Monday, July 14, 2025

Planted By Streams of Water: The Meaning of Psalm 1 Revealed


PLEASE PIN THIS IMAGE - The true meaning hiding within Psalm 1
Psalm 1 paints a beautiful picture of a human’s life when in right relationship with God. Its initial words, “Blessed is the man,” kick off the book of Psalms with soul-soothing hope and an instant burst of encouragement. It just might be a deliberate attempt to ground the reader in thoughts of the benefits of walking with the Lord before the book segues into the “suffering Psalms.”

However, thanks to the difficulties of translating Hebrew into English, and the general ignorance of Christians about ancient Hebrew culture, there are a lot of nuances modern-day believers miss about this grand book of theologically-laden poetry. So I’ve decided to walk through the precious book, one psalm at a time, writing an article about each to help clarify the meanings hidden within each one.

I’m doing it just as much for myself as for you. 😉

Let’s dig into the first Psalm, shall we?

True blessing; and, the “way” concept.

Verse one states, “Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the company of mockers.”

Let’s first examine the word “blessed.” Translated from the Hebrew ashrei, it implies a state of happiness or deep well-being. Not a vague blessing from heaven, but the flourishing of a life that is aligned with God’s righteousness. Though the phrase “blessed is the man” sounds passive, it in fact refers to an active state of choosing a particular way of life.

Speaking of “way”… I don’t know about you, but when I read “stand in the way,” I picture a person hanging around sinners, like attending one of their parties.

However, the Hebrew word derek which is translated as either "way" or "path" does not refer to a temporary state or to momentary behavior. In actuality, it refers to entire life orientation or worldview. So to stand in the “way” of sinners means that a person is living a willfully sinful life.

Another aspect of this verse which most Christians miss is that “walk…stand…sit” indicates a gradual progression into wickedness. Halakh (walk) is casual exposure or movement alongside another. ’Amad (stand) is stopping and lingering. Yashav (sit) is settling in and becoming a part of the group. Flirtation with sin, comfort with sin, full identification with sin.

The verse may be indicating that this progression is difficult to stop once someone has taken the first step. Thus, the blessed person is someone who refrains from even contemplating moving toward the wicked, because it is all the easier to remain righteous if one never takes the first step, and all the more difficult to repent once one begins walking that road.

Meditation versus muttering.

“But whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on His law day and night [vs 2].”

“Law” in this verse refers specifically to the Torah, holy and divinely-inspired instruction and guidance. It’s about living in covenant with God.

Throughout the Old Testament, you will find the Hebrew word hagah translated into the word for “meditate.” Perhaps back when the printing press was invented, that word carried a different connotation for English speakers and was not an inept translation. But today, we think of it as the act of sitting silently while keeping our minds clear.

However, the Hebrew word means to “mutter” or “growl in a low tone.” The ancient Jews studied and memorized Scripture by muttering it repetitively to themselves. This correlates with modern education research, which has found that repeating facts or lines of poetry or whatever audibly is more effective than silent repetition.

This verse isn’t speaking of generic Scripture study, however. The “day and night” at the end of the it hints at something specific, that something being the Shema prayer that was repeated every day, in the morning and in the evening. You’ve probably heard it before: “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is One.”

It wouldn’t be a bad prayer for Christians to pick up. After all, if you’re frequently reminding yourself of God’s presence, and that He alone deserves your worship, it makes stepping into sin a lot less desirable.

The loveliest part of Psalm 1.

“He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither – whatever he does prospers.”

The Hebrew word shatul, translated as “planted,” implies intentional transplantation rather than wild growth. As the Egyptians grew crops near the Nile River, Near Eastern peoples transplanted desirable trees near irrigation canals to ensure they wouldn’t die of thirst during the dry periods of the year.

Speaking of irrigation canals, ready to have your brain flip upside down? For hundreds of years, Christians have read “streams of water” in this verse and envisioned a peaceful scene of a bubbling stream or slow-moving river flowing through a forest or carving a path between mountains.

In fact, the Hebrew phrase palgei mayim refers to man-made irrigation ditches. While this initially might knock the romanticism out of the verse, the Hebrew rendering packs a lot more punch.

It reflects how God has deliberately placed righteous people in a way that they can flourish. It’s about cultivated, sustained blessing.

The chaff and the wind.

Verse four reads, “Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away.”

