I'm so sorry my blog is such a complete failure lately. My summer class has taken over my life, and I hate it. In a week and one day I will be finished with class for the summer and will (hopefully) be back in the blogging world.
For now, I want to leave you with this:
Check out Kyle Macdonald, he's the guy who traded one red paperclip for a house:
www.oneredpaperclip.blogspot.com
I shared this story with my kids at church last night because it reminds me of how something so insignificant as a paperclip can become something as great as a house when the right exchange is made.
Our lives are worthless without Jesus. Exchange your life for the one he has prepared for you.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
A Lovely Summer Camp
CAMP MULBERRY ROCKS MY FACE OFF!!!!!!
Man, I'm glad I got that out there! When I was nine years old I went to Camp Mulberry for the very first time. It was everything I had ever imagined it to be and more. I fell in love (with the camp, that is). My grandparents had taken my mom and her two brothers to camp when they were teenagers and my two cousins Lexi and Rebecca had been going to camp for a few years, but I had never gone. I had only heard stories.
So the year I was nine I was so pumped to go to camp I'm surprised I didn't die of excitement! When my little feet hit Mulberry ground I said "See ya!" to my mom and dad and didn't stop going until that next Saturday came around. I was on the Bible quiz team, I sang in the choir, I even participated in all the sports.
The two greatest parts of Camp Mulberry though, are these: the people and the church services.
I'll start with the people. Until I went to Camp I had only ever been to my church and one other church for VBS. I knew that there were millions of people all over the world, but I had never met any of them outside of my hometown. So, camp was awesome for me because it was in Hot Springs, Arkansas, EIGHT HOURS AWAY from my hometown. And there were young people there from Tennessee, Kentucky, Mississippi, Indiana, Missouri, Arkansas, Ohio, Texas... everywhere! And I love making new friends. Some of my best friends today are those I have made at Camp Mulberry.
Even better than all of the great people there, though, is the experience one has with God when they go there. Rarely ever do kids come to camp unsaved and leave the same way. I mean, they just can't do it. The presence of God is so powerful at Camp Mulberry. It is life-changing. I mean, I'm just having trouble right now even coming up with words to describe the way that God moves there. Whenever I leave Camp I feel weird being in the world. It's nuts. I think Heaven is going to be a lot like Camp :)
I still go to camp, but last year was my last year as a camper. This year I'm going back as a worker! I'm doing day-camp and leading praise and worship at the kids' service... I'm so pumped!!!
Man, I'm glad I got that out there! When I was nine years old I went to Camp Mulberry for the very first time. It was everything I had ever imagined it to be and more. I fell in love (with the camp, that is). My grandparents had taken my mom and her two brothers to camp when they were teenagers and my two cousins Lexi and Rebecca had been going to camp for a few years, but I had never gone. I had only heard stories.
So the year I was nine I was so pumped to go to camp I'm surprised I didn't die of excitement! When my little feet hit Mulberry ground I said "See ya!" to my mom and dad and didn't stop going until that next Saturday came around. I was on the Bible quiz team, I sang in the choir, I even participated in all the sports.
The two greatest parts of Camp Mulberry though, are these: the people and the church services.
I'll start with the people. Until I went to Camp I had only ever been to my church and one other church for VBS. I knew that there were millions of people all over the world, but I had never met any of them outside of my hometown. So, camp was awesome for me because it was in Hot Springs, Arkansas, EIGHT HOURS AWAY from my hometown. And there were young people there from Tennessee, Kentucky, Mississippi, Indiana, Missouri, Arkansas, Ohio, Texas... everywhere! And I love making new friends. Some of my best friends today are those I have made at Camp Mulberry.
Even better than all of the great people there, though, is the experience one has with God when they go there. Rarely ever do kids come to camp unsaved and leave the same way. I mean, they just can't do it. The presence of God is so powerful at Camp Mulberry. It is life-changing. I mean, I'm just having trouble right now even coming up with words to describe the way that God moves there. Whenever I leave Camp I feel weird being in the world. It's nuts. I think Heaven is going to be a lot like Camp :)
I still go to camp, but last year was my last year as a camper. This year I'm going back as a worker! I'm doing day-camp and leading praise and worship at the kids' service... I'm so pumped!!!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
A Lovely Mission Trip
The following is an excerpt from a piece I wrote in high school about what it means to be an American. I promise it has to do with what I'm blogging about :)
Before I get very far, let me say that I have not been to Haiti. My grandfather has been doing mission work there since before I was born and he will not let me go with him because of how dangerous it is. He doesn't go with a huge group or anything like that, He goes on his own or with one other person and roughs it for a week or two. He is so intense... and I will go with him someday. :)
What I do want to say is that I have my own experience on the mission field. One of the greatest experiences of my life thus far has to be the mission trip that I, along with about 20 other young people from two churches, took in the summer of 2008.
