The Chaplain’s Corner

June 27, 2001

 

"Salvation is free, ... but discipleship will cost you your life."
-- Dietrich Bonhoeffer

 

HOW HEAVY IS YOUR HEART?

Is there a doctor in the house? He'd tell us exactly how heavy our hearts are--or would he? For I'm not talking about the weight of the heart inside your body; I'm talking about the weight of the burden inside your heart--and there's a big difference!

The Bible uses the word "heart" as an all-inclusive way of referring to our spirit, mind and soul--the seat of our emotions, our thoughts and desires, and our will. Sometimes it's light as a feather, as we tiptoe through life with joyful spirits, creative minds and uplifted spirits--those are the good days!

 

But hang on, for as sure as that heart muscle beats within your body, the burdens are sure to come. Responsibilities of family, work, church, home, school, all weigh us down and it can get pretty heavy! Sometimes it overwhelms us--we've all been there. It's heavy--but it's NOT a heavy heart! So what IS it??

 

A heavy heart happens when the responsibilities and concerns of life move down into your spirit--when anger, depression, false guilt or fear overwhelm us, weighing us down in discouragement, defeat and despair. Ever been there? Someone else has been there too--matter of fact, he's the cause of it all! The father of lies loves to load down Christians with emotional weights too heavy to carry, then delight in our dilemma. He's a heavy heart specialist...and he's good at what he does. So is there a REAL Heart Doctor in the house?

 

Yes, a thousand times, yes! He's the heavenly Heart Specialist--and He's here to help and heal your heavy heart today. He is STILL the Great Physician for the mind, the soul and the spirit, as well as the body. Come with that burdened, heavy heart, be it weighed down with anger, depression, false guilt or fear. Bring it to the Lord...and let HIM lift the load. Believe it--He will lift your heavy heart--and you will have a wonderful day!

 

Scripture: "...When my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. (Psalm 61:2)"

 

Prayer: "Lord, my heart is heavy today--with emotions for which there are no words. You see deep within me; You know what I feel and why I feel it. Thou Great Physician, lift the heavy weight within my heart this day. Replace the load with Your love, peace and joy. I trust You, Healer of my heart, In Jesus' Name, Amen."

 

 

 

"Voice Mail From Heaven"
by Susan Fahncke


At twenty-eight, my younger sister's life had ended before it really began. A year ago she was diagnosed with a brain tumor and my world fell apart. The vibrant, feisty, beautiful sister who had been my best friend for a lifetime gradually became a vague shell of herself, replaced with the side affects of her disease and medications.

This past year had been like a slow nightmare from which I could not wake. My time eventually became consumed with caring for Angel, endless prayers and hours and hours of tears. Losing my sister broke my heart, but watching her suffer shattered my soul. In the months prior to her death, her body began to shut down; what was left of her abilities to function one by one becoming lost. She was paralyzed on her right side
and her face and body became tremendously swollen from the steroids necessary to control the swelling in her brain. She became weaker and weaker, until she could not even turn over in bed. However, the most painful loss for her was her ability to communicate. Her speech, at first affected by only a slight slur that sounded more like an accent, increasingly dropped off into broken sentences, the words unable to make
their way to her lips, and then to only an occasional word here and there.

Angel was devastated at not being able to form the words that her heart felt and needed to say. Always a "talker", as are all the "Farr girls", I knew how hard this was for her. I often saw tears trickle down her cheeks with the frustration of not being able to bring the words to surface.

Her loss of speech was also incredibly painful for me. I longed for our giggling sister-talks. I missed the hours and hours of babble and laughter, the bond of understanding each other as only sisters can. I missed our phone calls and the sound of her voice and her contagious, delightful laughter.  The last conversation we had was the day before
she died.  I sat by her bedside, listening to her struggle for breath and knew her time was nearing the end.  Suddenly she awoke and uttered her last word to me.

"Sooz?" she groggily said my name, stirring beneath her blankets.

I leaned over and took her hand in mine. "I'm right here." She squeezed my hand tightly and drifted off again. It was the last time I heard her voice. The next day she left for bluer skies.

