God's Way is Not Ours

(Artwork by Lauren Anderson)

We've all heard the saying "God works in mysterious ways", but the reality is God's ways are not our ways. Isaiah 55:8 and 9, "My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts." As a result of our thoughts not being as high as His (See, He can see the full picture. We see what is right before us.), we usually reject it when God shows up and works in His mysterious ways. Most Christians respond no different than the Pharisees responded in Jesus' day. They accused Jesus of not doing things the way they were supposed to be done---according to their interpretation of the law. They did not accept Him as the Messiah because He did not come in the manner they expected. 

There are times when God desires to move in a person's life, yet it requires an action that others often reject, saying it is not God's will for their life, so they are advised they will be stepping out of God's will if they go in the direction they are feeling led. I have personally experienced this in my own life and walk with God. Not only was I told I was out of God's will, I was told I had been tricked by the bait of Satan, and my children were told that I was choosing to walk away from God. 

(Just a little side note: The Bait of Satan is a book about a device Satan uses to snare believers, offense. Offense leads to anger and bitterness. It is a snare. It is a trap. Avoid it at all cost.)

In 2003 I found out I was pregnant with my fifth child. My husband had already made an appointment to get a vasectomy. He did not want anymore children at that point in our lives, and I knew I could not be the one to prevent another pregnancy. It wasn't in my heart to do so. When I found out I was pregnant, we were saving the money for the vasectomy. After a couple of weeks of walking around in a dazed shock, he finally accepted we were having another child. My body, however, was rejecting carrying a fifth child. I nearly lost her twice, so I spent my entire pregnancy on bed rest. He was thankful he had not already had the vasectomy, and I knew my beautiful baby girl was worth nine months in bed. Trinity Sierra was born on July 31, 2004, and he had his vasectomy within a month of her birth. No more children for us!

In 2008 we had a special speaker come to our church. At the end of service he called us all down for prayer. When he got to me he told me I would have another child. Specifically, he said, "When he comes, he will be a boy." I ran back to my seat because I had accepted I would not have anymore children. My husband had made sure we wouldn't. Because others knew we couldn't have anymore children, some suggested it would be a grandson we would raise while others suggested we may adopt a boy. That is what we all do, isn't it? When God tells us He is going to do something in our lives or in the world, we sit and try to figure it all out in our heads. I decided that if God chose for us to have a baby boy, He would supernaturally reverse my husband's vasectomy, and that was how it was going to have to be---according to me, that is! 

Again, our ways are not God's ways. The way God ended up bringing that prophetic word to pass (Yes, it did come to pass.) was rejected by some as not being God because: "God," they said, "doesn't do things that way." You see, it required my husband and I to divorce. I had been hearing my entire Christian walk that God hates divorce, and it says so in Malachi, but what no one bothered to do was read the entire passage. The men of Israel had divorced their wives without cause and married non-believers. You see, it was their actions that God hated, the putting away of their wives without cause. Does that mean that God loves divorce or simply winks at it? No, that's not what I'm saying, but He does allow divorce, and He doesn't persecute the one who is justified in their divorce. 

People still refused to believe that God was bringing His word to pass in my life through a divorce, yet we find in the book of Ezra that the men had sinned against God by marrying those God had forbidden them to marry. They repented of their sin, and it required they divorce those they were never meant to marry in the first place. It was a union not joined together by God. When Ezra stood and proclaimed their sin and repentance in verses ten and eleven of chapter ten, he told them to do what pleased God, to separate from the people of the land and to put away their wives. So, Ezra was saying that in this particular situation it pleased God for a divorce to take place. The reason I bring this up is simply because it is one of those moments where God's ways are not ours and His thoughts are above ours. We cannot make a blanket statement and say God hates ALL divorce when He clearly does not. He just doesn't always do things the way we think He should---usually because of how we were taught. The Pharisees stuck to their guns for the same reason; they were taught a particular way and refused to accept God when He showed up and did things different. 

