I have been thinking alot about persecution lately. About what it means when you arrive at a place in life where it seems no one can see you, or all the effort you put forth to try be okay in their eyes. And while the initial blow - of rejection, being overlooked, or worse yet, being persecuted for not being good enough - is hard to deal with, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. 'Weeping may endureth for a night, but joy cometh in the morning'. In this case, it was hard for me - spiritually and emotionally - to deal with rejection, and disharmony, and not being able to make anyone happy, and inturn finding myself even more unhappy. But in the 'morning' when the light of revelation and truth comes, there is joy, because God began to give me understanding and assigned purpose to my situation...

Why Me?

My first reaction to things going wrong, and me being unable to deal with disapproval/rejection from others - was to ask God, 'why is all of this happening to me?' I will freely admit that I am a spoiled brat when it comes to God. In many situations in my life, He has favored me, and I got used to Him still blessing me, even while I behave (spiritually and emotionally) like a child throwing tantrums, and still expecting a reward. But as my rewards begin to diminish, and all I am left with is the shame of my own bad behavior, and the looks of disdain and disapproval from those around me, I found myself in a very lonely place. And as much as I tried to articulate where I was to others, it seemed the more I tried to explain, the more I frustrated myself and others - because neither party could understand exactly what was happening... Now I know, that it was God's design to get me to this very place. A place where I could no longer obtain approval from others to make myself feel worthy, and I could not explain to others how to make things better. My only option was to talk to God. It was only until I was forced to truly pray and cry out to Him, that I started to find solace. At last, I had someone who fully understood, where I was, where I am, what I meant, what I didn't mean, what was misunderstood, what was unintentional, that I was sorry, that I was wrong, that Im not a bad person, that I'm not a waste of time, etc etc etc. As I prayed, I found a sense of peace, knowing that God knows every inch of my heart - the pure parts, and the parts that are deceiving. Yet, I still didn't want to bear the pain that I was bearing. And I felt I had done enough to create such a mess - I definitely could not face the consequences of my actions. So, I found myself asking to be deemed exempt from my pain, to be exempt from the consequences of the actions that had won me the disapproval of others in the first place.

But a revelation that was shared recently in church by Minister Lloyd Brooks really touched my heart, and put things into perspective for me. He basically said: 'If Jesus was hurt, scarred, wronged, and rejected, why do we feel that we are exempt?' This really got me thinking about where I was in my walk. And the more I thought about the purpose of Jesus' persecution, the more I realized the importance of mine.

The Beauty Behind Persecution

This morning, God showed me something new about persecution: To be in a place of persecution - where people are talking about you, attacking your character, calling you crazy, overlooking you, and otherwise, discounting your importance - is actually a beautiful place to be. God began to show me an image of Jesus bearing the cross on the way to Calvary. Jesus was persecuted, falsely accused, beaten down, spit on, chastised, counted as nothing. That was a long walk of shame. I imagine Jesus looking up, with the weight of the cross on his back, and being exhausted to see that there was still a long path ahead of Him. But yet, He still decided to keep going, even while people are hitting Him, spitting on Him, and verbally debasing Him. He was alone. Even though there were so many people around Him, He didn't have anyone to reach out to for help. He could only look to God for the strength to withstand it. He could only look to God for love and approval. He could only look to God for the purpose of His persecution. This is a beautiful place to be. Because while the pain and shame of man is so tangible and evident all around you, you begin to find yourself in a place where he true nature of man's approval and acceptance becomes clear. It's true nature is unimportant. Jesus could have easily dropped His cross to run to family or friends or disciples to try to help Him. But He knew - through the pain, and the lashings, and the abuse of others - came His true purpose. And the weight that He was carrying was not just the weight of long-suffering, but of obedience. In the midst of his Jesus' last days, He was found at a place in His relationship with God, that no one could get in between them. Jesus didn't care about what people thought about Him. He was feeling pain and fear, but he took those things to God, not to man. And even in the midst of Him being honest about where He was, He still, in the end, left the final decision up to God. I see the silhouette of Jesus kneeling in the dark, praying fervently to God, 'Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me, yet not my will, but yours be done.

This scene is the beautiful place behind persecution. The place where (1) you are devoid of the burden of man's opinions and judgements, (2) you can be totally and brutally honest with God about where you are, and what you are afraid, (3) you are allowed to ask to be exempted, but (4) you are aware enough to know that God's will assigns a purpose to your trial and His will is final, even if it means that your request to be exempted will not be granted. 

