The Dead shall live again

I had some ministry three weeks ago. It was a big event for me, and in a way, I am still processing some of the things that God did during that time. I seem to be getting new revelation about it every day.

I was just outside on my back porch and I had this deep thought, that just came to me in a memory.

When I was 12 years old, in 6th grade, I seemed to have a knack for saying and doing things that shocked the adults in my life. Once at school, we had this project we had to do in which we had to try and come up with goals for our lives. The teachers asked the students to envision where we would be in five, ten and fifteen years. It was to be done, like a little report, something to save for many years to see if we were able to meet those goals.

For five years, I wrote that I would be seventeen, and a senior in high school. I talked about being on the basketball team and all kinds of dreams and hopes for that season of my life. The tricky part was to project ten years into my future. Under the topic of “where will you be in ten years”, I simply wrote the word “dead”. I really have no idea why I wrote that, but it sure caused quite a stir in my little world. My teacher made a big deal out of it, and sent me straight to the counseling department. I felt like I had been busted big time, and my only response was to try to get out of this terrible thing I had done.

I was grilled for over an hour, all the while, in shock that they were making such a big deal out of it. I was asked why I thought I would be dead, to which I had no clever response whatsoever. I simply said I didn’t think I would live that long. The idea of reaching the age of 22 just seemed out of reach for me. I don’t really remember what came out of that, they seemed to just let it go, and I was quite relieved to be off the hook.

Later that summer, I went to a Christian came up in Hendersonville, NC. We didn’t go to church, but a friend had invited me to go with her, so I ended up going. It was great fun. I loved the songs and skits and all the great people. I was having the time of my life.

At one of the devotions, the leader had all the girls go outside and choose a piecee of nature that reflected themselves. I made my choice and went back inside, not knowing we would be required to discuss our choices and why we chose it as being a mirror of ourselves.

One girl chose a rock, and said it was because she was both hard and stubborn, but also a strong person. Another chose a maple leaf, because she thought it was pretty. Another chose a pinecone, because it was brown like her hair. As I listen to each girl, I was amazed at how well they had made their choice, and each one really did seem to define them.

When it came my turn to speak, I held up my choice and said “I chose this leaf, because it is dead”. I knew right away my decision was not a good one. Every one got very quite. The look of shock on their faces made me regret my attempts at honesty. It seemed my mouth had once again brought me great trouble. Once again, I was grilled about my honesty. I learned at that point to watch what I said, because I certainly did not enjoy the negative attention either of those decisions caused.

As I was sitting outside just now, I realized that was not me, but my 12 year old alter named Juls, who made those negative confessions, both in my school report and at the camp. She caused me quite a bit of unwanted attention over the years. In my ministry recently, Juls came out and spoke just a little. She was deeply wounded, and went through some intense emotions as the Lord ministered to her. She was triggered by something, and had some body memories as a result. It took a while, as things got very intense, so intense that I was foggy and numb from head to toe. Even now, I struggle to remember all that was said, and done on her behalf.

There were times of complete torment. I remember her body trembling in pain and fear, but only from an outside perspective. Jesus came to her in the midst of all this, and she was touched deeply, and came to accept Jesus as her savior. He came to her and healed memory after memory. He took her back to that school room, and that camp, and He touched wounds she had been carrying alone for so many years. It was incredible. I saw in my mind, this twelve year old girl, carrying much more burden than any 12 year old should have to face. I seemed to watching a montage of memory after memory, being healed in fast forward. Jesus came, and told her she was not dead, and He offered her new life. She took it.

I will have to share more about this as I find the time, but in the end, Juls was a new person. It was an incredible turn around, instantaneous healing. Before it was all over, Juls was baptised in a river by Jesus himself. I saw Him dunk her 12 year old form under the river’s flowing water, and when she arose, it was not her form I saw, but mine. Her memories are coming back to me now, but that is ok, I can handle them. And at long last, I am starting to understand some things that happened when I was her age. I am beginning to understand her, and with that, have a new understanding of myself; who I was, and who I am now, and even some of who I am supposed to be tomorrow.

If I could go back in time, and tell the 12 year old me what to do, I would tell her “you will live more than ten years, and you will learn to love life, because life is good. You will grow up strong and brave and our life will be blessed.”

Then I would tell her to find the prettiest leaf she could find, off the biggest and strongest tree possible, and call it the tree of righteousness. All because the Lord has now given her beauty for ashes, strength for fear, gladness for mourning, and a garment of praise instead of heaviness.

 

To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the Spirit of heaviness; that they might be called TREES OF RIGHTEOUSNESS, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.                            Isaiah 61:3