Faith

Six Months

/ SaxophoneWife / Leave a comment

In the winter of Hannah’s 5th grade year, a fellow PTA mom invited me to join a Bible study she attended. Our church did not have a women’s Bible study, and I knew my spiritual life was in rough shape. Plus, I felt ashamed to not go. It was once a week, yet it was one of the hardest commitments I had ever made. Each time I walked into that church, I felt such shame. It was as if I was walking through the hallway naked. I cannot think of another time in my life I have ever felt so uncomfortable. You would think I’d have recognized this as evidence of my sinful heart, but I was deeply deceived. I had fully given myself over to vain and selfish pursuits.

This was in 2001. We lived in small town on the New England seacoast. I loved living there, and our little family had a very nice life. Doug earned a generous salary that afforded me a very comfortable, stay-at-home life doing whatever pleased me. That included volunteering at our daughter’s school.

I was an ambitious volunteer, eager to make a place for myself amongst the PTA moms. By the end of Hannah’s 4th grade year, I had proven myself enough to be elected Co-President. I was delighted, because I loved running the show, being a big fish in that tiny, little pond. I cannot believe now how much value I placed on something so insignificant, but I did. It was all about me. I said it was all about the children—especially my own—but I was deceiving myself.

As I write this now, I can see how the Enemy had gotten a hold of my heart. I had such good and sincere motives when it all began, but I was investing my talents and energy into something that was corrupt at its core. Why was I expecting a secular organization, fueled by greed, to do what was right for the children? Why was I expecting them to have integrity? Why was I trying to make them see the injustice of their priorities? And, why was I giving endless hours of my time to help everyone else’s children, while time with my own daughter was often compromised by those “important” civic meetings?

Yet, despite the fact the Holy Spirit was so faithful to shine the light of truth on that situation, I just kept pressing on. “I’ll just write one more editorial.”  “I’ll just come up with an even better fund-raiser.”  “I’ll just ask for one more meeting.” It didn’t matter what we were trying to do. My motives were good, and there was just enough success from one month to the next to keep me thinking it was all worth it, but my heart was wicked.

Then, something happened. Something very unexpected, that took me totally by surprise.

It was April. I sat in a circle with the other nice ladies in that Bible study, Bibles and folders in our lap. The leader of the group asked a question that hadn’t been in our study notes. She asked us to just say the first thing that came to mind, without analyzing it. You know how we tend to do that sometimes?

Now, before I share her question, I want to ask you to do the same. Don’t analyze the question. Just say the first thing that comes to mind.

Her question was: “What would you do, if you knew for sure that Jesus Christ was coming (the Rapture of the church) in six months?”

The answer that came to my mind, before I could stop it, diffuse it, or edit it, shocked me to my core.

“I would support my husband’s ministry.”

What?! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing myself say, but I knew any other answer would be a bold face lie. Yet, didn’t I already support him? Hadn’t I encouraged him in everything he did for the Lord? After all, he wasn’t called to full-time ministry. He was just a church volunteer, playing his instrument, leading worship. How did I not support him?

Quick as a flash, my head played back the countless times in recent years that he’d given time to a PTA event, or stayed home with Hannah so I could go to a meeting. I thought of the many, many times he was the only father present at events, because I’d asked him to take a day off to help.

I honestly did not have to try to remember anything, because the flood of condemning memories just kept coming.

But, wasn’t he just very supportive? Wasn’t it good for him to help?

I hate to say this, but I just didn’t get it. I prayed a prayer of some description before the Bible study finished, committing myself, asking for help, blah, blah, blah. Then, I went home and went back to work. I talked myself right out of that Holy Spirit conviction.

June came. The Bible study had ended for the summer, and 5th grade was coming to an end, too. Hannah would soon be promoted to the junior high. PTA elections were held, and I was unanimously voted-in to continue my reign, and I made sure there would be no more co- in my title. I had been saddled with a dead weight co-president long enough. I wanted the title I deserved.

It’s true.

I was really that wicked, that puffed-up. I was shameless. I was good at my job, though. I got things done. Was any other mom willing to work as hard as I did? It was disgusting how much I worked, and disgusting how wicked I’d become, but I kept telling myself I was doing a good thing.