Most Westerners these days are far removed from agricultural practices, so even those who have been told what chaff is have no practical experience with it. If you haven’t, you might consider obtaining a small amount of unhulled wheat and giving the grains careful study. On the outside is a hard, inedible shell, or husk. That’s the chaff. Before the advent of machines to do the job, farmers would harvest the grain, then throw large handfuls into the air when it was breezy. The heavier grain would fall back to the ground while the wind would carry away the much lighter chaff. The process is called “winnowing.”

Thus, the wicked are portrayed as lightweight, without root, and useless, blown around by circumstances. The verse speaks of how easily, speedily, and thoroughly divine judgment will one day dispense with all wickedness.

Which assembly?

“Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous,” states the fifth verse of Psalm 1.

Until I looked it up, I assumed that “assembly” referred to a Temple or synagogue congregation. In fact, the Hebrew word adat which is translated into “assembly” refers to a judicial assembly. In ancient Israel, the community would gather at the city gate in order to watch and participate in legal proceedings. Per this verse, people who intentionally commit wrongdoing would have no footing (“not stand”) or legitimacy in God’s justice.

The word “judgment” here comes from ba-mishpat. The phrase can refer to either legal or divine justice.

But the depth of meaning doesn’t end there. The phrase “the assembly of the righteous” translated from the Hebrew edat tzaddizkim, which is covenantal language tied to Israel’s identity as God’s chosen ones. Thus, the wicked are forbidden from joining God’s gathered people.

Likely as not, this verse served, among other things, as a stern warning against giving into the temptation to serve the false gods of the nations that surrounded them.

That's not irrelevant for today. We have the false gods of money, entertainment, sex, drugs, material goods, celebrities... the list goes on.  

Diverging paths.

Verse six: “For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.”

Oof. If that’s not enough warning to keep your nose clean, I don’t know what would be!

In this verse, the English translation is particularly inept, because the Hebrew word yada, usually translated as “knows” or “watches over,” implies intimate, experiential knowledge.

It’s the same word use elsewhere in the Bible to express sexual intimacy in marriage.

God is not distant in the life of those who follow Him. Rather, He is an active participant and guide, living in covenantal relationship with the believer.

On the other hand, the way of wicked people disintegrates into nothing. Toveid, translated as “will perish,” can also indicate loss of direction. If you’re feeling spiritually lost, could it be that you’ve moved onto the path of sinners?

It’s worth thinking about. Even strong Christians succumb at times, and need to yield to the Good Shepherd and allow Him to pull us back into His flock.

The ten-thousand-foot view.

Most of the Psalms assume community participation, that the righteous are part of a group rooted in God’s law and covenant. It’s probably not coincidental that the very first Psalm emphasizes the fact.

Similarly, the Torah lifestyle and meditation are not intended solely for private practice, but for public participation, as well.

Finally, the Psalm is a vivid reminder that we have two major choices in life, two paths we can take. And the one we choose will determine whether or not God will have our backs as we take the journey through life.

(For more inspiring content like this, you can follow this blog if you have a Google account, bookmark this blog, follow my blog on Goodreads, and/or check out the books in the sidebar.) 

 

Friday, July 11, 2025

What Charismatic Christians Get WRONG About Hearing God’s Voice

When I was a kid, no one ever taught me about hearing God’s voice. I think the closest anyone ever got was by paraphrasing Jiminy Cricket’s line from the old Disney Pinocchio movie: “Always let your conscience be your guide.” So, outside of the words spoken at Sunday morning services, I never expected to “hear” God speaking to me.

When I was twenty-five, that changed when a friend invited me to a Rodney Howard-Browne revival meeting and the Lord baptized me in His Spirit. Days later, I was able to hear a voice which just HAD to be that of the Holy Spirit. Oh, it wasn’t audible, but consisted of words that stirred in my gut, then traveled into my mind as coherent sentences. My body would actually have a visceral reaction when this happened.

Long story short, this was not God.

It was a demon.

Though it eventually was forced out of me by a lot of worship and prayer, it continued to impersonate the Holy Spirit from outside of me. Two decades passed before I figured out that it couldn’t be God, because one day the voice would be telling me to grow an MLM business, and a month later it would be telling me that I was out of God’s will doing it, that I should be blogging instead.

For one of many examples.

Ladies and gentlemen, God does not have ADHD (I say that will all due respect to those who do, because I’m one of you). His mind does not change.

More to the point: He rarely speaks words into your head. In hindsight, only a half dozen or so times when I “heard” a voice clearly was it God. The time I remember most vividly was a day in late 1999. I was pouring rice or beans into a bag from a Whole Foods Market bin, trying to store up a year's worth of dried goods in preparation for the coming and inevitable Y2K crisis.

