DON'T GET STUCK IN YOUR TRANSITION

Wednesday, 28 July 2010 09:13 AM EDT J. Lee Grady Newsletters - Fire In My Bones

When moving from point A to point B, we sometimes feel trapped in between. Trust God to guide you to your destination.

A few months ago I passed through the tiny community of Between, Ga. With a population of only 148, the place is not much to write home about. (And besides, it doesn't even have its own zip code). The town got its name because it's halfway between Atlanta and Athens, Ga. But as I passed the local convenience store I couldn't help but imagine the strange reactions I'd get if I lived there.

"Where are you from?"

"I live in Between."

"In between what?”

"In Between, Georgia."

"In between Georgia and what?"

"Oh never mind."

I doubt I'll ever move to that town, but the truth is that many of us are living "in between"—because we are in the midst of a major transition. Some of us know where we're going but we feel we're stuck halfway. Or we may sense God is moving us into a new spiritual assignment, yet the process of getting there is inching forward about as fast as a Siberian glacier.

I'm in the midst of my own big changes in career and ministry, and I've been struggling with all the emotions that accompany a major transition. I've battled doubts ("Did God really promise this?"), fears ("What if He doesn't provide?"), confusion ("Last week I was sure; this week I'm not so sure") and impatience ("OK, Lord, I need some answers NOW!").

“God gives us prophetic promises to literally pull us into our future. Declare them over your life, even when the darkness of discouragement is smothering you.”

But as I navigate this journey, I'm discovering there are some things we can do to make the transition smoother.

Make sure you let go of the past. Sometimes we get stuck in spiritual limbo because we're holding on to memories, relationships or what is secure and comfortable. The unbelieving children of Israel wandered in the wilderness of Sinai for 40 years—and never completed their transition—because they were so homesick for Egypt. When Naomi felt called to return to Bethlehem, her daughter-in-law Orpah refused to go. She preferred what was culturally familiar. Leave nostalgia behind and embrace the new season.

Renounce your doubts. If we're not careful we can fall into the trap of double-mindedness. We say we want to go to our promised land, but we hesitate—and all such foot—dragging is doubt. We say we want to go forward, but we are like a moving car that has its parking brake engaged. Faith requires you to release the brake.

James warns the double-minded person: "For that man ought not to expect that he will receive anything from the Lord" (James 1:7, NASB). Doubt will stop you from shifting forward.

Welcome those God sends to help you. We're not supposed to make transitions on our own. God uses people to push us to the next level. The body of Christ has many members, and those who are gifted as prophets, intercessors, wise counselors and encouragers will always show up when you are in strategic moments of transition.

When Moses was weary of the battle and could barely find the strength to pray, God sent Aaron and Hur to lift up his arms (see Ex. 17:12). When Hezekiah was overwhelmed by the threat of Sennacherib's armies, Isaiah brought a word from the Lord that ignited faith for a miraculous victory (see 2 Kings 19). When Mary was perplexed by the daunting task of carrying the Messiah in her womb, Elizabeth released a prophetic blessing over her (see Luke 1:41-45).

Intercessors who are empowered by the Holy Spirit are like spiritual midwives who help us birth God's promise when we don't have the strength to deliver. Spiritual transition is a painful process, but certain people have an unusual grace from God to travail with us. Allow them to pray for you and speak into your situation. 

Contend with your promise. Transition is a vulnerable time—and it requires spiritual warfare. The enemy is a thief and he wants to rob us of our inheritance. He does not want us to move forward in God, take new territory, assume new authority or advance into our spiritual callings. Satan is also an abortionist—he wants to devour your promise before it is born.

This is why we must wield God's promise as a weapon against our enemy. Paul wrote: "This command I entrust to you, Timothy, my son, in accordance with the prophecies previously made concerning you, that by them you fight the good fight" (1 Tim. 1:18). God gives us prophetic promises to literally pull us into our future. Declare them over your life, even when the darkness of discouragement is smothering you. God's Word will break satanic resistance.

Stay close to the Shepherd. Over the past month four people have given me the same promise from Psalm 32:8: "I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you should go; I will counsel you with My eye upon you." It's comforting to know that the good Shepherd takes such special, up-close-and—personal care of us—especially during vulnerable times of transition when we don't know which way to turn.

Be assured that He knows your destination-and He is committed to guiding you, even if you have to walk through the valley of the shadow of death to get there. He will not leave you in the land of Between. With His rod and staff He will usher you into your promised territory.

J. Lee Grady is contributing editor of Charisma. 

I'M GOING TO FIND THE SEA: A Sea Lion's Story

Once upon a time there lived a sea lion who had lost the sea.

He lived in a country known as the Barren Lands. High on a plateau, far from any coast, it was a place so dry and dusty that it could only be called a desert. A kind of coarse grass grew in patches here and there, and a few trees were scattered across the horizon. But mostly, it was dust. And sometimes wind, which together made one very thirsty. Of course, it must seem strange to you that such a beautiful creature should wind up in a desert al all. He was, mind you, a sea lion. But things like this do happen.