So, at the beginning of June my big production, the Volunteer Appreciation Banquet, was coming together beautifully. I’d done all the Teacher Appreciation Week gifts myself, and did the Volunteer Appreciation gifts myself, too. Food was arranged. Beautiful invitations had been designed by yours truly, and each was mailed in an envelope I’d addressed myself. The big event was just days away. I essentially had my crown on order for the coming year at the junior high. It had been the best year anyone could ever recall, and everyone told me so. The Superintendent and School Board respected me and consulted with me. Teachers appreciated me. Parents depended on me.

And, then it happened.

I woke up one lovely, warm, and sunny day and couldn’t speak. I could barely swallow. I had an extreme case of strep throat. I went to bed perfectly well, and woke-up sicker than I could ever remember being. I hadn’t been exposed to strep, and no one I knew could think of anyone they knew with strep—it’s not a common disease in June. Yet, I was sick, nonetheless. Stuck in bed. Speechless, powerless, and all alone.

I knew almost instantly that this was an act of God.

For almost two weeks, I sat in bed silent. I couldn’t even whisper. I had to turn everything over to my co-president. She’d call with questions, and I’d write the answers down for Doug to tell her for me. I couldn’t believe what was happening. And, I was not just speechless, I was sick. I had no strength, no will to get out of bed. The big event, the pièce de résistance I’d been planning for over a year, would go forward without me.

But, during that season of silence, God finally got me to stop and listen. And, He had one thing to tell me: “Come home.”

Within weeks, my husband’s was going to take a dramatic change. My purpose in his life was going to be turned upside down, and finally defined according biblical truth and not human tradition. I had no idea what was ahead of me, but God knew. And, He knew I was unprepared and ill-equipped. I had proudly and foolishly ignored His calls to repentance, awareness, and preparedness. I needed to be humbled, and I needed to come home in every way.

“Today, if you will hear His voice,
Do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion.” 
Hebrews 3:13-15 (NKJV)

God bless you all. ❤

The Hard Work of Being a Christian Wife

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(I wrote this a long time ago, but never published it. Why? Well, that’s for another blog post. In any case, I’m publishing it today. And, I am publishing it without editing or second-guessing or yielding to my insecurities. So, typos and all, here it is for now. Maybe, one day I’ll come back and edit it and make it better.)

I sat down with a woman years ago. She had discovered that her husband was visiting prostitutes. She knew he had returned to drinking, but it was the prostitutes that had brought her to the point that she finally reached out for help.

That’s pretty typical. Wives will put up with a lot of bad behavior, even helping keep their husband’s secret sin a secret, until finally their husband just goes too far. Things get out of hand. “It was one thing when he would do XYZ, but now he’s not doing ABC and I think he might be doing LMNOP. I don’t know what’s going on. I just can’t take it anymore.“

Why Did She Take It At All?

So, back to my question: why do women put up with their husband’s bad behavior at all? Well, what I have heard from wives over and over is that they believe their only option is to endure: don’t complain, submit, hold your tongue. If they do a good enough job of suffering in silence, God will finally award them with a godly husband by whatever means necessary, including divorce. Mind you, they don’t know that’s what they believe; they would never confess that with their mouth. Yet, it’s true: too many women are believing that God is going to honor their passivity. God couldn’t possibly be expecting them to do something about their husband’s error or wrong inclinations. They believe thy just have to keep praying for God to help them endure.

That’s the first mistake Christian wives make. I don’t fault them, though. Most Christian women have not been spiritually equipped for marriage. I don’t know if that’s because it takes a lot of work to teach spiritual truths, or if it’s because – well, no. That’s why. Discipling humans is hard work, and churches just aren’t doing it. If a woman isn’t blessed to have a Titus 2 Woman in her life, she’s in trouble. Satan will be sure her ears are filled with every manner of secular humanist thought out there, counseling her right out of her marriage and her faith.

Is there a place for long-suffering? Absolutely! This is a fruit of the Holy Spirit’s work in our life. Just remember that long-suffering is patience, which in this scenario I think we can define as an evidence of our faith in God’s unfinished work. It is a spiritual condition. Instead of walking in patient faith in God, though, wives are white-knuckling their way through a little bit of Hell on Earth.