The Recipient, and Beneficiaries

Once the purpose of persecution becomes clear, and you recognize the beauty in being hidden in persecution, you then are left to wonder about the people who are administering the pain, rejection, abuse, condemnation, judgement, or disapproval. What do we do with them? Here is what God showed me: What the people who were persecuting Jesus were not aware of, was that their very attitudes and actions were actually propelling Jesus to the place where He would finally become exalted. If they never did what they did, Jesus would not have been put in place as the lamb that would eventually save the ENTIRE world. Jesus was deeply hurt, had to go through continual, excruciating pain, bearing trial after trial. But as He drew nearer and nearer to God, bore the cross of obedience, and realized the purpose of His pain, and saw it through to the end, He actualized who He was meant to be. 

It is the same for us. The people who are persecuting us now are actually helping us to build up who we will later become. But one thing is key. We have to get past what they are doing to us now. The second part of Minister Brooks' revelation is: 'If Jesus was hurt, scarred, wronged, and rejected, and HE STILL FORGAVE AND LET IT GO, why do we feel that we are exempt?' If we take a step back, we can shift our perspective to realize that (1) we will be rejected just as Jesus was, but (2) we are required to forgive and move on to our purpose just as Jesus did.  We have to forgive and let go. "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do." Sometimes people hurt you [even unknowingly] but you still have to forgive, forget, and move on with your life, to be who God needs you to be... If Jesus decided to hold onto his hurts, he would've never moved on to become the sacrifice that saved us. If we never move past our hurts, we may never become who we need to, to help someone else who is waiting on us.

I find it easy to look at it in terms of banking (of course). The people who hurt and reject you are depositors. They are constantly adding to your account. At the time, it may feel like all they are doing is withdrawing and depleting what reserves you have, but if you invest what they give in the right place, you can turn that deposit around to become more than what they anticipated it to be. This involves you investing the right way, by taking what they give you to God, and asking Him, 'how do I make sense of this and turn it around for good?' God will then show you - there is a purpose for this trial, there is meaning in this situation. And then that attack becomes a blessing, becomes part of your foundation, part of your strength, part of your purpose. So the $5 they gave you in strife, just turned into $50 in revelation and strength. The $10 they gave you in rejection, turned into $100 in closeness with God, and learning to vie for HIS approval. The $100 they gave you in persecuted you and blaspheming you, gives you $1000 when God comes to clear your name and vindicate you in the end. The attacks on your character, when taken to God, build your character. And you begin to change from the victim to the victor. From the overlooked to the overcomer. Once you begin to GO to God to get His perspective, you really do become the recipient of a beautiful thing - YOU. You become whole. And you find your purpose. And then you can focus on your beneficiaries... all those people whose lives will be changed by your obedience. By your resilience. 

By your simply being hidden behind the beauty of persecution. Until God brings you out, brand new.

Loneliness

I can stand the stench of loneliness

The longer I sit in silence, and it lingers

The more agitated become my fingers 

And my mind and my feet just have to move. 

I have to constantly keep myself busy,

preoccupations require always having someone with me

To share in the next adventure designed to distract.

And as long my world keeps spinning,

I can hold tight to the the illusion that I'm winning

Over the distant truth - though faint - remains a fact:

I am lonely. 

Lust

I think I feel a bit of lust on my tongue

And its about time for me to cleanse my palette

As tempting as if what I would've tasted, 

It would serve me well to actually have it

So I get up from this table to walk away

But my stride is still resilient with a brilliant sache 

Telling of my lingering appetite

Though outward I seem a victor, there still lies an inward fight

Not just not to do, but not to want it

Not to not have, but not flaunt it (body)

I've too much on my mind.

Yet still seeking to find,

yet another,

thought to be the mother,

of all the unruly children in my head.

If her, I can find, I can recover this mind,

and put all these little children to bed.

I've too much on my mind

Too much to mind

Too much to unwind

Too much to find

My peace.

I've too much to hold

And yet too much to let go

I've not the strength to open my hands

To release. 

I've too much in my heart

And no place to start

To make this heart a home. 

'Cause when I look inside

Too much of it is broken

All I see is hatred and hurt

Sometimes, the only way I know to escape

Is to give in, and be unaware

To go to sleep.

I am sometimes, too much and others, not enough

Wanting to put an end to this lust

I have for peace.

But as I seek it, I know that I am rushing to the end when I've not fully digested the need to digest this. (invest) I know that this pain that I feel, the confusion, and the anxiety, and the weariness of wanting to know and never knowing, wanting to love, but not being lovable, wanting to be beautiful, and even when I am, feeling not beautiful enough. 

But to seek good with wrong intention

Is like pursuing the great invention

Devoid of the life that provided the end with its means.

What good is it

To find peace under the weight of it

Without knowing the process of finding peace

beneath the weight.

We must all be eroded at one time or another

By a joy, or a trial, or a pain, or a lover

Something to bring what is inside out

Something to paint the inner voice with a mouth

That can speak of its past, but speak where you're going

Speak to the secrets, now desperately showing

That cant re-hidden, cant be erased

But only uncovered to let healing take place.