To preface this post, I would like to say that anyone who does not believe the Word is a living document and just as powerful today as it was when Jesus and the apostles walked the earth, will not agree, or understand, what I have to say.
Last week, while putting a mask on for the first time since the coronavirus fiasco began, I felt my stomach drop. To fly you now must wear a face covering, but that didn’t change my feelings of defeat when I positioned the mask over my mouth before boarding the plane.
When I placed the mask upon my face, I felt small, belittled, obedient to something other than my King.
God created me, us, to speak, to sing, to pray, so to mute and muddle that ability seems wrong, almost sinful.
I am very particular of the people I listen to, the books I read and where I send my tithe. I believe this stems from growing up and being very involved in a church as a child, a church my parents (through discernment) fortunately made the decision to leave prior to learning the pastor was living a lie. This lie ultimately hurt thousands and caused many to turn from the Lord.
That experience as a young girl taught me to be very discerning when it comes to those who preach the gospel. The majority of pastors I listen to, or read books they author, have long since gone home to Heaven and I wouldn’t even need a full hand to count the number of today’s pastors I would say I “follow”.
Yesterday, my sister forwarded me an email from the church I have called home for over a decade. This church has pushed my faith deeper, has forced me into the Word to find answers and to rely on the Lord for everything. The Pastor’s wisdom and insight has, over the many years of listening to him, inspired me to know the Lord more intimately and to stand on the Word regardless of what I see or feel. Although I no longer live in the state where this church resides, I still tithe there and listen to the services as often as I can. Whenever I travel back to the state, I make sure to book a returning ticket late enough to assure my attendance on Sunday morning service.
So, when I opened my messages and saw the below email, to say I was shocked, disheartened, confused or troubled, would be an understatement…I was, and still am, totally and completely heartbroken.
It is time for the pastors to arise, to stand on the platform the Lord is giving them an opportunity to take and to speak the words He places in their mouths.
For, we are here, in this place of quarantine, fear and uncertainty, not because of the words spoken by the media, the masses and the representatives, but rather because of the words NOT spoken by the men and women placed in positions of authority in God’s House.
Before I step onto my soapbox, I want to start this post with a couple statistics and thoughts before I begin my “rant”.
The original U.S. coronavirus death toll prediction was 2.2 million, that number later changed to 240,000 and is now around 70,000. During the 2017-2018 flu season, according to the CDC, an estimated 80,000 people died.
I am not making light of death in any way. It is terrible so many died from the flu and it is terrible so many have died from the coronavirus, BUT, where was the mass hysteria during the 2017/2018 flu season? Why did politicians and medical experts not blanket the airways with panic, stating the CDC declared the 2017/2018 season as the, “first season to be classified as a high severity across all age groups”?
Why did we react so differently to that health threat then we have to COVID-19?
I’m now stepping onto my soapbox.
What we are witnessing in today’s society are the masses believing in and acting upon a lie.
God your Remnant is in need of you, desperate to hear from you, see you, be with you. We need you like we have never needed you before.
I believe this time of desperation is going to usher in a great awakening of God’s people, for we have been asleep too long. A heavy slumbering spirit has weighed down upon God’s children, but no more. We are awake! This attack of the enemy has roused us, forced us out of our comfortable caves and pushed us to grab our swards, take up our shields and stand guard at our doors.
The Lord is about to issue a call to His people, get ready for it. He is about to blow the trumpet, release the roar. It will spread about this country, this world, like wildfire. Be careful to not get caught in its blaze without your armor on, your helmet fit snugly in place.
This time of quarantine has been difficult. I don’t believe there is a person in the world unimpacted by what is happening around the globe right now. Although it seems as if our world has been flipped upside down and our norms are now abnormal, I believe the greatest difficulty many are struggling with is the heaviness that accompanies depression.
The spirit of despair is wreaking havoc on our population. Men, women and children all around the globe are struggling with thoughts of uncertainty, pointlessness, sadness and, worst of all, suicide.
This spirit is a heavy and aggressive one. It creeps into your mind like a silent predator and over time becomes bigger and bigger, often getting to a point where the spirit is greater than the circumstance. Things that once seemed small become monsters in our minds. Issues that were manageable become uncontrollable and daily matters that accompany life are suddenly too heavy to carry.
Throughout the past two weeks, I have found myself becoming ever-increasingly frustrated with the way humanity is handling the coronavirus. My frustration, for days, has been so intense there are times I have to excuse myself from conversations focused on the virus due to my concern of sounding angry towards whoever is obsessing about it.
So, as sat down with the Lord this morning, I asked Him for one thing, “DIRECTION”. I thought He would give me some sort of clarity on what the next step is or how to go about handling this new era of panic and dread, but instead, the Lord showed me where my frustration stemmed from.
We, the body, the believers, the church, do not know who our God is.