We went to San Pedro, Coahuila, Mexico to work for a week with the Stephen and Marcela Tolman. I'm afraid I could never have enough words to describe this experience and how it impacted my life. Until that time I had viewed the "poor" parts of the world as an outsider looking in. I listened to the stories of missionaries at conferences and I watched when the commercials came on t.v. asking people to support a child. I was reared on the stories my grandfather had shared with me of his trips to Port-au-prince, but I knew nothing of what it meant to actually immerse myself into another culture and to live as they do. Also, I come from a huge farming area where Mexicans, or Hispanics in general, are viewed as... not good. I have never ever been prejudiced, but I am definitely a product of the place where I was raised. So the trip opened my eyes to the culture of the Mexican people and I came back with a whole new outlook on the life of the Mexican people and a new heart for Missions.
My granddad does missionary work in Haiti and other countries. I have been reared on my granddad’s stories of his experiences in these places. However, there is one story I have heard a million times over, and it has impacted my life tremendously. When my granddad was in Haiti many years ago, a young Haitian mother came and introduced my granddad to her child. He was a young boy, very thin and sickly, as many of the children are in Haiti. The boy stayed by my granddad all day while he did his work. At the end of the day, the boy’s mother did not come back for him. When my granddad took the boy back to his home, his mother begged my granddad to take her son home with him, to America. She knew if her son continued living under the conditions of poverty in Haiti, he was likely to contract a disease, such as AIDS or malaria. He was likely to become malnourished or hurt in the violence that goes on daily in his hometown of Port-au-Prince. She knew he might not get a proper education or have opportunities like he would in America. Stories like these, told to me by my granddad, make me realize I am so blessed to live in a country like America.
Before I get very far, let me say that I have not been to Haiti. My grandfather has been doing mission work there since before I was born and he will not let me go with him because of how dangerous it is. He doesn't go with a huge group or anything like that, He goes on his own or with one other person and roughs it for a week or two. He is so intense... and I will go with him someday. :)
What I do want to say is that I have my own experience on the mission field. One of the greatest experiences of my life thus far has to be the mission trip that I, along with about 20 other young people from two churches, took in the summer of 2008.
We went to San Pedro, Coahuila, Mexico to work for a week with the Stephen and Marcela Tolman. I'm afraid I could never have enough words to describe this experience and how it impacted my life. Until that time I had viewed the "poor" parts of the world as an outsider looking in. I listened to the stories of missionaries at conferences and I watched when the commercials came on t.v. asking people to support a child. I was reared on the stories my grandfather had shared with me of his trips to Port-au-prince, but I knew nothing of what it meant to actually immerse myself into another culture and to live as they do. Also, I come from a huge farming area where Mexicans, or Hispanics in general, are viewed as... not good. I have never ever been prejudiced, but I am definitely a product of the place where I was raised. So the trip opened my eyes to the culture of the Mexican people and I came back with a whole new outlook on the life of the Mexican people and a new heart for Missions.
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| Crossing the border |
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| Children playing the streets of Cardboard Land |
Sunday, May 15, 2011
A Lovely New Church
This past weekend I was reminded of a place very dear to my heart that I do not often think of anymore. This place is the little log cabin behind my grandparents' house, the place where we used to have church. When I was in middle school I wrote a memoir about the cabin and it made my mom cry. I tried to find it today thinking I could just use it here, but I couldn't find it as quickly as I wanted. So instead, I will write again of the log cabin church.
When I was about two years old, my grandfather felt the Lord calling him to start a home-mission church. My granddad had been given a small log cabin by a neighbor and decided this would be a good place to start his work. So, there we were, my granddad and grandmama, my two uncles, and my family (which, at the time, only consisted of my parents, my sister Rebekah, and myself). I'll be honest, since I was only two I don't remember much of the details about the early years in the cabin. When I remember the cabin, the crowd was a little larger.
Evidently, soon after my granddad started the church, souls began to be added to the kingdom, in more ways than one. Not only were we baptizing people in the river and seeing them turn to the Lord, also one of my uncles got married, and my parents had more kids. Some of my best memories as a child occurred on the front porch swing of the cabin with my sisters and two cousins, Lexi and Rebecca.
