knowledgeofgoodandevil

Biblical truth for a modern world

The Voice of the Enemy

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bookThe other day as I was walking through a store, grocery shopping, I heard a loud voice in my ear telling me to quit this blog. It kept saying that it was useless to even start. Don’t bother, the voice was saying. Give it up already. Who do you think you are to be writing about Christian things? You’re not a theologian. You are just a woman, what can you possibly offer anyone? Just quit already. This is going to be a huge waste of time. Quit, quit, quit, the voice wouldn’t stop. I felt anxious and overwhelmed. I felt discouraged. I made a quick decision in my head that I would quit before I even started. I prayed a desperate prayer, telling God I would quit, but if You change your mind, I won’t.

It’s an interesting journey, this Christian walk. We do hear voices in our head. Not that we are crazy, on the contrary. I believe God grants much sanity as a believer in Jesus Christ. However, we do hear voices in our head. But that would be expected. When we accept Jesus Christ as Savior, the Holy Spirit moves in. He moves inside of us. And He starts talking. I love that whole imagery of the Holy Spirit talking to us. He makes suggestions. He tells us what to do. He warns us. He guides us. He pricks our conscience. The Holy Spirit is ONE of the voices we hear.

And then there are other voices. These aren’t nice voices. They’re the voice of the enemy talking. The enemy is out to destroy us, discourage us, shut us down anyway possible. As we walk the Christian walk, we come in contact with the enemy. He wants to deceive us. He wants to throw us off our game. To use a football analogy, he wants to tackle us and even hurt us so bad, we can’t play in the game anymore. Every believer has had the enemy’s voice in their head, some have listened to it, and some recognize it as the enemy talking.

How do we recognize who is doing the talking? Good question. If the enemy wants to discourage us, then when we feel discouragement, that’s the enemy. If we feel anxious, overwhelmed, that is the enemy. The enemy’s goal is to hurt us, and if we feel feelings of doubt, and discouragement, you know the enemy is attacking you. And obviously, God is the opposite. He loves us. He cares for us. He asks us to cast our cares upon Him for He cares for us. God encourages us. He answers our prayers. God is our hope and salvation. Experiencing hope and encouragement is from the Lord.

Obviously, I haven’t quit before I started. I’m still here. After I prayed my desperate prayer, a funny thing happened on my way to quitting. I came home from the store and sat down at the computer. I was prepared to give it one more shot. There were a couple of things I didn’t know how to do and it was frustrating me. I decided to look up a newsletter about blogging, called the Useletter by Amy Lynn Andrews, to see if I could get some help. I pulled up the Useletter and I had a screenful of columns of newsletters to choose from. I randomly picked one of the newsletters and clicked on it. Wham! Of all the newsletters in all of that site I picked the one that was addressing my EXACT problem I was facing! I did exactly what she said. It worked! Hot dog, I was in business again! Just to make sure this wasn’t a fluke, I did it again, and it worked perfectly. Of all of the newsletters on that screen I just so happened to pick the exact one I needed. Now was this a coincidence? I think not! God was at work here. My first problem was solved.

My second problem was pictures. I wanted to attach a nice picture of God’s creation for my first blog. The so called free websites I was going to for pictures weren’t free. As I was fumbling with a picture I randomly clicked on a picture we already had taken a few years ago. It was so nice, I decided to use that one. I put it in my blog and it worked! I didn’t have to pay big bucks for it. I felt so hopeful and encouraged. I might just be able to do this whole blogging thing after all. There were these feelings bubbling up in me: hope, encouragement, joy…I was smiling by this time. Gone were those ugly feelings I had felt at the store. Gone was the discouragement. Gone was the feeling of wanting to quit.

The enemy only shows up when we are doing something that might harm his career of taking as many people to hell with him as he can. I must be doing something right, if the enemy was attacking me and telling me NOT to do the blog. That voice in the store, that was discouraging me, was the enemy. The guidance I felt as I worked on my blog, was the Lord.