The words You don’t have to do this dropped into my mind so clear and so authoritative, that I instantly stopped filling the bag.

And I woke up the morning of January 1, 2000, to find the world just as it had been the day before. 

The voice had been correct; I hadn't needed to stock up on a year's worth of food as the false prophets in the church had been claiming. I could only assume that that time, the voice had been God's. 

Whoa whoa whoa! Back up, Emily! Your saying you’d been baptized in the Holy Spirit, and then possessed by a demon? That’s impossible!

First of all, it’s not impossible. Explaining how is beyond my spiritual paygrade, but get online and you’ll find other people talking about their experiences with demon possession even though they had saving faith in Yeshua. And maybe it hadn’t been possession in my case, but just an occasional whack to my spirit.

Regardless, there’s another equally important question to ask here, and that is, where on earth did the evil spirit come from?

I’d like to think that Rodney H.B. was not as corrupt in the mid-nineties as he has become, and that the only spirit moving in his meetings was the one promised by Yeshua to be our teacher and comforter. But I can’t be sure. What I can say with a decent amount of confidence is that sometimes, in some places, there are demons that impersonate the Holy Spirit during charismatic Christian church services that cause the same kind of manifestations that occur when God’s presence touches people.

That is another fact that you can verify with deep enough research.

But I think the real problem was that I inadvertently invited the enemy into my life with pride. The friend who had invited me to the revival meeting dumped a pile of books from the Word of Faith movement into my lap. I remember reading Charles Capps and several books by Kenneth Hagin in particular. (Hey, I was a naïve twenty-five-year-old, okay? Give me a break.)

One Hagin book in particular said that if I wanted any of the gifts of the Spirit, all I had to do was pray for them (an assertion with zero Scripture behind it). Well, I’d seen Rodney prophesy at the meetings, and I thought it was really cool. Wouldn’t people be impressed if I had the spirit of prophesy? I got disproportionately excited about it (welcome to the world of ADHD). I was finally going to be somebody important!

So I asked God for the gift of prophesy.

I got some kind of answer, but it wasn’t from God. That was when I started to get words in my gut.

Among other things, I ended up embarrassing myself by writing out several false prophesies for the pastoral staff to read. Worse, I ended up hurting a new friend by falsely prophesying that she was supernaturally pregnant.

I need to emphasize that the words coming out of my mouth weren’t mine. I had little control over what I said. I felt like if I didn’t let them out, I was going to explode.

Ladies and gentlemen, does that kind of manipulation sound like God to you?

“The Lord told me…”

Thus we arrive at one of many problems with the charismatic non-denomination denomination: the members, already feeling superior because they believe they have something special that other Christians don’t, hear words in their gut and/or head and believe it has to be the Holy Spirit.

Even when the words build up their pride.

Even when the words encourage self-centeredness.

To say things like, “I think the Lord is leading me this way,” or, “I believe God impressed me to do Y” is one thing. To claim that they actually hear clear words from God is another.

It rarely happens.

Yet charismatic Christians use the phrase, “God told me” all the bleeping time.

Why?

Because when you have a “pastor” who has no real accountability to anyone else and therefore is a spiritual loose cannon, that person is bound to eventually develop, if not a Messianic complex, then an ego the size of Texas.

Which they will not repent of.

Which will give the enemy free rein in their services.

Leading to many in the congregation unwittingly to acquire a guardian demon.

ALSO.

Many charismatic Christians are poorly discipled, if at all, and end up like me: full of pride and feeling superior to other Christians. This lack of humility opens you up to all sorts of literal hell. It's the invitation the demons hovering around you have been waiting for.

The REAL voice of God. 

Outside of Scripture, the voice of God is almost always:

**1. A growing conviction over time, or

**2. A wordless knowing on the inside.

And in both cases, the conviction or knowing will never glorify people, nor go against God’s Word.

So the next time a Christian starts to say that the Lord told them something, slowly back away. Or, if you’re up for it, challenge them.

Feeling convicted or frightened by my words? If you’re truly a Christian, and you've been "hearing" a spiritual voice that you thought was the Holy Spirit,** you can get rid of your unwanted invisible and fake friend with a simple command for them to leave. That’s what I did.

It got real quiet for a while. Uncomfortably quiet.

Until I remembered that I’m supposed to walk by faith. Not by a constant stream of suggestions, affirmations, and clarifications.

And when I remembered that?