I'm not even sure where to begin when talking about this place because, as is with all places I'm sure, there isn't just one memory there, but a multitude. For instance, of course, we had church there. When I went in the cabin yesterday (which is what reminded me of all of this) it seemed much, much smaller than it did when I was a kid. Looking back, we were cramped in there! No wonder it was so hot during the summer. My dad played the guitar, my [now] youth pastor's brother played the saxophone, there was a lady who played the accordion (do people still play those?) and my mama sang. I mean she SANG. And that is where I learned to sing, and where my sisters learned to sing. And sometimes, there would be so many people there, they would have to sit outside, which was what we all did during the summer because it was so hot. We had Sunday School in my grandparents' house and Easter egg hunts in their yard.
One time, we had a summer festival. We invited the whole neighborhood and had games, prizes, skits, music, and food. One time, my mom got excited during church and started dancing and we were so close she hit me right in the nose. One time, we all memorized the 23rd Psalm and quoted it in front of the whole church (I still remember it!). One time, there was a wedding there.
Perhaps what I remember the most about that old cabin is the hand-drawn thermometer on the wall, where we kept track of how much money we had saved for the new church building. Every Sunday I would watch the number grow and I would get excited about building the new church.
Today, Sunday services are no longer held in the cabin. Instead we have traded paper fans for air conditioning, folding chairs for pews, and good acoustics for a sound system. Though all these things are great, the cabin, in my mind represents something much greater than a place where people used to gather to worship. It is the place where everything started. My life as it is was shaped by the vision that built that log cabin, so every now and then I go and stand in there and remember that God and I, and many others started our journey in that place, and I am thankful.
When I was about two years old, my grandfather felt the Lord calling him to start a home-mission church. My granddad had been given a small log cabin by a neighbor and decided this would be a good place to start his work. So, there we were, my granddad and grandmama, my two uncles, and my family (which, at the time, only consisted of my parents, my sister Rebekah, and myself). I'll be honest, since I was only two I don't remember much of the details about the early years in the cabin. When I remember the cabin, the crowd was a little larger.
Evidently, soon after my granddad started the church, souls began to be added to the kingdom, in more ways than one. Not only were we baptizing people in the river and seeing them turn to the Lord, also one of my uncles got married, and my parents had more kids. Some of my best memories as a child occurred on the front porch swing of the cabin with my sisters and two cousins, Lexi and Rebecca.
I'm not even sure where to begin when talking about this place because, as is with all places I'm sure, there isn't just one memory there, but a multitude. For instance, of course, we had church there. When I went in the cabin yesterday (which is what reminded me of all of this) it seemed much, much smaller than it did when I was a kid. Looking back, we were cramped in there! No wonder it was so hot during the summer. My dad played the guitar, my [now] youth pastor's brother played the saxophone, there was a lady who played the accordion (do people still play those?) and my mama sang. I mean she SANG. And that is where I learned to sing, and where my sisters learned to sing. And sometimes, there would be so many people there, they would have to sit outside, which was what we all did during the summer because it was so hot. We had Sunday School in my grandparents' house and Easter egg hunts in their yard.
One time, we had a summer festival. We invited the whole neighborhood and had games, prizes, skits, music, and food. One time, my mom got excited during church and started dancing and we were so close she hit me right in the nose. One time, we all memorized the 23rd Psalm and quoted it in front of the whole church (I still remember it!). One time, there was a wedding there.
Perhaps what I remember the most about that old cabin is the hand-drawn thermometer on the wall, where we kept track of how much money we had saved for the new church building. Every Sunday I would watch the number grow and I would get excited about building the new church.
Today, Sunday services are no longer held in the cabin. Instead we have traded paper fans for air conditioning, folding chairs for pews, and good acoustics for a sound system. Though all these things are great, the cabin, in my mind represents something much greater than a place where people used to gather to worship. It is the place where everything started. My life as it is was shaped by the vision that built that log cabin, so every now and then I go and stand in there and remember that God and I, and many others started our journey in that place, and I am thankful.
May 15, 2011
Two things: 1. How is it possible to get behind when I've barely even started this series and 2. I just typed the date as 2009 (then changed it, of course).
