Below is a letter I sent today to Beth Moore. I recently attended a simulcast conference hosted by her. Note that some of the information has been edited/condensed for the sake of space. I am sharing this transparent and humble peek into my life for three reasons:
1. To express gratitude to our Sovereign God who who has the power to work within the world, in spite of the enemy, in the face tragedy, and even within the weaknesses of His children.
2. To testify to the healing power of Jesus through His outrageous forgiveness and grace in the life of this broken yet persistent child.
3. To bear witness to the Holy Spirit moving and working through the words and ministry of those around us.
To Him be all the glory, praise and honor. Amen.
Dear Beth~ Sept 26, 2013
I’m not sure where to start this so please bear with me. I serve as a hospital staff chaplain at our community hospital, as well as a pastor. I want to share with you how the Holy Spirit really showed off through your simulcast on September 14th. I will try to be as brief as I can.
Recently, three events, that at first glance have nothing to do with each other, came crashing together. The first involved an important decision I faced. Your simulcast on September 14this the second event and a horrendous tragedy in our community is the third.
First, the decision. After much praying, journaling, discerning, etc, I made the decision and acted upon it. I knew immediately I had NOT followed God’s will. I can reason all I want but that’s the truth of it. I spent hours upon hours repenting, crying, praying, and ultimately flogging myself for being a horrendous disappointment to God. Through my self-chastising, I had lost my confidence in who God created me to be.
As I arrived at your Simulcast on September 15th, the second event in this trifecta, I had really made myself out to be the worst disappointment God ever had and was even questioning my ability to serve. Then… WOW… did the Holy Spirit speak to me through your words. It felt as though you were staring straight at me through that video screen when you said, “Girlfriend, you are not a disappointment to God!” And you did not just say it once, but again and again and again. (Which is a good thing since I tend to be a little dense sometimes.) I was a writing fanatic as you taught about the word disappointment. You then spoke the beautiful Truth that our Father knows our weaknesses, knows WHY we have our weaknesses, and will and does still desire for us to serve Him in His kingdom. This is a truth that I know, that I have preached, that I have prayed. However, in my demeaning self-talk, the enemy had robbed me of that Truth. I left the simulcast with the new self-talk of “NO LONGER will I demean myself and NO LONGER will I rob God of His joy when His forgiveness is received and rejoiced in by the recipient… ME!” I had my confidence back. Little did I know on that Saturday evening, just how much I was going to need that healing and that confidence.
Sunday, September 15th at 7:00am, I began my 48-hour shift at the hospital. At 7:59, I got a call from the hospital that we had a Code Yellow (mass casualty) and several Code Pinks (Code blue for children). Upon my arrival and to my horror, I walked into five little children, ages 22-months to six years old, in five different ER rooms. Each precious little one was surrounded by a team working desperately to save them from their injuries incurred by a fire in their home. A 24-year old man, the father of the youngest, was already pronounced dead at the scene. As I looked room to room, catching the eyes of my fellow hospital team members, I knew “The Look”. These little ones were not going to live. I quickly and deliberately went child to child, laying my hands on their sweet little faces, and prayed a blessing over each one of them. The mommy of these babies was in our waiting room and I moved her to our private family room and promised I would return as soon as possible with information. As I returned to the ER, the children were being pronounced dead, one by one by one. Seasoned firemen, EMT’s and hospital staff was weeping. This fire took the lives of this mommy’s boyfriend and all five of her children, along with her entire home and absolutely every personal belonging she had.
The ER Manager, some staff, and myself cleaned up the children as best and as quickly as we could and moved them to one room, preparing them for when their mommy would come identify them. Tears flowed as we gently and lovingly performed this horrendous task. Then, the ER physician and myself went to the mommy and spoke the most difficult words I have ever had to say to anyone. The primal cry of anguish was heard through the hospital hallways. The weeping that occurred in the subsequent hours by her and by the multitude of family members that I brought two-by-two to see the children is unexplainable. For eight hours, I stoically and faithfully worked this scene, leaving the hospital with the worst of sadness and weariness. I had served this family, directed the police protection that had to be called in, ordered a local newspaper photographer off the property (those are two stories in their own!), and attempted to support our own hospital staff. When my husband later asked me how I managed, I simply stated “I did not, God did, I could never have done it without Him.”
On Tuesday, heartbroken, overcome with fatigue, and finally sitting down with the Lord by myself and for myself, the Spirit revealed to me the tying together of these three events. I was too tired to read scripture, felt very unsettled, and picked up my notes from Saturday’s Simulcast to look over. My eyes fell upon the words I had written down about disappointment and about God’s desire for us to serve Him in spite of our weaknesses. It was as if a glow of light and a deepness of understanding beamed up out of my darkness. The Holy Spirit had used the words spoken on Saturday to heal my battered soul. The healing, the strength, the confidence and the Truth that I could still be a servant in the Kingdom washed over me all at once. God had truly gone before me. He had prepared me on Saturday for the horror of what was to come on Sunday. I truly believe I could not have served near what I did if I had not received that healing and filling up on Saturday.
Thank you, Beth, for being such a beautiful and loving servant of our King Jesus. The Holy Spirit used your willing spirit to speak to my battered up soul. Thank you for your own seeking and discernment that allows you to be open to speaking His Words to the multitudes. You, girlfriend, are a sweet blessing to my own journey.
I bless you with the strength of God as you arise each morning.
I bless you with the all-encompassing love of Jesus as you go about your day.
I bless you with the peace of the Holy Spirit as you lay your head to rest.
And all God’s Girls said… AMEN!