What comes to you mind when you hear the term ‘Spiritual Formation’?
What image is formed in your mind?
For many people ‘Spiritual Formation’ is a ‘step program’ that they undertook when they believed in the Lord Jesus and made the same confession with their mouths. It is an event not a continuous process. This is tragic to say the least.
. . .Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed . . .
(1 Corinthians 9:10/Isaiah 55:10)
If you ever attended Lightie then you must know this entire Scripture by heart – 1 Corinthians 9:6-11. When I attended church there it was one of those we recited during the giving time. I have loads of precious memories of Lightie so many. And they all came flooding back late last week thanks to my Mother quoting that part of the text up there.
So on Friday (5th June 2020) last week, my mum sent me one of her notorious cryptic messages. Her messages are almost always cryptic. They are so short form, short form has nothing on her. The words have no vowels, the consonants are usually merged together like a forced relationship. In most cases she will write a three line sentence to communicate fifty things and you are expected to decipher and action immediately. This particular message was true to her style and I had just one look at it and growled, why can’t she just write full words! I tried to decipher it and was getting mixed up and not understanding most of it. There was however one part of it that was very clear, I was to send some amount of money to a certain Child of God. I was busy trying to beat a deadline on something so I put that message in the ‘to do list’ at the back of my head.
I am the fulfillment of their wildest dreams
My Grandmother
My Mother
My Aunties
My Godmother
My Sisters
My Daughters
My Son
He extends His Hands towards me
He draws me to Himself
I am infused into Him
I am Birthed in Him and from Him
Let loose still held by Him
Dancing with Him
Embraced by Him
One with Him
I was running
Running for my life
When I crossed the border I felt safe
But that safety was momentarily lived
Because soon enough fear began to engulf me
Fear that even here, I would be followed and dragged back into slavery
So I began to search for a clutch to hold onto, a shield to protect me
I clung onto the first one that I saw, holding on with dear life
I never felt the spikes that were cutting through my flesh the closer I clung to my new found clutch
The closer the shield pressed onto my wounded body
I was enveloped in the fear of the past showing up at my doorstep
But while my mind grew numb, my body took the battering on our behalf
Soon enough my mind could no longer be numb to the fact that our new found saviour was nothing
But the living breathing mirror image of our past
I love asking questions. I ask a lot of questions. In one of my former work places one of the older employees (who has since died may she rest in peace) got tired of my questions and one day in frustration, raise voice and hands in surrender she told me:
Joyce, you are a walking questionnaire!
As you can imagine, I stopped asking questions unless it was absolutely necessary. Through this experience and many like it, I learnt early on two critical things about my questions:
These two realities are a double tragedy because one of those spaces was at home and one of those people was my parents. The second space was school and the people not to be asked questions was teachers. And the third space was work and the people not to be asked questions was virtually everyone from bosses to the gatemen!
By the grace of God today, I am officially a mother of a 6 year old, a 4 year old and a 2 year old; living children
If you know even a tad bit about my story . . . this is nothing short of a miracle!
I am grateful for the gift of these children that God gave me, O ŭgŭo tŭhŭ (freely given)
That being said, the reality is parenting is haaaaard. I have cried, I have silently auctioned these gifts to the highest bidder (never got any though), I have felt like a total failure! I have questioned my capacity to raise up a child let alone three. I have been exhausted, had sleepless nights, had everlasting days and nights. But God has been faithful through it all. He has carried us through.
I look at these children and remind myself, by God’s grace, I am a good mother. I am doing well.
They walk and talk among us. Some we know. Some we don’t. Some are strangers. Some are Friends. But they all have one thing in common; they are healers.
There are those heal with Words. Their voice soothes wounded souls. Their words water quenched souls bringing life and hope. When they speak, dying embers are fanned to flames. Dreams are revived. Vision is refocused. Slopping limbs are strengthened.
There are those who heal with Touch. Their touch calms wounded bodies. Their touch soothes scars and heals wounds. It brings healing and wholeness. When they touch, they restore faith and trust. Calmness of the body invigorates the entire being as one rests in their safe arms.
There are those who heal with their very Presence. Their presence signals that everything will be ok. They walk into chaos, be it physical spaces or human lives and emanate healing all around. We long for these healers. They might be few and far in between, but they are life giving.
There are those who heal with Action. They do no say much. They might even touch much. By when they own a space or a human and what concerns them, you can rest assured they will not rest until everything is sorted out. They will climb mountains for you, for your healing, for your wholeness. They will sacrifice self and property to acquire your healing.
I am grateful for healers. They make life easier. They restore. They energize. They refresh. They refocus. They uplift. They encourage.
Where would the world be without healers!
Where would we be without the Greatest Healer!
He who heals from the inside out. He who knows us as we are, yet still lavishly loved us. He who made a choice to become one of us so that He could make us like Him. I am so grateful for Jesus. He heals with Words, with Touch, with Presence, with Action.
Last couple of months have really been tough for me. I actually had not realised the toll on my person until I sat down a few days ago and did some stock taking. Realised that I had not had one good night of sleep in months! My back is aching, I have on and off headaches and I am generally just tired.
So let me fill you in on the back story.
When you are so used to keeping quiet
Instead of speaking your thoughts
When you have been dumbed down
When you speak you follow it with an apology
When you are so used to not being seen
Instead of living your fullest
When you have been made into a shadow
When you are seen you follow it with an apology
When you are so used to not think
Instead of processing your thoughts
When your mind has been caged
When you think you follow it with an apology
When you are so used to not feel
Instead of expressing your feelings
When your emotions have been trivialized
When you feel you follow it with an apology
Whatever you do
However much resistance
Keep speaking
Keep thinking
Keep feeling
The freedom and life that flows from it
Will slowly but surely wipe out the apology
The energy and boldness that flows from it
Will set you free
To Speak
To Think
To Feel
Without Apology!
#ToLiveAndLetLive
