-elected black political stakeholders seem to have temporarily derailed the career of one of the Democratic Party’s fastest rising black stars.

Before the emergence of President Barack Obama on the national presidential scene, lots of Democrats felt that Davis would eventually become the nation’s first black president – especially members of the Congressional Black Caucus (CBC). His credentials were incredible. In fact he was a classmate of President Obama at Harvard Law. He was incredibly articulate and what he lacked in charismatic speeches, he made up for in strategic thinking and networking ability.

Davis won his congressional seat in 2002 defeating incumbent Earl Hilliard in a strongly Republican state. In those early days, he quickly became the darling of the CBC. In 2008, Davis successfully ran President Obama’s primary campaign against Hillary Clinton. He was the architect of the statewide strategy, which avoided discussing race, but built a multi-racial coalition, which went around the traditional black power brokers (who all supported Clinton). Naturally, he presented his friend and schoolmate as a centrist candidate who would be less polarizing than Hillary Clinton. The message that Davis echoed in Alabama was that the days of race-based identity politics were over and a new era of politics had dawned.

As a result of this brilliant messaging, Obama won over 80 percent of the black primary vote, although the state went for McCain with over 60 percent of the vote in the actual presidential election. After the Obama victory, Davis felt encouraged to run for the governor’s seat in Alabama. He wanted to break an Alabama glass ceiling. This would have made him the first black governor in the state, which was the home of the original capital of the confederacy -Montgomery, Ala. Alabama is the same state in which Martin Luther King spearheaded the civil rights movement in 1955 and where George Wallace, a former governor, became famous for the statement, “segregation now and segregation for ever” in 1963.

For all the reasons cited above, Davis believed that this was his time to change the course of Alabama history. He used the strategy he had created for Obama and his state connections to run as a centrist candidate for governor. Further, while back in D.C., he also followed through with becoming a centrist voice, working across the political aisles with Republicans on several issues and ultimately becoming the only member of the CBC to vote against the administration’s healthcare plan.

Unfortunately for Davis, while he was heading towards the center, the administration was tacking hard left. Davis’ political senses told him that only a “moderate” or blue dog Democrat with a proven record of bridge building could win the highest post in his Republican-controlled, home state. Therefore, he essentially used the same methodology in his race for governor as he did in the 2008 primary presidential contest for Obama.

For months the polls seemed to be saying that Davis’ strategy was working and that a great number of Alabama’s Democrats seemed to be on board with him. All was going well until late last year. In November, Jesse Jackson made the statement, “You can’t vote against healthcare and call yourself a black man.” Although Jackson refused to name the person he was referring to, the direction of the dig was obvious.

Davis’ response was measured, politically correct but not persuasive. “One of the reasons that I like and admire Rev. Jesse Jackson is that 21 years ago he inspired the idea that a black politician would not be judged simply as a black leader,” Davis wrote. In an almost tongue-in-cheek way he wrote, “The best way to honor Rev. Jackson’s legacy is to decline to engage in an argument with him that begins and ends with race.”

Unfortunately after being ignored in 2010 just like they were in 2008, black Democratic leaders in Alabama did the unthinkable. They endorsed Ron Sparks, a white liberal, who supported the administration’s healthcare plan. One group rationalized their support for Sparks by saying, “Artur Davis voted against President Obama’s healthcare package to further his ambitions when the president needed him most.”

The turnout for this primary was down by over 31 percent, which meant that Davis failed the excitement test in this campaign. The state did not buy the “historic” dimension of his race. Therefore, he experienced an across-the-board defeat statewide. In some counties, he lost by 30 and 40 points. Davis joins the list (along with Georgia’s Andrew Young, North Carolina’s Harvey Gantt, and Tennessee’s Harold Ford) of southern black candidates who couldn’t get enough black and white votes to win.

After Obama’s victory in the Iowa Caucuses in January 2008, syndicated columnist George Will declared that the senator’s impressive campaign for the White House signaled the end of purely race-based politics in America. Perhaps the defeat of Artur Davis shows us that extraordinary skill is needed to capitalize on this new environment.

We certainly don’t need loud, angry race-hustlers playing the race card when it is inappropriate. America needs leaders with level heads. It is obvious that Democrats are experimenting with new models of leadership and they are breaking through previous race boundaries. There have only been three black governors since reconstruction – all have been Democrats. Unfortunately for Davis, he will not be the fourth.

I am hopeful that out of the field of 28 black Republican candidates for Congress this year, that there will be at least one or two who will climb the political ladder of success. These folks may give the nation’s voters new choices, new options and a way to escape the politics of race.