as I walk

the journey to becoming me

Promised Land

It’s one of those days- those days where I write twice.  Inside of my brain right now is a whirlpool- there are many things that have been taken by the current and are swishing by one after another.  I’m going to try to focus on one at a time, but I do believe that they are all interconnected. 

Tonight at Greenhouse (this seems to be a common sentence beginning in these posts), God started surgery.  Well, for the sake of accuracy, I believe it was the pre-op appointment when He sat down with me and told me I’d need surgery.  For those of you that have had an appointment like that, you know it’s overwhelming.  There’s denial, fear, confusion, and the potential for procrastinating the surgery.  I was doing really well today too.  I had a great workout, a great song in my head, we’re walking through Joshua which I’ve already read this year… I wasn’t expecting anything.  All this talk of “The Promised Land”… I know that I’m supposed to have my own personal “Promised Land” (hence the quotations marks), so I’ve just… assumed that it is/was North Korea (I can safely speculate that I’m the only US citizen that would say that).  I realized that I don’t really know what my “Promised Land” is.  Yes, I know that NK and I are bound together and that I will set foot on her soil one day, but I wouldn’t call it the “Promised Land”.  It’s definitely not a land flowing with milk and honey.  It’s not “good”.  It’s just a country that I feel called to.  So what is my “Promised Land”?  

Kati spoke and I was loving it.  I mean… pulling Ecclesiastes into a talk on Joshua… that totally has my interest.  Then it shifted.  Things got real.  She shared a bit of her story and it hit me in the chest.  She fought for her “Promised Land”.  She refused to believe the lies.  She fought.  
Now, in speaking of fighting, she unpacked this concept of “herem”- which is basically a combination of devotion to the Lord and destruction of evil.  Kind of like consecration, but on crack (in a manner of speaking).  My first thought was “if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off”.  I’m probably over simplifying the concept, but that seems like “herem” on a personal level.

So back to the surgery concept (I did warn that this might be a bit jumpy)- I had my gall bladder removed at the end of December because it was causing me great pain and had the potential of killing me.  It was painful, expensive and scary.  Also, it turns out that I have a late forming allergy to adhesives, so I also got a bonus rash (that caused the roof of my mouth to swell) out of the deal.  Yes, I’m glad it’s done because it was a diseased gall bladder with big ol’ stones in it, but did surgery suck?  Yes.  Would I want to do it again?  No.  Am I still dealing with the after effects of it?  Yup.  Yet, God decides “Hey, you need surgery.  Now.”  At least with North Shore, they sent me an email explaining the risks.  I’m pretty sure though, that I have a good idea of what these risks are- this surgery won’t be done laparoscopically, but rather with… confession.  

The past few times I’ve been to church this concept of confession has come up.  The first time I remember hearing it, and shutting that idea down immediately.  I mean, I confess my junk to God… granted it’s in a very… mumbly… sort of way.  He knows what’s up… why should I be all vocal about it?  The next time… I thought about what it would be like to do that.  I’ve been going on this vulnerability journey… but that would be taking it too far.  I mean, I could lose friends over this kind of stuff.  It would be awful, devestating, the end of the world.  That’s right, confession would be the end of the world.  Today again, it came up.  It just doesn’t feel safe.  I want to want to do this.  I want to be able to say that I’ve confessed my crap to someone.  I want to say that I’m fighting for my “Promised Land”.  I’m scared.  I am scared that I’ll get some kind of “post-op rash”.  I am scared that this could kill me.  I know that I need to do some surgery… it’s probably more like amputation really.  

Towards the end of service, I was prayed for-  “The Promised Land is coming”.  As great as that is, what good is it if I don’t know what it is?  How can I be like Joshua and scout it out if I don’t know what/where it is?  Will I miss it?  Will I know it when I see it?   Will I have the drive to fight for something that I know nothing of?  Am I willing to do the “herem”/surgery via confession in hopes that it gives me a glimpse of the “Promised Land”?  I’m so tired of pain.  I don’t want just a vision of it, only to have it taken away… I either want it, or I want to live in the wilderness without any knowlege of it- ignorance is bliss.  






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