It hit me smack in the face. If God was encouraging me and the enemy was discouraging me, I need to go with God. God wants me to do the blog. The enemy doesn’t. Hmmm, which should I choose? I think that’s obvious. So now I’ve done a 180 degree turn around. I feel hopeful about the blog. And if the enemy doesn’t want me to do it, I really probably should.

Don’t Forget Your Helmet!

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purple-grapesLast Saturday my son broke his thumb and wrist. He was skateboarding down a hill with some friends, began to wobble, fell off the board and put out his hand to catch himself. He walked in the house obviously favoring his right hand and announcing, “Mom, I think I broke my hand!” Rewind the scene a 1/2 hour earlier and you will see the point of my story.

A half hour before my son walked into the house with broken bones, he asked if he could go to the bike trails with his friends. Instantly, a thought passed through my brain, “Make sure he wears a helmet!” I looked up at him, “Only if you wear a helmet.”

My son: “Mom…I don’t want to wear a helmet.”

Me: “Then, you can’t go to the bike trails.”

My son: “My helmet’s broken, I can’t wear it.”

Me: “Then, no, you can’t go to the bike trails. I’ll only let you go if you wear the helmet.”

My son: “Fine, I’ll wear the helmet.”

That instant thought I had to tell my son he had to wear a helmet didn’t come from me. There have been so many times I have let him go to the bike trails without even thinking about a helmet. But this time, I was going to fight to the death. The voice in my head kept telling me, “Don’t let him go without a helmet. He NEEDS a helmet. Make sure he wears a helmet.” These weren’t my thoughts. This was a voice inside my head that could predict the future. I can’t predict the future. This voice was telling me to draw a line in the sand, make sure the boy is wearing a helmet. The voice didn’t tell me what was going to happen. It just was urgent-make sure he’s got on a helmet.

I love the way the Holy Spirit works in a Christian’s life. He tells us what to do, where to go, what to say, stop, go, wait. He is never pushy or demanding. He simply puts gentle thoughts in our head. We don’t have to listen to them. We could totally ignore them. But if we are willing to listen, if we are walking with the Lord, those thoughts come. When Jesus left the planet, He told His disciples to wait for a Gift. The Gift would come. That Gift was the Holy Spirit, the third Person of the trinity. He would be a Christian’s Guide.

I’ve heard that Mordecai, Esther’s uncle in the book of Esther, was a type of Holy Spirit. He gave suggestions to Esther as to what she should do next. Then Esther had a choice: she could either listen to Mordecai or blow him off and do her own thing. Esther of course, made the wise decision and followed the suggestions of Mordecai. We would be wise, as Christians, to always follow the Holy Spirit’s guidance. That’s what He is there for. He’s our Guide, our Gift as we live out our lives as Christians.

When my son came back in the house with his broken hand I looked at him and said, “Aren’t you glad you wore a helmet?”

My son: “Yes, I hit my head on the pavement too.”

Me: “You would have bigger problems than just a broken bone if you didn’t wear the helmet.”

My son: “I know!”

When we went to the doctor’s to get an xray, the nurse looked at him. He had a huge bleeding scrape above his elbow, and two giant welts on his back.

Nurse: “Were you wearing a helmet?”

My son: “Yes.”

Nurse: “Good thing you were wearing a helmet. You would have much bigger problems, if you didn’t”

My son: “I know.”

The Doctor came in.

The Doctor: “Were you wearing a helmet?”

My son: “Yes.”

The Doctor: “It was a good thing you were wearing a helmet. Broken bones can be fixed, but if you injure your head, that is a bigger problem that can’t be fixed easily.”

My son nodded his head. I think he was getting the point.

Three days later we were in the orthopedic Doctor’s office to switch my son’s hand from a splint to a cast. The PA came in.

PA: “So, how’d you break your hand?”

My son: “Skateboarding.”

PA: “Were you wearing a helmet?”

My son: “Yes.”

PA: “Well that’s good. You should always wear a helmet. You would have much bigger problems than a cast, if you weren’t wearing a helmet.”

I smiled at my son. I think he learned his lesson. There was a good reason, the Holy Spirit insisted I make sure my son wore his helmet.