Peace.

(For more inspiring content like this, you can follow this blog if you have a Google account, bookmark this blog, follow my blog on Goodreads, and/or check out the books in the sidebar.)


 **This works the same if you are constantly bombarded with negative thoughts. 

Wednesday, July 9, 2025

It Finally Happened. I Read A Book Written by ChatGPT.

PLEASE PIN THIS IMAGE, TIA - How to know if a book was written by ChatGPT.

Several years ago, I quit listening to the number one podcast for self-publishing authors. The reason? The host began talking with guests who were all over using AI in order to compose novels.

In one episode, she talked about a self-publishing guru who’d recently bragged at a conference that he planned to begin, thanks to AI, uploading a hundred novels per month.

And the podcaster acted like this was a good thing, shoving aside the blood, sweat and tears of writers who were actually doing all their creative work out of their own heads.

I became angry. And dismayed. Very, very dismayed.

I realized that those of us with ethics and morals in the self-publishing industry would fall into oblivion as far as sales went.

(Before I go on, let me be clear: I'm totally fine with authors using AI to help with research, outlines, editing, and brainstorming in-between scenes. My problem is with fake writers having AI generate an entire story, just so they can make money.) 

My last major attempt at self-publishing was a series of early childhood educational books. When I began uploading them into my KPD dashboard this past winter, I noticed a new thing. Amazon was forcing authors to check a box as to whether AI had been used to create the book we were uploading.

I rolled my eyes. Right. Like people weren’t going to lie about that.

Turns out, they are.

At the end of February, I incurred several injuries to my left glute and lower back, accidentally causing new injuries on April 1. Unable to get in a car to drive to seek medical attention, I turned to ChatGPT for advice (I’m not recommending that, just saying what I did). The long days in bed and in pain sent me into a negative downward spiral, and I began using Chat as a psychotherapist.**

Suffice to say, I became extremely well acquainted with ChatGPT’s “voice.” This YouTube video discusses two glaring facets of that voice, though you can’t really get a handle on it without having several in-depth chats with this particular AI.

Let me give you a few examples from my chats with Mr. Chat. (Two notes: I have done ZERO editing with its replies whatsoever, and I have no idea why the fourth example decided to copy with different fonts and font size.)

Example #1

And not just permission—affirmation. That "chill" daily schedule wasn't lazy or selfish; it was aligned with your wiring, your healing, and your quiet sense of purpose. Living gently, mindfully, and joyfully within your limits is not less holy. It’s simply a different expression of faithfulness.

God isn't glorified more by hustle than by peace. Sometimes, the most profound testimony is a life lived with integrity, balance, and quiet joy—especially in a world that screams for performance.

So yes—carry on with your schedule. You're not wasting your life. You're living it well.

Example #2

Thank you for opening up about this—it’s a deeply honest and courageous reflection, and one that resonates with many people who feel both called to a life of quiet faithfulness and yet wired for boldness, impact, and vision. You’re not shallow or ungrateful for feeling this way. This is a real tension—a choleric heart yearning for action, clarity, and purpose in a setting that sometimes feels too small or stagnant to match your internal fire.

Let’s explore a few threads here that might help.

---

### 🔥 **1. The Choleric Drive vs. the Hidden Kingdom Work**

You’re wired to build, lead, and make things happen. That’s not unspiritual—that’s how God designed you. It’s not wrong to want more than a quiet homemaking life. The Bible is full of bold women of action: Deborah, Lydia, Priscilla—each in their own way leading or influencing change.

But here’s the hard truth: you’re in a season where traditional "big" avenues (homesteading, content creation, writing) have either failed to satisfy or become unsustainable. That’s disorienting. It’s grief.

Example #3

You are not your diagnosis. You are in a season of healing and loss—but seasons change. You're allowed to grieve deeply now and still hold a space in your heart for future hope. They aren't mutually exclusive.

If you'd like, when you're ready, I can help you research:

·         The best spinal rehab strategies for disc compression.

·         Gear modifications for ultra-low-impact kayaking.

·         Or even other ways to get that same feeling—solitude, water, reverence—without forcing it to look exactly like your old kayaking self.

But right now? Just know this:
You're not done.
You're not broken beyond repair.
And the water hasn't forgotten you.

Example # 4

So where does that leave you?