Let me get  back to the prophetic word and how it came to pass. Colby and I were friends while I was still married to my first husband. Colby was my friend, and he was there for me through my divorce. He home schooled his little boy. He needed help with it, and I needed a little extra income (I cleaned a few houses, but with no child support, I was struggling), so he asked if I could educate his son. I was at his home on a daily basis teaching his son, so we grew even closer. My friendship with Colby became love. It happened quickly. My children already loved him, and they respected the way he had been there for me, and I fell in love with a precious little boy. One day it hit me; the words spoken to me back in 2008 came back like a flood, "When he comes he will be a boy." I had taken those words to mean the sex of the baby, but I realized Little Colby was six when he came into my life. He was a young boy. 'He will be a boy' meant he wouldn't be a baby nor would he be a teenager. HE (the gender) would be a boy...a young boy when he came into my life. I never expected God to bring that word to pass in such a way, but I'm oh, so glad that He did. He saw the whole picture. He saw what was down the road for me. 

You may wonder why I'm sharing this story. I'm not encouraging anyone to divorce by any means, but if you are divorced, I will never judge you for it. I recognize that sometimes it is God's will for a divorce to take place in order for a person to get their life together and in line with God's word. It was necessary for me. There were sins I was trapped in because of my first marriage, and I prayed daily to be set free from those shackles, and yes, in my situation it required a divorce in order for me to be free from those sins. I'm sharing this story because there are times when God shows up in an unconventional way, and when He does, I want Him to be seen. Don't be the person refusing to see His hand moving because He's not putting His hand inside the box you think He should do all things through. 

Yes, God is a God of restoration, and there are times He will restore a bad marriage and make it new, but just because God restored your marriage doesn't mean He will deal with your friend's marriage in the same manner. Every person has a will of their own. God doesn't force us to submit our will to His, so when a marriage is truly restored, both parties have repented and changed and allowed God to restore the marriage, and sometimes a person goes through the confessions, the cries, and the 'I'm sorry's' only to find that their spouse never truly repented. You see, restoration takes both parties, and because God can see the whole picture, He knows when that will never happen, so please don't stand in judgment of others simply because God did things a different way in their life than He did in yours. Sometimes God does things in an unconventional way, and remember His ways are not our ways. 

Be Blessed and Be Made Whole,

Pinky

A Female, a Girl, a Woman, and a Lady from a Different Time

     Often on this site, I share epiphanies I have throughout the day, but today I decided to share something a little different. I’m going to shine a spotlight into who I am: a female, a girl, a woman, and a lady from a different time.

     The first observation anyone would make when meeting me is that I am a female; that’s my gender. I was born with female body parts, and I have all the “wonderful” female hormones that accompany the gender. Those hormones contribute to occasional moodiness and breakdowns. Yes, I’m an emotional being. I’m extremely sensitive, and I cry when I get hurt. I’m not going to apologize for any of those things. They are a part of being a female for me, and I am proudly of the female gender.

     Secondly, I’m a girl. As a matter of fact, I’m a girlie girl. As a small child, I loved dolls and dollhouses and baby dolls. When we played house, I always wanted the role of the mommy. I wore nightgowns on my head and pretended it was my hair. I would cry and beg my mother not to cut my hair. I wanted long hair. It was what I liked, but she hated long hair, so she kept mine short most of the time. Occasionally, she would give in to my pleas and allow me to grow out my hair, and I would be so happy. Long hair made me feel feminine. I had a low self-esteem, so it was important to me that I felt like a girl because I related femininity to beauty, and every little girl wants to feel beautiful.

     I had another weapon at my disposal in the beauty arsenal; I always felt prettier in a dress. My mother would make me dresses covered in lace and frills, and I adored them! Not only did I feel beautiful when I slipped on a dress, but I felt more comfortable (more myself) when I wore a skirt or a dress than I did when I wore a pair of pants, so I was often found wearing them. In the 1960’s the feminist movement brought up many valid issues where women needed to be protected; the movement also addressed gender roles. I was born after these movements began, and yet I was born a girl from a different time period. I longed for the traditional role of a girl.