Running For My Life – Part 3

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I was walking my bike up towards the cop. In my altered state of consciousness, I thought that I needed to get on my bike and ride passed the cop because this was a race and I could get into trouble for not riding my bike. So just when I got up to him, I hopped on my bike to ride. As I came upon him, he put up his hand to stop me. Now I knew I was in big trouble. A cop was stopping me. He might arrest me for not riding my bike. He said he wanted to talk to me. He asked me if I was okay? I said I didn’t know. He asked me to follow his finger with my eyes. I thought I did, but he told me to wait right there. I guess I didn’t pass the finger test. He told me my health wasn’t worth the race. He told me one of the race administrators would be along soon and I could get a ride with him. I was so out of it, I just nodded and stood there shakily.

Soon, a big truck came by and the cop stopped him and said I needed a ride. The guy got out of his truck and gave me a bottle of iced water. I sucked it down like the dehydrated person I was. He handed me another bottle. It wasn’t cold, but it still tasted good. He lifted my bike into the back of his truck. He said, “Whoa, this is a heavy bike…no wonder you couldn’t ride it.” The air conditioner in his truck was on full blast. I just sat there. Not saying anything.

He was picking up the cones on the race path. He said he could bring me back to the race and I could finish if I felt like it. He didn’t make me feel like a loser. He didn’t make me feel stupid. He just offered the suggestion that if I felt better, he would drop me off and I could finish. That it was all okay. Thank you friend. I’m feeling okay. The water, the goo, the air conditioner were all making me feel okay.

He dropped me off at the top of the hill and I rode down the hill on my bike to the racks. My daughter caught me there to cheer me on. I parked my bike in the rack and was determined to finish the face. I decided I would walk the 5K rather than run. I was feeling better, but the exhaustion was still with me. I wanted to finish the race really badly, but my body wasn’t cooperating. As I headed to the running path my body kept telling me to quit. But my mind and heart kept telling me not to quit. I was having this back and forth in my head when I suddenly got distracted with a hummingbird. There were no flowers or greenery anywhere near the path, it was just dirt. The hummingbird just hung in the air in front of me. I like hummingbirds. I stopped the argument in my head and stared at the bird. As I moved forward the hummingbird flew forward. It would then hang in the air as if it was waiting for me. I would catch up, and the bird would fly forward. We did this little dance until I was right smack into the race. It would take as much time to go back as it would to go forward. I realized this as my hummingbird friend flew away.

Suddenly this older woman in pink shorts runs right up along side of me. She started chatting with me and stopped running so she could walk with me. I asked her if she was part of the race and she said no. She’s done the race in the past, but she decided not to do it this year. She kept telling me I was okay and that I was doing well. She kept talking to me and kept me going. She walked with me the entire 5K until I could see my family up ahead waiting for me near the finish line. I said, “Oh, there’s my family up ahead.” I started moving towards them when my friend in the pink shorts disappeared. I don’t know where she went. But my family were smiling and waving me in, so I kept on going. They really bullied my spirits. I could see the finish line. I was going to finish. I crossed the line and they handed me a medal. I did it.

I went to go sit under a tree. My heart was still racing and I felt sick to my stomach. A friend who was also running the race wanted to take a picture with me. I smiled, but I felt like I was going to throw up. I was really dizzy too. I couldn’t wait to just go to our air conditioned car and sit. I was also craving a coke.

When I got home, I googled the symptoms I experienced on the race. I was having heat stroke. And heat stroke is apparently really bad. You can go into a coma once you pass out. One of the biggest signs of heat stroke is no sweating. You see, I just couldn’t take the heat and without water – it was the perfect storm. All of my husband’s fears had come to fruition.

But I didn’t die. I didn’t slip into a coma. God in His infinite kindness guided me through the whole race. He sent me a hummingbird, a stranger in pink shorts, and my family to guide my way. And I’m so grateful. And I have to tell you, I wasn’t last in the race either.

Running For My Life: Part 2

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This entry is part [part not set] of 1 in the series Running for my life: Part 2

clockI was really excited about this race. I was running 3 miles 4-5 times a week. I felt peppier. I slept really well at night. My legs were looking tone. I had a goal in mind that was all mine. Just me, running for me.