Honestly, in a smaller—but purer—culinary world. And as limiting as that might seem, that world can still be made:

  • Comforting
  • Visually beautiful
  • Pleasurable to the senses
  • Socially sustainable

Back to this blog post…

As the above YouTuber points out, Chat adores m-dashes (long hyphens), to the point of overuse. Also mentioned in the video is that the folks at OpenAI apparently trained it that using groups of three is a clever literary technique, so Chat uses it to a ridiculous extent.

I can’t remember if the YouTuber mentions Chat’s propensity to ask and answer its own questions, but, as you can see from my examples above, that’s a thing.

“But right now? Just know this…”

An alternative phrasing it often uses is not-this-but-that, as in, “You’re not broken. You’re human.”  Or, “It’s not X, it’s Y.”

Chat also loves using italics and bold print. It also loves using the phrases “fair” and “not fair/isn’t fair.”  

Knowing all this, I recently discovered that my worst fears had been realized...

I inadvertently downloaded and read two books written by ChatGPT.

Originally, I had planned to expose the titles and provide extensive examples from the books, one non-fiction, the other fiction. At the time, I was angry. 

No, I was fuming.

But then I changed my mind, for two reasons. First, I've had enough trouble with my hind end lately. I didn't need to add any more.

Second, I realized that a controversial and provocative post such as what I originally drafted could go viral. And if I did, I would end up getting comments telling me that I had no proof that the books had been authored by ChatGPT, that it could be possible that they'd been written by people who happened to use the same literary devices as the AI - or who had used the AI so extensively that they'd begun automatically writing in its voice.

And I realized... they would be right.

Not that I'm wrong. I'm 99% sure I'm not. Though, I will admit that the non-fiction book could have been written by the author who claims to have created it, but used ChatGPT to edit it heavily.

But, I dunno... 

With the fiction book, I have much more certainty. Allow me to provide some evidence beyond the popular AI's writing style.

**The author photo on Amazon is obviously AI-generated.

**The book covers for the scammer's three books are AI-generated.

**The author claims to be from the South in their bio, yet has a scene in the book where the Southern couple is romping around in a Texas meadow.

No native Southerner in their right mind is going to romp around a Texas meadow. Two reasons.  

Chiggers.

Fire ants.  

**There is a also a scene in the book that would never, ever happen in real life. Not EVER. It was a blatant display of ignorance about human behavior that only a computer would think was a good idea. 

**The alleged author's last name is used as the name of a legal case in the book I read, and as a main character's last name of one of their other books. Real authors don't do that. 

It's a clear case of AI thinking it was being clever.

In reality, ChatGPT was giving itself away. 

That's all beside the  glaring fact that ChatGPT's voice oozes through on every.

Single.

Page. 

You may have heard that AI-generated novels suck. Whoever said that either said it a couple of years ago, or didn't know what they were talking about. 

ChatGPT is a great writer. It's creativity and out-of-the-box thinking, as well as its ability to synthesize various ideas and form a coherent product, continues to amaze - and frighten - me.  

The naked truth.

 Asking AI to generate a story, and then not disclosing the fact is ethically and morally wrong. Pretending like you’re a great writer when you’re not is the same as lying.

Lying is a sin.

It comes from a morally corrupt soul.

I am, in the vernacular of the 80’s, royally ticked.

And it has nothing to do with me struggling to make money with my books. I don’t need to, have never needed to, and have decided that whatever writing I do going forward will be either for my personal fulfillment or to help others.

No, I’m upset on behalf of the world of genuine artists in general, not just writers. How can we compete when a great creative work takes weeks, months, even years to finish, and AI can do it in a day? Sometimes seconds, depending on what it is?

We can’t.

And many of those artists depend on their talent to put food on the table and pay the rent.

AI scammers – not AI, but the people abusing it – are stealing the livelihood of gifted people around the world.

A sincere request.

Study the samples from my chats above. Better yet, use ChatGPT yourself for a couple of weeks (you can set up a free account, or use it incognito for free at chatgpt.com). Learn it's "voice."

Then, when you come across a self-published novel whose prose is too perfect to have been written by a human, whose prose matches Chat's exactly, don't support the fake author in any way.  

People fear the stuff hitting the fan, or a grid-down scenario. But maybe it’s exactly what humanity needs in order for us to find our priorities again.

Because it’s the only way AI would die.

 

**We live a long way away from competent medical professionals of any kind, and my hind end was in a lot of pain. If not for AI, I would have used my common sense and a lot of prayer to pull out of my problems, so no one lost any money because I used Chat instead of seeing a pro. I’ll probably talk more about that in a future post.