How the sea lion came to the Barren Lands, no one could remember. It all seemed so very long ago. So long, in fact, it appeared as though he had always been there. Not that he belonged in such an arid place. How could that be? He was, after all, a sea lion. But as you know, once you have lived so long in a certain spot, no matter how odd, you come to think of it as home.

There was a time many years back, when the sea lion knew he was lost. In those days, he would stop every traveler he met to see if he might help him find his way back to the sea.

But no one seemed to know the way.

On he searched, by never finding. After years without success, the sea lion took refuge beneath a solitary tree beside a very small water hole. The tree provided refuge from the burning rays of the sun, which was very fierce in that place. And the water hole, though small and muddy, was wet, in its own way. Here he settled down and got on as best he could.

Had you journeyed in those days through the Barren Lands, you might have seen the sea lion for yourself. Quite often in the evening, he would go and sit upon his favorite rock, a very large boulder, which lifted him off the burning sand and allowed him a view of the entire country.

There he would remain for hours into the night, silhouetted against the sky. And on the best nights, when the wind shifted to the east, a faint small of salt air would come to him on the breeze. Then he would close his eyes and imagine himself once more at the sea. When he lay himself down to sleep, he would dream of a vast, deep ocean. Twisting and turning, diving and twirling, he would swim and swim and swim. When he woke, he thought he heard the sound of breakers.

The sea was calling him.

The sea lion loved his rock, and he even loved waiting night after night for the sea breeze that might come. Especially he loved the dreams those memories would stir. Bur as you well know, even the best of dreams cannot go on, and in the morning when the sea lion woke, he was still in the Barren Lands. Sometimes he would close his eyes and try to fall back asleep. It never seemed to work, for the sun was always very bright.

Eventually, it became too much for him to bear. He began to visit his rock only on occasion. “I have too much to do,” he told himself. “I cannot waste my time just idling about.” He really did not have so much to do. The truth of it was, waking so far from home was such a disappointment, he did not want to have those wonderful dreams anymore. The day finally came when he stopped going to his rock altogether, and he no longer lifted his nose to the wind when the sea breezes blew.

The sea lion was not entirely alone in those parts. For it was there he met the tortoise. Now this tortoise was an ancient creature, so weathered by his life in the Barren Lands that at first, the sea lion mistook him for a rock. He told the tortoise of his plight, hoping that the wise one might be able to help him. “Perhaps,” the tortoise mused, “This is the sea.” His eyes appeared to be shut against the bright sun, but he was watching the sea lion very closely. The sea lion swept his flippers once against his side, gliding to the end of the water hole and back. “I don’t know,” he said. “It isn’t very deep.” “Isn’t it?” “Somehow, I thought the sea would be broader, deeper. At least, I hoped so.”

“You must learn to be happy here,” the tortoise told him one day. “For it is unlikely you shall ever find this sea of yours.” Deep in his old and shriveled heart, the tortoise envied the sea lion and his sea. “But I belong to the sea. We are made for each other.” “Perhaps. But you have been gone so long now, the sea has probably forgotten you.” This thought had never occurred to the sea lion. But it was true; he had been gone for a long, long time. “If this is not my home. How can I ever feel at home here?” the sea lion asked. “You will, in time.” The tortoise appeared to be squinting, his eyes a thin slit. “I have seen the sea, and it is no better than what you have found here.” “You have seen the sea?” “Yes. Come closer.” Whispered the tortoise, “and I will tell you a secret. I am not a tortoise. I am a sea turtle. But I left the sea of my own accord, many years ago, in search of better things. If you stay with me, I will tell you stories of my adventures.”

The stories of the ancient tortoise were enchanting and soon cast their spell upon the sea lion. As weeks passed into months, his memory of the sea faded. “The desert,” whispered the tortoise, “is all that is, or was, or ever will be.” When the sun grew fierce and burned his skin, the sea lion would hide in the shade of the tree, listening to the tales woven by the tortoise. When the dry winds cracked his flippers and filled his eyes with dust, the sea lion would retreat to the water hole. And so the sea lion remained, living his days between water hole and tree. The sea no longer filled his dreams.

It was in May that the winds began to blow. The sea lion had grown used to the wind, and at first he did not pay much heed at all. Years of desert life had taught him to turn his back in the direction from which the wind came and cover his eyes with his flippers, so that the dust would not get in. Eventually the winds would always pass.

But not this time. Day and night it came, howling across the Barren Lands. There was nothing to stop its fury, nothing to even slow it down. For forty days and forty nights the wind blew. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun it stopped. The sea lion lifted himself to have a look around. He could hardly believe his eyes.

