Storms

I've been reading some Andrew Murray (no, not the tennis player, the South African preacher) and I realised that the sermon that I had alighted upon was speaking into my life.  He was talking about Peter and his "crisis of faith" and "conviction of sin" at the moment he realised that he had denied Christ three times as predicted...

...and yet He still loved Peter.  The Peter at the gate became a different Peter at Pentecost when he gave it all over and received an infilling of the Holy Spirit.

When we finally realise we haven't given it all, that we are still fighting with our flesh not His Spirit, only then, I think, can the true healing begin.

I've had an extremely difficult week.  I did have an enjoyable bit of fellowship Saturday evening - but over the phone.  They said to me they always prefer phone calls, so that's something I've now firmly noted.  The Saturday outreach was difficult, but well received.  I know that I didn't put a lot of effort into it, and you only get out what you put in.  Even the secular world recognises that.  Or at least, the sensible and unselfish ones do.

Yes - I went to church yesterday, and I was weeping all the way through. I am having a tough time, yet I haven't really admitted it to anyone.  With all the various aches and pains I've suffered over the years, from mild to utterly excrutiating, nothing compares to a hurting heart that just wants peace and rest.  I'm not sure the church I'm going to is for me.  The gospel is excellent, but I'm missing the Pentecostal worship.

Even so, the message was clearly be still, let go, and receive...much like what I read of Murray later.

I am not going to give up, though I am sorely tempted.  He never gave up on me.  It would be unthinkable, wrong to give up on Him.  Now is the time for standing on the promise, and to weather the storm.