I pray in the bathtub. I think it is because I have no distractions. Sometimes these conversations are upbeat, but sometimes they are heart-wrenching. I had one of those Tuesday night (August 29). What started as a conversation about the side effects from chemo (e.g., neuropathy getting bad in my hands and feet; nose bleeds almost daily) and the difficulty I sometimes face living alone while going through this evolved into what was really troubling me. This is from my journal: "Last night as I was taking my bath, I began to pray. That's a usual occurrence for me in the bathtub. But this time, I broke. I cried and cried. All I could say was, 'God, I need You.' I didn't know what for. I asked for the Holy Spirit to make intercession for me because I didn't know what to say or pray for. I went to sleep before 7:30 pm because I just didn't see a reason to stay awake."
Doubt had begun to creep in. I remember asking God if I had just an intellectual understanding of Him or a real relationship with Him. I was reminded about bearing fruit, and I could think of nothing, no fruit I was bearing. I didn't know if I was a useful branch or a dried-up twig. A branch's only job is to stay closely connected to the vine so nutrients can flow through it and produce fruit. The fruit comes from the vine through the branch. Jesus is the vine who uses us, the branches, to produce fruit, but we have to remain closely connected to Him. On Tuesday night, I felt so far away. I felt useless and worthless. I was battling hopelessness. I didn't know if I were a useless branch or if I were even on the vine at all. I was at the point of questioning my very relationship with Him. That is why I cried out "God, I need You." I didn't want Him or thought it would be nice to have Him around. I needed Him.
"In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence" Hebrews 5: 7.
Jesus prayed with loud cries and tears, even more so than mine in the bathtub. He understood where I was. Because of the reverence of Jesus, my prayers were heard. His obedience to the death of the cross paid the penalty for my sin and gave me direct access to the Father. And Tuesday night, even when I felt like I was far away and questioning my relationship with Him, I was in the throne room of my Abba Father, my Papa God, and He heard my cry.
In several small ways, He answered my question about whether I had just an intellectual understanding or if I had a real relationship with Him. I saw a meme that said, "Continuous improvement is better than delayed perfection." Perfection is one of God's attributes, not man's, but it is one I think I have to be. I beat myself up over bad decisions, mistakes, imperfections. This reminded me that I am not perfect, but I am being perfected. I remembered the first time Adriana visited. As we were at the airport for her to leave, she said, "You don't have to be perfect to be loved." God reminded me that He loves me because He chooses to love me, imperfections and all. He loved me when I was a sinner and apart from Him, so surely He loves me as His child, one whom He sees as justified through the blood of Jesus Christ.
Let me introduce you to my dear friend, Evelyn Cathcart, MD. We met on the first mission trip Geyer Springs took to the Amazon River. We have a very similar calling. She is a physician and loves to minister to the people in the villages. I told her that sometimes I wish I had gone to medical school like so many had encouraged me to do. I thought I could be of more use in the villages. She told me that she had watched me work with the women and counsel individuals, and she knew I was doing exactly what God had called me to do. I appreciated that outside encouragement because it confirmed what I had thought but was doubting my efficacy. She also is in the choir at GSFBC, so she shares my love of singing and my thought that Wednesday night choir practice is her favorite praise and worship service, too. She understands what I am missing.
On the mission trip this year, Evelyn gave her testimony during the church service we attended in Beruri. In her testimony, I heard so many familiar experiences in my own life. (We need to talk about this more sometime, Evelyn.) The second picture is the one that I love the most. She was at the rail, reviewing her testimony, and praying over it. This is how my friend rolls, and I love her for that. She rolled up into my life on Friday night.
Friday, Sept 1, Evelyn invited me to dinner. She thought it was dinner, but it was a God-ordained meeting. We ate at a great Italian place in Benton (Italy in Town), and afterwards took a long walk through downtown. We talked about so many things, including having similar callings to the people of Brazil. As we were leaving, she said something that stopped me in my tracks. We were at her car. I hugged her and thanked her for the evening. She said, "You are always encouraging everyone else, so I wanted to do this for you." God spoke through her to answer my prayer and to show me the fruit that I was bearing. I will be forever grateful for that. She had no idea what I had been going through. I think I need to invite her to dinner and have a talk.
When I got home, I read through the comments to my blog posts. I realized that many of these were also fruit. I was grateful that God allowed me to see this and recognize it. He was holding the enemy's attack on me at bay.
Father God, thank you for answering my bathtub cry.
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