Notice I keep talking about the running. I was so proud of myself that I had started to run, that I just kept running. I had it in the back of my mind that I needed to bike, but I figured since I was getting into shape with running, the bike would be no problem. I borrowed a friend’s bike. It wasn’t a road race bike, it was a mountain bike and really heavy. I tried riding it a couple of times and it killed me in my nether regions. Oh, did that hurt. But hey, I was running, so even if the bike hurt, I could skate on the bike part because I was running.

The day of the race came. My husband was really worried about me. He thought I wasn’t ready because of the bike thing. He knew I hadn’t trained on it. He also knew there was no water bottle holder on the bike. He just knew something was going to go wrong. Unfortunately, he was right.

The day before the race I could feel myself coming down with a cold. I had a sore throat, so I didn’t want to drink water. Normally I’m a camel, but when I don’t feel good, I just don’t like to drink. My husband was driving me crazy with his worry about me and the race. He just wouldn’t let me be.

So at 5:30am on the race day in Palm Springs, I headed over to the race venue. I had butterflies in my stomach and hadn’t slept very well the night before. And I didn’t drink water like I needed to, so I wasn’t in the best of shape. We got there, no problem at all. I put my bike in the rack. I left a bottle of water near my bike in my helmet. I still didn’t drink any water like I should. I still had a sore throat and felt tired from the night before. I figured I was ready as I ever would be. Apparently, I was just delusional.

On a dry-tri, they let the swimmers go first because swimming takes more time. There was about a handful of us dry runners. When it was time, they blew a horn and I was off. By now the sun was fully up. I started running and immediately I felt a heaviness in my legs. I felt really, really hot and I had just started running. Three or four of the runners took off and left me and another lady in the dust. I could hear the lady behind me and her footfalls. I was keeping steady, but the heat was killing me and my legs felt like iron poles that just wouldn’t move. The lady behind me, caught up with me and than passed me off. She told me in passing, “I’m sixty, I’m really too old for this.” I told her she was passing me off, so she must be doing something right. I felt like the desert had zapped all of my energy out of me. I was barely running, but it felt like I had been running a marathon. The first mile was a loop that led us back to the bike racks. As I headed to the bike racks my husband was standing there. He asked me how I was doing. I answered honestly, “Not good.” But I kept plugging along.

I got to the bike rack and put on my helmet and walked my bike up the really steep hill that started the bike route. Women were passing me on all sides. I was so zapped of my energy, I didn’t care. I got up to the top of the hill and started riding down. I thought the breeze would cool me off, but I felt so much heat in my body, that the breeze made no difference. I felt a little woozy. I felt tired. I felt really hot. I should have noticed that I was not sweating. That is a really bad sign when one does not sweat. The least amount of movement in my house and I’m usually sweating. Nope. Not at this time.

So I started on the bike path that was completely flat once you got passed that first steep hill. My legs were frozen. I could barely move them. I felt like I was a heater. The first few miles are in direct sunlight. No shade whatsoever. Halfway through and my tire was losing air. I stopped to fill it up with air and to catch my breath. I was moving really slow, but my heart was pounding in my chest. I was shaking. I still wasn’t sweating. The trees around me were moving, even though there was no wind. I felt like I was going to pass out. I pumped up my tire on the bike and stood next to the bike for a bit to try and ease the pounding in my chest. I got back on the bike and my legs still felt like iron poles that wouldn’t move. I was riding my bike really, really slow. I felt shaky, so I decided to walk the bike. If I continued biking, I was afraid I would fall over in the ditch and no one would find me. A cow was across the street and it was staring at me. It watched me from across the road. I yelled at the cow, “What are you staring at?” At least I think I yelled at the cow. The cow was mocking me because I wasn’t riding my bike. The cow didn’t understand why I wasn’t riding my bike like all the other ladies. The cow just wouldn’t stop staring.