Clearly my brain is on overload, but it's okay. I'm not really sure what I'm going to write about today, so I'm just going to let it flow how it may. This past weekend has been intense. On Friday night, we went to a youth rally at the Apostolic Church of Jesus Christ and it was really fun, of course we stayed up late and made it hard on ourselves when we had to wake up at five the next morning for the church yard sale. It was supposed to rain all day, but it only rained once, for a few minutes. We were very blessed. Then on Saturday night we stayed at home (whoa!) but had some good company. And today is Sunday, we had church this morning, I'm in the midst of packing to go stay with the Hudson family for the week, and we're leading praise and worship at a church in Nashville tonight.
I don't know if you really care about all of that, but I needed to organize my thoughts before going into one of my favorite memories, I guess.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
A Lovely Post-Christmas Gift
This is my first post for the twenty til twenty series that I am doing. Hopefully, the somewhat-weird title drew you in, because the memory I want to share with you first is by far the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I'm talking about the day I was God filled me with His precious Holy Ghost.
There is a saying I have heard my whole life, that is "I cut my teeth on the pews in that church!" referring, of course, to those people who were born and bred church-going kids. If that saying describes anyone, it's me. My grandfather is a pastor of a little country church in Barren Plains, TN (that location has got to tell you something about how country it is). When I was eight years old, we built this church (which will definitely be a story that comes up later!) and soon after we built it my sister, my two cousins, and I were baptized in the name of Jesus. Well, I knew what came next. I had repented of my sins, been baptized, and according to Acts 2:38, the next step was to be filled with the Holy Ghost.
Honestly, I never remember seeking the Holy Ghost before the night I got it. I guess it's one of those things where I was a child and had the faith that since I wanted to be filled, God would fill me, and He did! It was Wednesday night Bible study after Christmas (literally, the date was December 26, 1999) and the crowd at church was slim. I don't know why, but around here, church has the least attendance around Christmas... Anyways, my granddad preached about the pool in the New Testament where, when the water was stirred, people could come and be healed. He told us that the altar was our pool of water and the water was being stirred if anyone needed anything from the Lord. I remember, as an eight-year-old little girl, knowing that if I went up there and asked God to fill me with His Spirit, He would. It was a promise I had yet to receive. So I went up to the altar and began to praise God. Within minutes I was speaking in a heavenly language. It was the greatest moment of my life. My sister and my cousin Becca were right there with me and were filled with the Holy Ghost that night too, as well as two other girls in our church.
My life has NEVER been the same since then. I don't have enough words to describe how greatly God has worked in my life since that time. Before I was filled with the Spirit, I knew the Lord and I did what was right, but when He filled me up, God became a part of me. He has never left my side since then. I love the verse in 1 John that says, "How great is the love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called the children of God! And that is what we are!" I know that is what happened to me that Wednesday night: God lavished His love on me and I was called His child.
I don't know if you, my readers, have been filled with the Holy Ghost, but if you have not I am begging you to start seeking God's face, bury yourself in His word, and most of all ASK God, in faith, to fill you up. It is the greatest thing you could ever do. In the book of Acts, Luke writes about the Spirit being poured out in the early church and in Peter's sermon, on the day of Pentecost, He says, "The promise [of the Holy Ghost] is for you and your children, and to all who are afar off, for all whom the Lord our God will call." I am writing to tell you that He has called YOU. He wants to fill you with the Spirit. It is a promise. You just have to ask.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Twenty is Close
In twenty four days I will be turning twenty years old. That's cool, right? I'm pretty excited about it and I haven't really been excited about a birthday since I turned 16, and even then I wasn't that excited. I mean, twenty years? That's two decades. I can't imagine what it feels like to turn 70 (Grandad) but I'm not worried about that right now.
The youth pastor at my home church, Josh Drumm, tells me that my twenties will be the best years of my life. My response? If the next twenty years are as good as the past twenty have been, I will be one blessed girl.
Since its finals week, I've had a lot more time to socialize than usual (oxymoron? I think so) and last night I was hanging out with several girls from Crusade for Christ, my best friends here on campus, and we were talking about the usual girl stuff, such as... how many kids we want. Ha. I don't really think about it that much, however I must admit that I know I want at least four. Why? Because that's how many kids my parents had and I loved my childhood. I mean, there were tough times, but I look back and see that God put them there and those times have brought me to today, so I count them all as good.
I'm saying all this to let you know that for the next few days (hopefully at least twenty of the twenty four) I'm gonna be reminiscing a lot. I guess it's like a new mini blog series/challenge thing. I just want to relive twenty of the greatest things God has done for me in the past twenty years (is it even possible to narrow them down to twenty?) and I want you to join me.