This is what I think happens to the godly wife full of every good intention towards her husband, whose faith is being worn down with his every transgression: she begins to tolerate his sin. Tolerance is easily mistaken for patience, aka long-suffering. We tolerate his coming home late; we tolerate his ignoring calls or texts; we tolerate his temper or offensive language. We tolerate his making place for boozing and using. We tolerate his unloving attitudes and behaviors. We tolerate his not attending family gatherings, or his skipping church, or his not serving God. Then, before we know it, sin has taken root and established itself in our husband’s life, and consequently in our marriage and family.

What’s A Christian Wife To Do?

Knowing your Christian husband is making wrong choices and not holding him accountable to the Word of God for those choices is the wrong kind of silence. That is not iron sharpening iron. That is not Galatians 6:2. It might make life easier for you in the moment, but in the long run that little transgression (it was just one drink, it was just one look, it was just one time, etc.) will lead him to the brink of spiritual death and your marriage and family to utter destruction.

For the record: a man who confesses Christ is Lord is a Christian. You should not be making allowances for any of the baggage (spiritual, emotional, or otherwise) that he brings with him to your marriage – or picks up after his, “I do.” There is no excuse for sin. Trauma or temperament or lifelong habits may be the cause of his struggle, but they are not to be accepted as a permission slip for sin. Unrepentant sin should have no place in a Christian’s life.

DON’T WRITE THE END OF HIS STORY

Yes, men have free will and they can choose to reject exhortation, accountability, or correction. However, we must not decide the end of his story. Who are we to determine God is done with him?

NO. As long as there is breath, there is hope. So, he’s rebellious to truth. Okay. That’s very bad! However, as a wife we still have a spiritual influence in our husband’s life. We exercise that influence in the spirit, through prayer and standing in the gap. We commit to intercede for him, because that’s what be a godly wife means. Through our tears, we call out to the Father for mercy. In our heartache, we believe by faith every promise of deliverance the Word has given. We cast off fear in the name of Jesus, and put on a garment of praise.

Thank God for God. Thank God for the Holy Spirit and His kind and loving ministry to our broken hearts. Thank God for tiny mustard-size seeds of faith that cannot be denied. Thank God for prophetic words received over the years, but never understood until that moment when we needed them, when the Holy Spirit suddenly opens our eyes to see that not only was He calling us to a deeper faith and great intimacy with Him, but that He had gone ahead, before we ever knew we would marry this man, and had made provision for the loving support and godly friendship we would need in this hard place. Just look around. Reach out to them.

For me, I didn’t think I could possibly take one more emotional hit, yet here was the Holy Spirit teaching me that in my place of greatest pain, it was still not about me. My marriage wasn’t about having a good husband, but about being a good wife. When it was the hardest, if I would yield my will to God’s and allow the Holy Spirit to use me as my husband’s help meet (a spiritual calling on every wife, FYI), He would meet me in that place and give me all I needed.

A Final Exhortations

Make your requests known to God. Think on those things that glorify God. Have faith for the unbelievable and impossible. Being a biblical wife to a spiritually high maintenance man is very hard. At times you feel crushed under the weight of that calling—and, I am convinced it is a calling. The unrepentant husband will tax you heavily, but remember that your prayers for him are for God to be Master, Lord, and Savior. He is willful and continue to reject the truth, but God is on your side. Make your requests known. Stop him, God! Convict him, Holy Spirit! Have mercy on him! Forgive him! Spare him! Save him!

Don’t stop praying. Ask the Holy Spirit how to pray for him! Pray in the Spirit over him. Reject whatsoever things are unlovely and untrue. Banish the lies of Satan from your mind and remember that Fear is a wicked spirit.

Read Philippians 4.

Forgive him. Again. And, again. There is so much spiritual power in forgiveness!

Love him. Be the hands of Christ whenever you touch him. Bless him that curses you. Do good to those that despitefully use you.

Speak truth out loud, because faith comes by hearing—you’re talking to yourself!

If you need prayer, but have no one else to go to, I will pray for you.

Remember, the Holy Spirit is your Comfort and your Help. Depend on Him. He will be there for you. When I had no one to confide in, no one who still had faith or hope for my husband, the Holy Spirit was there. Bless the Lord!

❤️

One Year

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I pulled an all-nighter,

listening to IHOP-KC,

when I received a notification.

The BBC.

I stopped to check it.

Israel invaded.

Israel invaded?

Suddenly, everything changed.

The atmosphere was different.

I felt it in my spirit.

Time would be measured

Differently

Now.

What really mattered changed forever.

What was I reading,

seeing,

hearing?