When I passed the cow, I got off the bike and just stood there. Things were going in and out of focus. I shakily held onto the bike, but I was sure I was going to pass out. Some racers came up behind me. They stopped and asked me if I was okay. I said I didn’t know. They asked me if I had water, I told them no. One of them handed me their water bottle and I squirted some water in my mouth. Another handed me a little packet of stuff called goo. I squeezed some in my mouth and it made me want to gag. I swallowed it anyway, and I immediately felt a bit better. I didn’t want to keep these nice ladies so I told them they could go, I would be okay. They said there’s a cop up ahead and he could help me. I told them thank you.

Running for My Life: Part 1

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This entry is part [part not set] of 1 in the series Running for My Life: Part1, Running for My Life: Part 2, Running for my life: Part 3

clock God knows His children so well. He knows our desires, secret or spoken. He knows our strengths and weaknesses. Shucks, He knows how many hairs are on our head. I’m always amazed at the little things He cares about in our lives. He cares about the non earth shattering things, if we are one of His. This is a story about God caring for His children in the seemingly little things of life.

On October 7, 2012, I ran my very first tri-sprint. You know, a triathlon, but much shorter miles are required. I didn’t even do the swim portion, I ran what is called the “dry-tri.” While most were swimming, I was running a mile, before I set out for the 14 mile bike ride. Then, the final leg, was to run a 5k (3.1 miles).

I decided back in April of 2012 that I needed to do something. Something that would stretch me and get my heart racing. Something that would combat my perimenopausal symptoms that I was fighting. I was 45 on this date and 46 when I ran the sprint. Now for some young whipper snappers, they probably laugh at my little tri-sprint. But I don’t care, it’s important that I did it.

The reason for me starting to run in my forties was because I had this story in my head that wouldn’t go away. My sister-in-law has a much older friend who didn’t start running until she was 45. She went to her doctor at that age and asked him what she could do to curtail the symptoms of perimenopause. The doctor told her that of all his patients, the ones that seem to get through the change of life most easily, were the runners. She had never considered running before, but now she did. So at 45 she started her career as a runner. She cruised through perimenopause in her running shoes. (She’s still a runner today at 70 plus years old).

This story was in the back of my mind as I entered my forties. I had been a walker since 2006. I walked 4.4 miles a day, faithfully, at least 4-5 times a week. But as I neared the 45 year old mark, my body started doing weird things. I couldn’t sleep well at night and I’ve always been a good sleeper. I would get anxious at night, right around 8:00-9:00pm. Yet I’m usually a fairly steady person, the non worrying type. My periods were becoming irregular, and I’ve always been like a clock. Things were amiss. And that story of my sister-in-law’s friend kept talking to me. I wasn’t 45 yet. I still had time.

So I turned 45 in July 2012. I was still walking faithfully. But my symptoms weren’t getting better. I also wasn’t losing any weight. So I decided to run. Where, I didn’t know. How, I didn’t know. So I googled “how to start running.” Yes, I googled that. You can google anything. The article I read said to start slow. I liked that. The article explained that if you start slow, you won’t get all sore and then quit altogether and never go back. So I decided to go slow, really slow. It was also about timing. I was to run for 10 minutes, then walk for 10 minutes, then run for 10 minutes. I could do this. I already had the walking part down. My goal was to run 3 miles straight without stopping. By June I met my goal. It was slow, but I didn’t stop.

During this time I was googling races or some kind of goal I could set my mind to. A friend of mine had run a tri-sprint and did really well at it. I decided, that’s what I could do. I’d always been fascinated with the Iron Man Triathlon. I watched it when that one girl couldn’t make it over the finish line and started crawling to finish the race. That impressed me and fascinated me. I found the tri-sprint my friend had done. There was one in Palm Springs in October. It was an all women race, which I liked a lot. Men are just too competitive. Besides, I would feel like a giant sloth when they passed me off.

So now I had a goal. I was going to run the tri-sprint in Palm Springs in October 2012. Now Palm Springs is a desert. A really hot, dry desert. And here in California, we don’t have much in the way of seasons. I didn’t think about it, but that race was going to be really hot. And this Alaskan girl doesn’t like hot one little bit.