Monday, May 9, 2011
A Lovely Weekend
Here I am! A friend of mine told me today she was sad because I hadn't posted in a few days, and to be honest, I'm sad too! The past few days have been so crazy and I have been having blogging withdrawals. I mean, I was on a roll about a week ago.
So what has been going on... Ha. Everything.
First of all, before I lose your interest, I had a profound thought. I don't have these very often, but hey, every now and then it happens! This profound thought was about dating. Now, let me preface this a little bit. I dated the same guy through most of high school and for a little while at college, but it didn't work out. Well, whenever I was (and still am) asked about why we broke up, it was always hard for me to put it into words without being extremely long winded. However, this past weekend I had a revelation of what really went on in that situation and what probably goes on in most situations, and that is this: Every girl wants to be taken care of (true? yes) and (hopefully) every guy wants a girl that he can take care of. Whoa! So true! I mean, that is exactly what happened in my situation. And this can be really spiritual too. If the guy is called to be the spiritual leader of the household, but the girl or the wife is more spiritual, then of course things are gonna be out of whack. I don't know, maybe you already knew this, maybe I'm catching on a little late... but I thought it was good.
Anyways, this past weekend was so. much. fun. On Friday night (my first free Friday night in quite a while) I went to see my cousin Lauren's first softball game. She did great! It kind of made me miss my middle school-softball-playing days, but not really. I was actually a horrible softball player; I'm a much better do-anything-but-play-sports kind of person.
On Saturday, my sisters, my mom, my grandmother, and I went to a mother/daughter worship service and tea party. My sisters and I led praise and worship and my mom was the special speaker for the day. She did a fabulous job. She talked a lot about just being a mother and all the great memories she has, and all the wonderful times she has had with my sisters and I, but then she related it to how the church is a mother to sinners and how we ought to love those who come into the church as our own children. She was great.
On Saturday night we had a movie night at the church. We watched the new Narnia movie, which I loved. I mean, I'm just a Narnia fan. I read all the books, I watch all the movies. Maybe I'm a nerd, I'm not really bothered by it :) Then I stayed up preparing for Sunday school the next morning and talking on the phone, which was probably not the best decision... turns out I needed my beauty sleep because....
On Sunday morning we had awesome church! AND we had special visitors :) My friends Joseph and Jara and their mom, Kathy came to visit and we had just a good ol' time worshiping the Lord. Of course, Sunday was mother's day and we celebrated Mom all day and that was fun too.
And now it's Monday, May 9, 2011. Who knew it would come so soon? And it's finals week. Bluck. Actually, not bluck. Finals week isn't all that bad because there are no classes and I just have to take three tests and I get to hang out with friends and par-tay (in the most non-typical-college way) all week. So yay! It's gonna be a good week!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Not Studying...
I have been sitting in the study room for nearly two hours and I have done almost no work. I have seven book reports to write and I have written... one and a half.
Okay, so that sounds pretty ridiculous, but I'll tell ya what's going on. I'm so excited about what God is doing that I absolutely cannot do homework. I just want to talk to everyone I know about how awesome God is (I've managed to talk to three people haha). However, since everyone is going to bed, I may end up talking to some people I don't know, which would probably be even cooler.
Today a lot of great things happened:
Okay, so that sounds pretty ridiculous, but I'll tell ya what's going on. I'm so excited about what God is doing that I absolutely cannot do homework. I just want to talk to everyone I know about how awesome God is (I've managed to talk to three people haha). However, since everyone is going to bed, I may end up talking to some people I don't know, which would probably be even cooler.
Today a lot of great things happened:
- My sister found out two more of her friends at school are Spirit-Filled.
- I didn't have to go to class (Praise God)
- My granddad (who is the pastor of my church) was prophesied over that Revival is coming to our church!!!
- I had coffee with a great friend and we talked about Jesus
- A man who's really good at web stuff offered to create a website for this youth movement that is happening... whoot whoot.
- God has given me really great friends who love Jesus the way that I do (this is everyday, but I'm especially thankful today)
- Rebekah wrote a rap about Jesus. It was good. Except for the part I helped with.
- I got all my Jeremiah Yocum praise and worship music downloaded on my computer
- I got a WKU shirt on sale fr $5. Random, I know.
- I just love the Lord more today than yesterday!!!!