It took me time to process

what I was seeing…

live footage from the invaders.

The captors.

The demons.

How could they do this?

Where was the IDF?

How did they get in?

Her face!

Noa’s face.

I watched her abduction

over and over.

How were they getting

away with this?

So many questions.

Yet,

in this year

we have seen

the miraculous

hand of God

intervene

again and again.

Incredible.

Impossible.

But, God.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.

🕊️

How Could This Happen?

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“Oh!”

She had just opened her phone to reply to a text.

“I only saw this now. I’m so sorry.” His voice doesn’t sound normal. She starts to reply to the message, as he calls out to her from the other room. “T was found unresponsive in his apartment!” Emotion is filling his voice.

Her first thought, the first words that come out of her mouth: “Is he okay? Where is he?” She is running down a mental checklist of what they will need to take with them to the hospital, but suddenly realizes what unresponsive means. Now, her mind is flooded. Thoughts race into her consciousness. The computer crashes. T is dead?

Reboot and reload and thoughts and images and words and sounds and so many memories fill up the screen. Tears explode. Questions. So many questions. Who wrote you? Who’s that? How do they know? What time did it happen? Do the girls know? Who are your writing? How could this happen?

“I should write J.”

Just then, J calls. Wanted to make sure they knew. too. He’s weeping. They’re all weeping. She begins to realize how many people are hurting right now—how many people his life touched. How could this happen?

The weight of grief falls so instantly. Grasping the size of this loss is impossible. There was no preparation for this, no opportunity to prepare for how bad it would feel. How could this happen?

God is on everyone’s mind. His sovereignty. His mercy. His kindness. God knows the worth of a life, the impact. The thoughts just keep coming. His first time at The Farm. The light in his eyes each time he mentions his girls. The tears that flow when he tells of God’s goodness. Or, when he mourns those who are still lost in their brokenness and sin. How could this happen?

Emails and text messages, carefully worded, fly away to the ones who will want to know. Their hearts are not prepared to be broken, and words cannot relieve the pain they are about to feel. All week long it’s, “Did you tell…? What about…? Does…know?”

Tears stop and start suddenly. Sleepless nights roll into one long state of unbelief. His best friend. How could this happen?

-cg

Please, click to read about Tom. He should be known and remembered.

John Stamos and a Bout of Nostalgia

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Feeling a little nostalgic today, so I’m blogging old school style. Remember that kind of blogging? No one was trying to make money or get a book a deal. People were just connecting to people who shared something in common with them: they liked to put their thoughts and feelings into words. Eventually, you found yourself returning to the pages where you had a little more in common with a person, and then settled in with the people you decided you liked – and they liked you, too. It was a world of its own, and I’m glad I got to be a part of it. I’m glad I’m still connected with some of those blogging friends, and they’ve now become real friends. That’s pretty cool.

What’d I tell you. I’m feeling nostalgic. Everything has a little halo around it.

So, how did I find myself here? Well, it was kind of weird and unexpected. John Stamos has published a memoir, so he’s all over Instagram, pumping out lots of reels to promote himself. One of those reels fell into my feed, and I ended up looking at his posts.

Now, you have to understand something about John Stamos. He lived in my husband’s neighborhood. So, in my mind that associates him forever with Southern California, specifically the neighborhood where my husband grew-up. That means memories of the first time I met his folks, and we watched that weird John Irving movie with Robin Williams together. It means memories of the last time I saw Doug before Boston, and I really thought it was really the last time I’d ever see him.

It reminds me of the incredibly awkward Christmas evening the future in-laws spent with their future daughter-in-law, alone, when she gave them the stupidest gift in the history of future daughter-in-law gifts. It’s so embarrassing that I can’t even tell you.

It reminds me of the drive to their place from my apartment in Long Beach—that wonderful California Bungalow design is probably still my favorite. And, when I think about that apartment I think about Doug dropping me off and sitting outside talking. What did we talk about then?

That’s when we sat in his car so long I ran in and grabbed a blanket, because it got cold. No, of course, I didn’t invite him to come inside. Never even crossed my mind. It was too much fun to sit together in his dumb little car.

We fell in love in that dumb car. We fell in love over Rocko’s Broccoli-Cheese Soup. We fell in love over a cases of 20# paper and a Xerox 9500. We fell in love over slices from Pizzamania. We fell in love over long-distance phone calls between Boston and Long Beach. I did see him, again.