     Thirdly, I’m a woman; I was raised being taught that God gave women brains just like He gave men brains. I never doubted it either. I was fairly smart in school, but I also understood that being a woman did make me different from a man, and I was intelligent enough to deduce the differences. I don’t care to try to do everything a man can do because I acknowledge the fact that I can’t do everything a man can do. My body was not made the same as a man’s. I have limitations, but I also understand that men have their limitations as well. There are things women excel in that men can’t do. It doesn’t mean men are less than women, and it doesn’t mean women are less than men. It simply means we are different, and there is nothing wrong with being different from one another, but for some reason in today’s society many women seem to desire to be seen as equal to a man in every aspect: in pay, in respect, and in job opportunities. I’m just a woman from a different time. I believe my pay should be equal to a man’s. I believe the respect I receive should be equal to a man, but I acknowledge I cannot be seen as an equal to a man in every job opportunity. My dad was a fireman. A fireman needs to be able to carry a person down a flight of stairs to get them out of the house if it’s on fire. If I can pass all the requirements set in place for a man to become a fireman, which includes being able to carry a person down a flight of stairs, then I should be considered an equal in that job opportunity, but if I cannot pass that test, then the test should not be dumbed down for me because I’m a woman.

     A few years back a storm came through and knocked limbs out of the trees at my dad’s house. They were massive limbs—limbs as big as tree trunks. I took my teenage son with me to help my dad clean up. We got down to the biggest part of the limb. Daddy needed to lift it off the ground a little in order to cut through it. I didn’t want my dad (whose health was declining) to have to lift it, so I told him to stand back and allow me to do it. He chuckled. He didn’t chuckle out of meanness, but he knew I would not be able to lift it because a woman’s strength lies in her hips and legs. A man’s strength is in his arms and chest. I tried to lift it; it wouldn’t budge. My fifteen-year-old son stepped over (after a few laughs!) and picked it right up. You see—I’m a woman; I’m not a man. I can’t do everything a man can do, but I was never meant to. I get to do something extraordinary that a man can never do, give birth. Men and women are different, and that’s okay.

     Lastly, but most definitely not least, I’m a lady. Today’s society scoffs at a woman who presents herself as a lady to the world. You can often read thoughts through the eyes, and I’ve read the criticisms of the way I choose to dress. The gossips being spoken have gotten back to me. I’ve heard the whispers that I’m religious because of the way I dress. It’s also been said that I’m in the bondage of legalism. You may be wondering what I mean by how I choose to dress, and then you may ask yourself why I dress the way I do. To answer the first question, you will usually find me wearing a dress or a skirt. To answer the second question, do you remember what I said about feeling more comfortable in a dress when I was a little girl? That never changed. I allowed society and fashion to dictate my choice of clothing for years—most of my teenage and adult life, in fact, but within the last three years, I have been discovering a freedom I never knew I could experience, a freedom to be me!

     Society screams tolerance of those who “want to be themselves”, yet I have found judgment around almost every corner because I love wearing dresses, and I love having long hair, and I’m over forty years old. Some people even feel sorry for me because they think I’m a poor Pentecostal girl chained by religion, legalism, and my domineering husband to “having” to wear dresses and keep my hair long. Please don’t feel sorry for me. I’m not in bondage. I’m freer than I’ve ever been. Yes, I’m Pentecostal, but my relationship with Jesus is not about what I “can’t” do. I’m sure there are plenty of women who are in such a bondage, but that’s not me. My husband is not domineering in the least, and I obey what God shows “me” in the Word, not what a man or a church says I must do. I loved long hair and dresses way before I even knew what a Pentecostal was.

     I’m simply being me, and I’ve always felt more comfortable in a dress. A few years ago I broke free from feeling that I had to wear what society demanded I wear. The world seemed to be painting a particular picture for women to fill, and I did not find myself or my heart amongst the colors they were using. Society was painting a picture that destroyed what it meant to me to be feminine, so I decided to make a stand for femininity.

     I’m a female; I’m a girl; I’m a woman, and I am a lady, but I am from a different time. I will allow my husband to open the door for me. I will allow him to fight to protect me, and yes, I will allow him to pick up that heavy box so that I don’t have to do it. I will not criticize him for being a gentleman. He treats me like a lady because I am one. For me, my way of showing that is to dress in a way that expresses my femininity to the world. I don’t expect any of you to be me or to have my heart, so all I ask is the same in return. Don’t expect me to be like you.

Be Blessed and Be Made Whole,

Pinky