The morning after she left this life for the next, I awoke with the deepest, aching pain I've ever known. With an endless supply of tears, I felt as if I had shattered from the inside out. I would have given anything for just one more moment, one more hug, one more "Love ya" from my sister. I was happy for her that she was with God now, free of pain and full of joy again, but oh, how I ached to see her again, how I longed for the sound of her voice. And then I picked up the phone to call Mom.

Hearing the stutter tone that told me I had voice mail, I dialed in to retrieve the messages. The computer-generated operator's voice telling me I'd had a saved message for one hundred days, I listened for the message, ready to delete whatever I felt necessary to save. Nothing seemed important to me anymore.

"Hi Sooz, it's me." I choked with the sobs that immediately came as I heard Angel's voice, full of life and love once again, her words clear and steady. "I know you're having Family Night, and I'm sorry to call, but I just wanted to tell you I love you and thank you for all you've done for me. Call me when you can." The tears flowed with joy and
gratitude at this incredible gift when I needed it desperately. Her phone call ended with her usual "Love ya!".

I played it over and over until I had it memorized, her sweet voice and flowing words a gift of glorious, incredible sunshine on the darkest day of my life. I said a prayer of thanks and knew that this message coming today, of all days, was not an accident.

Two days later was her viewing. A very painful day for me, I had gone to fix her nails for her one last time and place a halo of flowers on her scarred head. Arriving home, aching and sad beyond words, I picked up the phone and heard the stutter tone again. Dialing in, I plopped down at my desk and my gaze strayed to a photo of Angel, taken one month before her diagnosis. Seeing her beautiful, glowing face and sparkling eyes, I longed to see her this way just once more. I missed her incredibly. My heart skipped a beat as I again heard the operator tell me I had another saved message from one hundred days ago.

"Hey Sooz, it's me!" It was Angel again. She began to babble about everything and nothing, just like she always did. I found myself laughing for the first time in ages, as the sound of her "I forgot my point" message played on. Again I played it. And again. Over and over until I felt the sunshine in my soul again. "Love ya!" she said, and I saved it for another one hundred days, wondering on what day I would hear it again. I smiled at the thought.

And so it's been for the past three weeks. Every time I am at my lowest, every time I miss her so much it literally hurts my heart, another message saved for one hundred days is waiting for me. How it was timed so perfectly, I will never know, but I do know that her messages are a gift, and it is her way of saying that she is still there, we are sisters forever and she is wonderful again. Once an Angel, always an angel.

Susan Fahncke Copyright 2001
Editor@2theheart.com

 

 

 

Barrabbas

by James R. Voyles

 

In a cold prison cell shrouded in darkness he lay,

A well noted prisoner who had lost his way.

The crimes he had committed, posted on prison door,

Announced to the public the life that he bore.

 

He was hated by man, condemned by the law,

And judged by the courts for his crime that they saw.

Then the steps of a guard and a screech of the gate,

Roused the prisoner inside awaiting his fate.

 

As the guard enters the door and sorts through his keys,

The prisoner inside falls to his knees.

He cries out in fear, “O, God, I am lost,

Oh how great is the darkness, how great is the cost!”

 

The guard’s firm voice commands the prisoner, “Arise!”

As he staggered to his feet he knew his time had arrived.

He stumbled along through the darkness and out into the light,

As they walked through the door he was stricken with fright!

 

He had witnessed before and he never forgot it,

A man nailed to a cross and dropped in a socket.

He had suffered for months, cut off from the light,

And was having some trouble to recover his sight.

 

But as the guard coaxed the prisoner to look far away,

He discovered Mount Calvary, and all heard him say,

“I see three crosses and three men in the air,

And the one in the middle is the one I was to bear!”

 

And he fell on his face, crying, “How can it be

That a man such as this, loves a rebel like me?”

The guard answers, “Barabbas”, with tears on his face,

“You are free from your bondage, He is taking your place!”

 

So if you, like Barabbas, awaiting his plight

Are locked in a prison away from the light,

Look away to the cross, see the love on His face;

Invite Him come in, He has taken your place.

 

 

The Brink of Breakthrough

By Joyce Rodgers

 

I imagine this: You’re heading for destiny, moving with confidence in the right direction.  Suddenly, you’re distracted by something demanding your attention.  But when you stop to attend to the matter, your path is altered forever.