As I sit at my laptop here, looking around this spare room of ours, I see so much evidence of who we are today, and who were back then. He’s pretty focused: saxophones, keyboards, his laptop and recording gear, HopeMail envelopes everywhere. Shelves of Bibles and overheads and instrument stands stuck here and there. A slide whistle. And, I’m all over the place. Baskets, balloons, and bin. Art I wish I had more wall space to hang. Sewing. Baptismal robes. Stacks of letters from inmates I want to write back. Mementos. Craft supplies. Christmas gifts. Paper in so many forms. Surprises. NBF work. Bins of bins.

Anyway, as I was thinking about John Stamos and the way he talked about his marriage to his first wife, I got really sad. Apparently he had a lot of issues in their relationship and was very angry at her after the divorce. I watched two clips of him talking about her, and there’s this hurt still there. I guess he had to come up with a resolution to his feelings, though, so in the two different clips he blamed himself for not focusing more on his career during their marriage. He said that’s why the marriage failed. That’s a stupid answer. And, he looks uncomfortable saying it. It’s like, dude, you know you’re lying, and we know it, too. But, the truth slips out in between his twitching and grimacing: he was ready to have a family. He’d achieved as much fame as he needed, and wanted babies now. She, on the other hand, was a star on the rise. She didn’t want babies. She didn’t want to be a wife and mother, yet. He still resents her for that. I am forced to believe he actually really loved her. That made me sad. He’s married now to a little girl who gave me the son he should have had 30 years ago. He struggles to say that famous line people always say when they have regrets, but want to sound like they don’t: “It was all meant to be.”

Like cheese fries.

So, I look around at this room that I used to be ashamed of people seeing – so messy, right? I must be a flawed person. As Snoopy would say, “Blech.” Give me a break. I do a lot of stuff and I live in an 800-square-foot apartment. I love this room. It’s where I meet with God. My desk and chair and laptop work best together right in this spot. I love looking across the desk at my husband doing his thing. Wayfarers’ legit started in this room. It’s all good. It’s our life. It’s who we were 35 years ago amplified by time and God’s goodness. Did I mention the dried flowers? My mother-in-law’s knitting basket? This is what making a life looks like. It’s not messy: it’s full. It’s beautiful. It’s touched with the unexpected sticky note on the wall from a grandbaby. I Love You.

It’s a good life.
A life touched by God’s grace,
A life preserved by God’s mercy.

When I fell in love with Doug, I didn’t know what that would mean. John’s (I think we should be on a a first-name basis by this point) book is called, If You Would Have Told Me. Can’t we all say that about our lives? I mean, what is this life? What is this kind of goodness called? I know life could have taken other turns. There were so many times we could have disobeyed God. Well, I mean, there were so many times we did. I think God gave us just enough chances: infinite. Every day, twelves times a day, and twelve times more.

I’ve told Doug recently that I do believe there are some things that could have been better—gone better—if we’d obeyed sooner. It was not all meant to be, John. God didn’t require all that pain and sin and stress and whatever. We could have made better choices financially, when he was working a “real” job. We could have exercised more. We could have prayed so much more and turned off the TV a lot sooner and put away vain ambitions earlier. I would have gladly skipped all my nonsense years, when I let the Enemy get such a stronghold. So much vanity.

God hears those prayers, though. Those desperate prayers we cry out to Him, those prayer promises we make to Him—vows we can never keep, but sometimes we really mean them.

He looks down on us with mercy, too. He knows what we’re made of, where we came from, how strong (or weak) a stuff we’re made of, and He has compassion on us. I know He had compassion on me.

It was January, 1988. Doug’s grandfather had passed away and he had to go to Arizona for the funeral. It was just a few days, but it felt so long. No cell phones in those days, remember? No text messages, no photos on social media, no long-distance phone calls. And, we were just friends, of course. Co-workers. Hadn’t he just flirted shamelssly with what’s-her-name at the Christmas party, and bought his girlfriend a leather jacket? He didn’t call her as soon as he got back into town, though. “Can we meet at Pizzamania?” He was full of thoughts. Those shorts and his sneakers and his dad’s old button-down. His grandfather Marty was on his mind. He was struck by how much his faith was a part of his life. He admired it, but God had no place in his life. “Would you ever marry a man who didn’t believe in God?”