Every single leaf had been stripped from his tree. The branches that remained, with only a twig or two upon them, looked like an old scarecrow. And I do not need to tell you that there was no longer any shade in which to hide. But worse than this, much worse indeed, was what the sea lion saw next. The water hole was completely dry.

Three weeks after the wind ceased to blow, the sea lion had a dream. Now as I told you before, there were other nights in which he had dreamed of the sea. But those were long ago and nearly forgotten. Even still, the ocean that filled his dreams this night was so beautiful and clear, so vast and deep, it was as if he were seeing it for the very first time. The sunlight glittered on its surface, and as he dived, the waters all around him shone like an emerald. If he swam quire deep, it turned to jade, cool and dark and mysterious. But he was never frightened, not at all. For I must tell you that in all his dreams of the sea, he had never before found himself in the company of other sea lions. This night there were many, round about him, diving and turning, spinning and twirling. They were playing.

Oh, how he hated to wake from that wonderful dream. The tears running down his face were the first wet things he had felt in three weeks. But he did not pause even to wipe them away, he did not pause, in fact, for anything at all. He set his face to the east, and he began to walk as best a sea lion can.

“Where are you going?” asked the tortoise.

“I am going to find the sea.

By John Eldredge ~ Journey of Desire

The Call to Jury Duty Is Like Life...

You get home after a long hard day at work... you're flipping through your mail. Bills, bills, a couple catalogs, more bills and then your heart stops, you feel faint... in your hand is the catastrophic... JURY DUTY SUMMONS!

HOW DO I GET OUT OF THIS!!  Immediately you start planning your excuse...

Sure, you can postpone it once or twice. You might even come up with a really good excuse - but the courts are cracking down these days, you're required to provide documented proof of that excuse... 9 times out of 10 the Judge won't hear it.

The gavel has pounded the bench with a thundering WHACK!  You cannot avoid it.  The hard cold reality is... YOU JUST HAVE TO DO IT!

First panic sets in: WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? What if you're picked for a trial that last weeks? How can you miss work? There's absolutely NO ONE who can do what you do... No one can BE you.

Next comes irritation: There are so many logistics to work out! Getting a temp to fill in for you; typing all the details of what to do and how you do it... You think of every possible scenario of what could happen and write out what to do. You've got to talk your boss(s) off the ledge; explain it's our duty as citizens to serve when called - No... you're not abandoning them (really) and there will be temp... "It'll be OK." You've got to prep all the other assistants to help so the bases are covered. And if that's not enough, you think, "Do I stop in the office before and after just to be sure all is being handled?"

The big day finally arrives! You show up to the jury room with your bottled water, a packed lunch, plenty of reading materials, a folder with all pertinent work info in case the temp calls and your blackberry. Then you sit around - hour after hour nervously wondering if you'll get "called." As you sit, your mind churns with all the things you forgot to tell the temp and you hope your boss has not tortured him/her so much they've quit. You may even have to go through this pain a few days in a row.

If you actually make it into a courtroom - the routine starts all over... Anxiously wondering, again, if you'll get "chosen" thinking of all the reasons you could give to disqualify yourself...

The next thing you know it's over. You're done. "Are you sure? Am I really released... for good??" you say doubtfully. YAHOO!! WHOOPIE! You strut down the corridor belting out the Hallelujah Chorus!!

This was my existence the past several weeks when I got my summons for Grand Jury service - which in LA County would require me to be "on-call" for 30-days. My boss had just arrived in South Africa to begin production on our latest movie. Panic, turmoil, worry and loss of sleep have been my existence. But as I was leaving the courthouse, overjoyed that I'd escaped for another whole year... I realized all the emotions and stress of preparing for Jury Duty was very similar to the emotions and stress of life.

Because of how I'm wired, I can obsess about possible upcoming situations in my life ad nauseam! Like prepping for a temp - I will run through every possible scenario of "what if" I can think of, over and over. Then I'll take those scenarios and come up with 5 more for each one... I will stress, worry, fret, and lose sleep... I will beg and plead with God for answers, for direction.

The hard cold reality is... Life Happens! When the situation finally arrives - it's nothing! It's a breeze... everything worked out exactly the way I had hoped. What I thought would be the ideal results, are exactly what transpired. Or, even better - the situation I THOUGHT would come never did!

I put myself through...well... hell, basically... for nothing!  When will I ever learn?!?!

Sure - you may actually get picked to serve on a jury... I did a couple years ago and the trial lasted 33 days!! It was inconvenient... but I adjusted. The temp was fine and did a decent job. My bosses were OK. Life went on. And in the end, I actually enjoyed it - found it really interesting to see how the system works. I was happy I got the opportunity. Imagine that. My feathers were ruffled... My "agenda" altered... but the world didn't end.

Sometimes the absolute worst WILL happen... and... you do survive - changed maybe - but still standing... and when you look back, you find it wasn't actaully that bad.

...oh, and... God is with you... strengthening, encouraging and guiding... every step of the way!