Creştini imaturi spiritual? – L. Ravenhill

Un mesaj de actualitate in vremurile de pe urma. Preluat de pe blogul

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„Fie ca mâinile mele să facă alegerea pe care a făcut-o El, fie ca picioarele mele să alerge în modul în care El a alergat.

  Fie ca ochii mei să-L vadă pe Isus. Fie ca buzele mele să vorbească spre slava Lui. Totul pentru Hristos!

   Toate puterile mele răscumpărate.

   Toate gândurile, cuvintele şi faptele mele,

   Toate zilele şi toate orele mele!”

                                                                                                                        Leonard Ravenhill

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A testimony of God’s saving grace

monarch-emerging“Reveal yourself to me, God” that was the prayer I prayed for weeks and weeks, as I couldn’t go on living in that paralysing fear, anxiety, depression as a result of my unfortunate choices in life. I would ask God to just open my eyes to the wondrous things of his Word (Ps.119: 18) as it’d become to me just theoretical approach to Christianity, totally void of power to change. It had no effect me to know that His Word is like a hammer that breaks rocks into pieces.
In my desperation I started to read Psalm 51 and 91, sometimes twice daily. I did that for about 2 weeks then I came across Joel 2: 25 “I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten”. That was the last hammer blow that would shatter my stony heart. I chose to believe that word and gently and gracefully God has shown me all the years he has watched me trying to do the Bible and still carry around my old baggage being so self-absorbed and staring at my hopelessness and refusing to see the solution in trusting him. I was broken under the conviction that God has chosen to come to this earth and take all my sin, which I have gilded with Christianity.
For the first time in my life I was given to see the exceeding sinfulness of my sin, the ugliness, and the darkness that I harboured. This is sheer miracle. Yes, I always knew I sinned, but it wasn’t that black, just something I would say sorry for and go on. It became real for me the verse in Matthew 6:23 (But if your eye is evil, your whole body will be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!) I never saw that great darkness in me before, and the fact that Jesus came and shed his blood to wash me clean of that darkness broke me to pieces.
I gave my life back into his hands and asked him to restore my life and begged him to heal my brokenness. Soon after, a sense of hope and faith started to rise in me like I have never sensed before. It was like night turning into day. That moment I knew what this mystery called faith is and didn’t worry about my future anymore. It was like I’ve got a new lease of life, like a I was a new being, it’s like having a new mind, hating what I once loved and loving what I didn’t care about before. All of a sudden fear and anxiety were not under my magnifying glass anymore, and I was determined to humble myself and that’s when I wanted to find some church and share this little victory as I was sure it wouldn’t last had I not shared it with others and keep me accountable.
I guess I needed to see the great darkness to really see light, God’s light. I am now sure that “there is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still”.


“Honour God with your trust”.
It dawned on me like
the soothing rays of the rising sun
after a dreadful stormy night.
I cried over and over again
“Lord, help me trust you”,
but nothing seemed to change.
I am tired of fighting for survival,
keeping my head above the water,
all alone.

Worry, helplessness, confusion…
They, too, fight for survival.
No, they aim for destruction.
Raging, desperate cries:
“Don’t you care that I perish?”
Ravaged thoughts!
Shivering, I hand them over to him.
“He delivered him up for us all,
How shall he not with him also, freely give us
All things?”

Why do you say,
“My way is hidden from the Lord”?
He gives power to the faint,

When you have no might he increases strength.
When you faint and fall exhausted;
you wait for the Lord, he shall renew your force;

you shall mount up with wings like eagles,
you will run and not be weary;

you shall walk and will
not faint.

“What more do you want?
He’s your bleeding Saviour,
He wiped your slate clean.”
His blood purifies your conscience
From the dead works
to serve the mighty King.
You are more than conqueror,
through Christ all things you can do,
because he’s the one giving you

The last beat


A fist and a heart clenched in.

A fist wrapped around a heart

in a killing grip.

Squeezing the life out

Chocking it,

Hurting it.

How did I get here?

Without even knowing it

There’s not enough blood sustaining it

There’s something squeezing the life out of me.

So many things.

Don’t even know them by their name.

What a life…..

Half a life.

Pumping to half of its capacity

“be free, breathe, change” they hail

But how can I when there’s this

Killer fist dripping my blood

out of my veins?

“change, change” but they walk by,

With a sigh and half of a grin.

And I’m still here under this grip

That chokes the life out of me.

I cannot breathe and my heart

can’t even have a whole of a beat,

maybe the next would be the last.

SFR 20.01.13


Blessed are the eyes that
have seen
but your love.
Blessed are the ears
that only hear your voice
above the noise.
Blessed is the tongue
That only spoke
of wonders in your Word.
Blessed are the hands
That have worked
but to glorify Your Name.

Blessed are the feet
that only walked your way.

Blessed is the mind
Where thoughts of You
have only nestled.

Blessed is the one
who’s ever known
but splendour of
your presence.

Yet I have cast aside
that blessing and
traded it with curse.

Once my first parents
broke out
Into the knowledge
of good and evil,
They thought that they
had broken free.
Never has it occurred to them
that being free,
without you,
is sheer slavery.

It’s not only around me,
resides my very soul;
I’m sick of all the evil
That I’ve known.

The shadows in my past
They’ve shackle me.

Hidden from sight

Crimson rubies dancing
On a blade…..
Wailing and mourning
a gloomy dance of death.

Pain is not above my skin
As it is beneath this
Shallow veil that hides
This dreadful agony inside;
It rather flows with drips
of grief
Out of a wound that
No one sees,
A wound much deeper
than the skin.

It mingles with relief
And rolling down my arms.
There is release from
unimagined misery.
This ache has just unleashed
Some comfort from
this pain that flows,
hidden from sight.
23. sept.2013