Well, he believed by the time he proposed. A little baby faith, but I sure wasn’t a faith giant. My faith was more about my religion in those days. I had “a few” things to learn—have to be kind to young dumb Caroline, after all. Can’t hold too many things against her, now that she’s old and decrepit. I mean, it took her long time to learn to pray and recognize the voice of the Holy Spirit and discover that spiritual accountability she had to her husband and that money wasn’t security but security was spiritual intimacy with God.

How did we get here? Was it something about John Stamos? Was it Sunday mornings at home, because we have church on Saturday evening? Was it remembering those days in sunny Southern California that led us to a crooked little house in Massachusetts? Was it thoughts of cups of coffee with my husband and maybe a fritter from down the street? Ah…that makes me remember Winchell’s.

Have nice day, everyone.
❤

P.S. Didn’t edit this. Refused. “Let the mistakes prove it’s real, ” she said with a wry smile.

Blogtober Day 19

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TODAY’S THEME: Faith

PARTICIPLATING BLOGS:
If I missed you, or you want to join now, please let me know!

Happy Blogtober! ❤

It’s Not About Abortion

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It’s not about pedophiles.

It’s not about human trafficking.

It’s not about borders.

It’s not about the evil virus.

It’s not about the Supreme Court.

It’s not about healthcare.

It’s not about climate change.

It’s not about school choice.

It’s not about globalism.

It’s not about the deep state.

It’s not about the swamp.

It’s not about Russia, China, or Ukraine.

It’s not about Obamas, Clintons, or Bidens.

It’s not even about the economy.

In the end, this election is about one thing, and one thing only: Israel. While all these issues matter—and more besides—there is only one issue that comes with a promise from God to either bless or curse our nation. That “issue” is Israel. Our country’s support for Israel has distinguished our young nation from every other nation on the earth.

“I will bless those who bless you, and I will curse him who curses you; And in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” Genesis 12:3 (NKJV)

“Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: they shall prosper that love thee.” Psalm 122:6 (NKJV)

“And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’” Matthew 25:40 (NKJV)

Only one candidate will continue to make the peace of Jerusalem a priority. Only one candidate loves the Jewish nation. Only one candidate is called by Jews “the best friend Israel has ever had.” That man will get my vote, because as much as it all matters, Israel is what it’s really all about for me. ❤️

P.S. Here is a very engaging and relevant teaching from Amir Tsarfati.

I Think This Is How We Fix 2020

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An Important Message for My Christian Friends

When President Trump presented his Deal of the Century, his peace plan for the Middle East, I consulted with the two Bible prophecy teachers I follow. The Israeli said the plan was great, and did not divide Israel. The Arab said it did.

As this was January 28th, my focus was already on the “Wuhan flu,” as it was then called. I decided the Israeli teacher had to know better—he lives there, after all—and just continued to prepare for what this virus might bring our way—it seemed more urgent.

Well, in recent weeks I have been talking to God about what I see happening in our country. I don’t understand why things were going so badly; why evil seems to be winning. Our nation is being destroyed right before eyes! It doesn’t make sense. “Our nation is not blessed! What is going on, Lord? You said You will bless the nation that blesses Israel. Our President has been called Israel’s greatest friend! We were enjoying your blessings before, so what changed? Where is Your favor on our President? This doesn’t make sense.”

“Our nation is not blessed! What is going on, Lord?”

I know these are the End Times, and I know there are going to be troubles, but it felt like something more was happening. Not only was I seeing our nation destroying itself from within, more divided than I could ever imagine, I was also not seeing God’s favor on this administration. Throughout Donald Trump’s presidency, his support for Israel has been incredibly significant. God says He will bless the nation that blesses Israel, and we have reaped the reward of President Trump blessing Israel. In fact, there is nothing more President Trump can do for Israel. He has done everything that needed doing. Yet, that favor seems to be gone, and as hard as it is to believe, our nation is on the verge of embracing Marxism. Violent riots are taking place in every state in our nation. Small businesses that were thriving six months ago are gone. An economy that was breaking records almost every week is now struggling to survive. What the virus started, the riots finished. Speaking of the virus, just as we were reopening our country, we are seeing more cases than ever.

I began to pray for wisdom. I wanted to understand what was going on, so that I could pray more effectively for our nation—I would know what the need really was, and how to intercede.