4D
These kids are from a group called 4D in Hopkinsville, Ky. Some of these kids come from really tough home situations, but when they come to 4D there are counselors and people to lead them and teach them about Jesus. After the kids are filled with the Holy Ghost they get to be on the dance team. This video is not that great, and definitely doesn't do them justice, but they were AWESOME!!!
God is the Healer!
Praise Report!
So, at the BG church there is a man and his wife who travel and sing together, but have decided to make FAC their home church (yay!). Anyways, a few years ago this man battled with cancer, but God healed him. Well, two weeks ago he went to the doctor and they found a spot on his liver that they thought for sure was cancer. Last night at prayer meeting he came and stood in for prayer (was I there? of course not. I had to work and missed the greatest thing ever) and today he went back to the doctor and guess what? The spot on his liver was GONE!!!!
Go Jesus, oh yeah, Go Jesus! whoo whoo!!!
Monday, May 2, 2011
All Stirred Up
I spent the better part of last night doing homework reading facebook updates about the death of Osama Bin Laden. This is one of the reasons I hate facebook: people updating their statuses and overtly sharing opinions on matters about which they have no clue. What makes me even more upset: Christians participation in such schemes.
Do I know a whole lot about Osama bin Laden? No.
Do I know what bad things he did? Some, yes.
Am I rejoicing that he is dead? No.
Please don't tell me that justice has been served or that Osama got what he deserved for destroying the lives of many Americans, cause guess what? If we all got what we deserved we would all be dead. Justice died on the cross two thousand years ago for my sins. When I deserved death, I was given a chance to live and to live more abundantly. So no, I'm not rejoicing. It saddens me that no one stepped up to the plate and showed the world what Love really is.
Do I know a whole lot about Osama bin Laden? No.
Do I know what bad things he did? Some, yes.
Am I rejoicing that he is dead? No.
Please don't tell me that justice has been served or that Osama got what he deserved for destroying the lives of many Americans, cause guess what? If we all got what we deserved we would all be dead. Justice died on the cross two thousand years ago for my sins. When I deserved death, I was given a chance to live and to live more abundantly. So no, I'm not rejoicing. It saddens me that no one stepped up to the plate and showed the world what Love really is.
Stages of Death
For the past week or so I have had a sermon that I heard at a youth function weighing heavily on my mind. The minister that night was an EMT and shared with us something that he had learned on his job: the five stages of death. These five stages deal with someone who is suicidal and tell of the warning signs, however they can also be applied to our spiritual lives. Let us look for these five signs in our lives to make sure we're not on our way to a spiritual death.
1. Isolation
You are most vulnerable when you are alone. The devil will use this to make you think that you are left out, that no one cares about you and that you are worth less than you really are. Don't isolate yourself! Get involved in a church or in a group of friends who will lift you up in the Lord.
2. Anger
This is a big one. The Bible tells us to "anger and sin not" so we know there is such a thing as righteous anger, but anger is a tool the devil can use against us without us even realizing it. It's often said that we hurt the ones we love, and that is true in this sense as well: we become angry with those we love when things in our lives aren't going the way we want them to. I mean, it's easier to put the blame off on someone else.
Spiritually speaking, the devil will cause us to take small things and blow them up into big things. Our pastors, youth pastors, and fellow Christians become the target of our anger, giving us a reason to give up on the people who, in the end, could really help us.
3. Bargaining
This is the scariest stage, in my opinion. I guess this is so because it's the one that I can see so clearly when I look at decisions I have made in the past. There comes a point in spiritual death when you start to let down on the standards you have held for so long. Soon, the morals and the values you hold become less important. Looking like Jesus takes the place on the back burner and living as the world lives starts to look more appealing. Bargaining is bad, bad business.
4. Depression
Being depressed only leads to one thought: What's the use?
5. Acceptance
Accepting defeat is never an option. When someone who is suicidal accepts defeat, they may choose to end their life. Spiritually, we don't realize what we are doing, but slowly and surely, if we take notice, we will realize that our thought processes have changed. Living a life separate from the peace of God becomes the norm. Soon we believe that this is "just how it is" and "how it's always going to be."
But Praise be to God! Because Spiritual death doesn't have to be permanent. Jesus died on the cross so that He might conquer death and the grave and give us a second chance to live and to live eternally with him. I never want to forget that. I never want to find myself even venturing into any of these stages, because even if life is hard sometimes, God is going to take care of us. He never said that he would not give us more than we could bear, He said he would not give us more than HE could bear. So cast all your cares on the Lord.
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