 

Such was the case with Paul and Silas in Acts chapter 16.  En route to a prayer meeting, they met a fortuneteller who was rebuked by Paul because of her mockery of him and Silas as men of God.  Paul commanded the evil spirit to come out of her, and the girl was set free.

 

She was a slave, however, and because her masters were no longer able to profit from her psychic powers, they had Paul and Silas thrown in jail.  The ministry duo was suddenly thrust from prayer to prison.

 

Think about that.  On your way to what God has for you there’s a detour in your well-constructed plan.  Although painful, such times are common in the life of every believer.  But what do you do when you’re passing from one season in life to another, when it’s 11:59 p.m.–almost midnight—in your life?

 

Transition occurs because God is altering His plans for us.  There is a three-step process during such times; burden, birthing and breakthrough.

 

First comes the burden.  On their way to jail, Paul and Silas were dragged into the marketplace to face the authorities.  Even the crowds participated in their humiliation.  They were beaten and stripped, and then thrown into prison.  But they were not alone.

 

Life’s transitions may leave you feeling attacked.  You may feel beaten and striped of your spiritual and personal dreams.  It may seem as though layers of divine protection have disappeared.  This stripping simply means God is taking is taking off the old and exposing you to new life and new assignments.

 

Then comes the birthing.  To be beaten means God is molding us into His image.  Jeremiah 18:6 says: “’O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter?’ says the Lord. ‘Look, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so you are in My hand, O house of Israel’” (NKJV)

 

Think of a muscle.  Have you ever had a really good workout, but next morning felt sore?  Your muscles were in a breakdown stage, which is critical.  Without it, the muscles can’t rebuild themselves.

 

It was humiliating enough for Paul and Silas to suffer, but why did the crowd have to participate?  Our transitions are often similar.  It’s not enough to suffer in silence or privacy; it seems as though God chooses those broken moments to put us on display.

 

Paul and Silas were confined to prison, but at about midnight---perhaps it was 11:59 p.m.---their confinement birthed their true assignment: prayer and praise.  In the midst of confinement, they blessed the Lord.

 

Lasting change is birthed out of pain and often filled with isolation.  But there’s no better time to feel God’s presence than during your “spiritual 11:59 p.m.”  During these times, praise God for who He is.  Recall past victories, and in spite of how you feel or what you see, praise Him for His promises.  Your worship will promote stability and assurance.

 

Then you’re ready for the breakthrough.  Paul and Silas’ prayer and praise caused tremors in the realms of darkness.  Suddenly, a violent earthquake shook the building, and the doors were opened.

 

Explosive breakthroughs will come in your life as you continue to lift up the name of Jesus.  Breakthroughs bring the favor of God on your life, which releases His plans for you.

 

Soon, your doors will swing open, chains will fall off, and those standing by will marvel at your life.  When we become a testimony of God’s faithfulness during painful transitions, not only are we blessed, but others will observe our breakthroughs and will be touched by our release.  Desperation will prompt them to ask, as the jailer did, “What must I do to be saved?”

 

The passage in Acts concludes with the jailer restoring Paul and Silas as the magistrate sent word to release them.  Likewise, God can cause the same people or situation that imprisoned you to bless you.

 

When your clock strikes 11:59 p.m., know that it’s time to rejoice.  Whether you are in a period of burden or birthing, remember that explosive breakthroughs are born around midnight.  So, let the celebration begin.

 

This article was printed in CHARISMA MAGAZINE, June 2001

 

 

COMMUNITY BIBLE STUDIES

 

TUESDAY EVENING @ 7:00 P.M.

WHERE: HELEN KERWIN’S

COUNTRY WOOD’S INN (MAIN HOUSE)

STUDY FOR JULY 3^RD  - “REMEMBER LOT’S WIFE”

 

THURSDAY MORNINGS @ 10:00 A.M.

WHERE: SPIRIT WIND CHURCH

STUDY FOR 5^TH  - “LEARNING TO PRAY”

 

TEACHER: MARY ALICE KELLY

 

FOR A RIDE OR INFORMATION, CALL SPIRIT WIND CHURCH AT 897-2075 OR MARY ALICE AT

364-2586 (THIS NUMBER IS NOT LONG DISTANCE FROM GLEN ROSE)