Tag: confession

Searching for Signal

On By Michele Huey, Author & SpeakerIn Christian livingLeave a comment

You will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart. —Jeremiah 29:13 NKJV

I was watching a baseball game on television one rainy evening when the picture began breaking up.  The screen went black, and white letters appeared across the bottom: “Searching for satellite signal. Please stand by.”

After a half hour of trying to keep up with the score on a fragmented, silent screen, I gave up and went to bed. The next day, however, the reception wasn’t any better, but then again, neither was the weather. 

“I don’t remember the reception ever being this bad,” I complained to my husband.

“Maybe I didn’t angle the dish right,” he said.

At the time we were siding our house, and he’d taken the dish off the side of the house and attached it, facing the southern sky, to a post in the ground.

He pulled out the instruction manual and flipped through until he came to the section on adjusting the dish. Fifteen minutes later, we had a clear picture. Although the dish had been pointed in the right direction, it had to be at a precise angle to receive the signal from the sending satellite.

Sometimes the storms of life interfere with the signals God sends me. Or sometimes, even though I’m facing the right direction, I’m not receiving what He’s telling me because I have the wrong angle. That “angle” could be selfishness, hurt feelings, a touch of envy or jealousy, or a simmering anger. Maybe I’m nursing a grudge and harboring unforgiveness. Perhaps my desires are becoming worldly, or I’m pursuing something I know is not in God’s will for me.

Whatever the interference—whether outside of my control, such as a storm, or within my control, such as my own rebelliousness—it causes me to lose contact with a God who promises never to leave me nor forsake me (Deuteronomy 31:6,8; Hebrews 13:5).

So how do I adjust my angle so that I’m once again getting a clear picture?

First I pray, confessing my willfulness and sin. Or, if a life-storm is the problem, I ask God to guide me through it, protect me, and strengthen me.

Source : praying hands with bible background 12

Then I read His Word. While I don’t play “Bible roulette,” picking verses at random, God’s Holy Spirit often brings to mind certain portions of Scripture that address my beleaguered spirit. Frequently the day’s scheduled reading is just what I need. His Word truly is “a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Psalm 119:105), “full of living power, sharper than the sharpest knife,” cutting deep into my innermost thoughts and desires, revealing to me what I really am (Hebrews 4:12).

Just reading His Word isn’t enough, however. I must meditate on it, think of how it relates to me, how to apply what I’ve read to my own situation. Then I pray again, asking God to forgive me, help me, and guide me.

Unlike my satellite dish, my angle needs adjusted every day, even moment by moment. But I know, whether storms are raging outside or inside, if I seek God with all my heart, He has promised I will find Him (Jeremiah 29:13). Only then will I have a clear picture.

Thank You, God, that You are never far away. Why, You’re as close as the mention of Your name! Amen.

Read and reflect on Psalm 63:1–8.

From God, Me, & a Cup of Tea: 101 devotional readings to savor during your time with God © 2017 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

Dealing with the Subtle Sins

On By Michele Huey, Author & SpeakerIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

image

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. –Psalm 51:10 NIV

I should be ashamed to admit it, but dusting is just not something on my must-do list. Call it laziness, call it setting priorities, call it avoidance, call it denial (“It’s not that bad.”), call it whatever you want. In my opinion, it’s a futile activity, especially in the winter. Especially if you have a wood stove. Especially if your furnace has a blower. I could dust one day, and the next day it doesn’t even look like it.

The only time the thickening accumulation bothers me is when the sun is shining. Then, and only then, will the dust be dealt with. Unless there’s company coming, which is as rare as me dusting. And then I give it a lick and a promise.

Just as the dust accumulates in my house if I don’t deal with it, so sin accumulates in my heart. Call it laziness, call it setting priorities, call it avoidance, call it denial, call it what you will, but if not dealt with, it results in spiritual dryness, an empty prayer life, and stunted Christian growth.

Lent has always been a time for spiritual introspection, a time to clean my spiritual house and get rid of the hindrances, time to face the ugly things I’d rather keep hidden, for I’m ashamed they even exist in me.

Yet I’m an imperfect human being, struggling to live a godly life in an ungodly world. I don’t lie (outright), but is there any way I deceive others? I haven’t murdered anyone, but have I, by spreading gossip, murdered someone’s reputation? I claim to love others, but do I harbor bitterness or envy or unforgiveness in my heart?

For the next six weeks, we’re going to examine some of these subtle sins. Today we’ll start with envy.

Years ago I discussed unanswered prayer with a friend at church. I couldn’t understand why there seemed to be a roadblock to book publishing. My first novel was considered by the publishing committee at several houses only to be turned down again and again. In addition, speaking and teaching gigs had dried up.

He asked if there was unconfessed sin in my life. I told him I’d considered it, but didn’t really see anything. I prayed for God to show me, but He knew I wasn’t ready. I really didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know. God always brings us to a place of readiness first.

Then we started a two-week prayer and fasting time for a writers and speakers network I belonged to. Many needed breakthroughs, especially financial. The first devotional was about sin hindering prayer. Once again I prayed, “Lord, show me …”

And He did. The sin was envy. Not a strong presence (so I thought), but a grasping one. I don’t want to say “little,” because no sin is little in the eyes of God. But when others asked for prayer for favor for their book proposals, for book contracts or speaking engagements, the envy would stir. “I want that for me, too!” I’d cry silently. And I wouldn’t—I couldn’t—pray with a sincere heart.

If you couldn’t have it, why should they? Envy whispered.

For so long I either denied the envy I harbored or refused to acknowledge it was strong enough to affect me and make a difference. I was wrong.

Unlike dusting my house, cleaning the accumulated dirt in my heart is not futile. It’s vital.

Lord, pluck this envy out of my heart! Then spray the weed killer of Your Word to destroy any root left behind. Plant the seed of Your love to grow, spread, blossom, and give off a sweet fragrance. Envy has hidden in me for a long time, and I will have to be on my guard, watching for it in case it sprouts again. Never again will I underestimate the cost and the power of this deadly sin. Only through the blood of Your Son, Jesus, can I overcome this and live the life You have called me to live. I thank You for Your patience, steadfast love, and unending mercy and grace. In the name of Him Who died so that I might live, Jesus Christ, my Savior and Lord of my life. Amen.

 Read and reflect on James 3:13–4:10

From God, Me, & a Cup of Tea for the Seasons, © 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved. Used with permission.