Well, as I began seeking God, The Holy Spirit almost immediately reminded me of the peace plan I had ignored in January—and the question of Israel being divided. “Doug, I think the peace plan may divide Israel,” I told him. “I need to do some research.”

The first thing I did was go back and listen to J.D. Farag’s message from February 2, concerning the Deal of the Century. He is the Arab, and he expressed his concern and conclusion, after studying the plan. He was only one voice, though.

So, I did more research. I found Israeli newspaper articles about Israeli politicians who were decrying the plan for the same reason. Other biblical prophecy websites added their opposition. There were, in fact, many voices saying the same thing: Trump’s Peace Plan Divides Israel.

One of most significant things I learned, though, is that though there have been many peace plans over the years, President Trump’s plan is the first to have a map!

During our nightly Praise and Prayer services last night, I was praying about this concern. There were two specific things I prayed:

  • First, I prayed that the part of the plan that divides Israel would be revoked. Is that even possible? I don’t know! I do know, though, that nothing is impossible for God, and ye have not, because ye ask not. So, I asked! I told the Lord that I didn’t want our nation to be responsible for dividing His land.
  • The second thing I asked God to do was to send someone of influence, someone who has the President’s ear, to counsel him against this part of the plan. I know they are a godly men and women with whom he consults, so I prayed that one of them recognize the error in this plan and have the courage to tell the President it must be stopped. I prayed that the President would humble himself and receive this counsel.

GOD ALWAYS CONFIRMS HIS WORD!

After our service ended, I watched Jan Markell’s weekly Bible prophecy broadcast. She was interviewing Michelle Bachmann, whom you may recall served in Congress for eight years from the state of Minnesota. As Jan is based in the Twin Cities, I looked forward to hearing an update on how things are going since the murder of George Floyd. However, at the very end of their conversation they began to discuss Trump’s Middle East Deal of the Century. I couldn’t believe my ears! “Doug! She’s talking about it! She’s talking about it! Did you hear what she said?!” I replayed those last few minutes several times.

Since leaving public office, Michelle Bachmann has been busy about God’s business, serving in some very interesting and unique ways. One thing she has been doing is serving as the President’s Evangelicals Advisory Board. She has been in meetings at the White House these past three years, and was present on January 28, when the peace plan was revealed. In other words, she knows and is known by the President: she has his ear!

In those last few minutes, Michelle Bachmann presented a clear and succinct explanation of the history of this land, God’s promised land to Israel, and a biblical case for it to not be divided. She reminded us of The San Remo Agreement, signed 100 years ago, which restored Israel to the biblical boundaries God first drew. She points out that this agreement is still international law! She acknowledged that the blessing of God on our nation has been lifted, and points to the redrawn maps of Israel that cede parts of Jerusalem to form a Palestinian capital. She is praying for these maps to be withdrawn!

Considering how quickly God has answered and confirmed my prayer request, I believe it is very important for the Body of Christ to quickly respond. We need to pray. We need to beg God’s mercy. We need to pray Trump will listen and receive this godly counsel from Michelle Bachmann. She truly is a modern-day Esther, called for such a time as this. ❤️🕊🙏🏼

P.S. This is the video of Michelle Bachmann on Jan Markell’s show. They begin discussing the peace plan at approximately 43:00.

SPECIAL REQUEST: I think I have only asked people to share one other post, my ovarian cancer awareness post. However, I would like to ask you to share this post, too. I am so convinced that we must pray for the dividing of Israel to be stopped, that I urge you to share this with everyone you know. Please, the Body of Christ must pray for the President to recognize the error of dividing God’s land, and for him to withdraw this plan.

The Saxophone Player: “What A Friend We Have In Jesus”

/ SaxophoneWife / 1 Comment

www.youtube.com/watch

One of the churches that supports us as missionaries asked The Saxophone Player, my husband, to record a ministry update and saxophone solo. I thought you might like to hear his solo.

God bless you today!❤️

The Book with a Blessing

/ SaxophoneWife

This is not a sermon, and not really a teaching. It’s almost a book review, a chapter-by-chapter survey. I thought it was great. Plus, it’s a book that comes with a blessing!

“Blessed is he who reads and those who hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written in it; for the time is near.” Revelation 1:3 (NKJV)

“Revelation,” from Amir Tsarfati of Behold Israel.

No reason to be intimidated by this book! ❤️