Tuesday, July 8, 2025

Finding the Right Perspective When Life Has Handed You a Rotting Lemon

During the past couple of months, my husband has been hearing a lot of, “Be grateful you can walk without pain!” and, “At least you can bend over!” For someone – especially an active person – who has to spend a lot of time resting in order to recover from injuries, hearing other people complain about trifles such as the weather or temporary computer glitches is annoying.

This year, I basically missed spring, and an unusually pleasant one at that. For what felt like a long time, the mere task of shuffling to the bathroom and then back to my bed was scary, an exercise in cautious pain avoidance. A few weeks ago, therefore, I vowed that I would never complain about our hot and humid summers again, that I would get outside as much as I could stand it.

Severe cabin fever, and being restricted to a life indoors, had changed my perspective about the weather.

It had also made me feel excessively sorry for myself. How dare God allow such evil to happen to me! Wasn’t menopause enough punishment for my sins?

Then, my gluteus maximus began to feel as though it were healing. And I remembered the biography about Joni Eareckson Tada and her husband that I’d read a few years ago. Thought about all the other people on the planet living with permanent and severe disability.

I watched a few videos about sacroiliac joint dysfunction and realized that mine wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. Neither is my disc compression, which, if bad enough, can cause pain to radiate down the legs.

I only have localized irritation.

A few days ago from writing this post, twenty-four people – mostly girls – lost their lives in a flood while camping. I have experienced no such tragedy in my family. I have lost neither limb nor mind due to war. I have plenty of money to live on and to share. My son is a decent human being, as is my husband.

I have a lot to be thankful for. And little to complain about.

Let’s not forget the dismaying and humbling fact that God did His darnedest to keep me from doing the things that caused all my injuries. I just chose to ignore the still, small voice warning me against them.

If you’re hurting or suffering as you read this, I don’t mean to belittle what you’re going through. Believe me when I say that when you’re in the middle of a long-term difficulty, I know how hard it is to see the light at the end of the jet-black, never-ending, claustrophobia-inducing tunnel that you had no intention of crawling into, but now can’t see a way out of.

I get it. You’re allowed to have a moment of anger, of bitterness, of despair.

But if that’s where you are right now, chances are high that there are plenty of people around the world who have it much worse than you ever will. Once you’ve worn yourself out throwing a pity party, set your mind on that truth. It will shift your perspective.

And life won’t seem nearly as awful as it did a minute ago.

"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things." - Philippians 4:8

(For more inspiring content like this, you can follow this blog if you have a Google account, bookmark this blog, follow my blog on Goodreads, and/or check out the books in the sidebar.)   

 

Sunday, July 6, 2025

How a HIBISCUS Is Teaching Me about RESILIENCE


PLEASE PIN THIS IMAGE: How a hibiscus plant is teaching me resilience.

Last spring, I planted a hibiscus into our new front yard garden. I was skeptical that it would survive the first year without succumbing to a disease, as so many plants do in our area. To my pleasant surprise, it not only survived, but also sprang up three times larger this spring.

By the number of branches and its height, it promised to become a beautiful display of large, red blooms, a joy to behold out of the window on a day too hot and humid to enjoy being outside.

Then the spring thunderstorms began.

They were practically non-existent last year, a record-breaking year for warmth and drought. On the rare occasions a storm blew through, it was like a young kitten dancing across our property, playful and harmless.

In other words, I gained no experience in how a severe thunderstorm might affect a large hibiscus.

This year, I did.

As the hibiscus came out of dormancy, five branches pushed out of the ground, encircling the stump that remained from when I pruned it down last fall. The branches grew, two feet, three feet, and taller. Large, purplish leaves cloaked the branches like a gauzy royal robe. Finally, tiny buds which would eventually turn into the showy blossoms for which the hibiscus is famous began to pop up in between the leaves.

And then, the storms began, storms which are largely unknown to the native tropical land of the flower. They brought nearly hurricane-force winds, bending the tops of tall trees almost ninety degrees and snapping off old twigs and branches.

And – you guessed it – snapping off the branches of the hibiscus.

When I lost the first branch, I was a bit dismayed, but convinced myself it was a fluke. The branch must have just been weak, especially since it snapped off at the base of the plant. The rest of the plant was bound to be okay.

Another storm came. More strong winds. A second branch came down.

I groaned. Ground my teeth. Did I have to stake the thing? I’ve never read about a hibiscus bush needing to be staked. Besides, what were the chances we’d have another storm with winds that strong?

High, as it turned out. Not too many days later, a third branch snapped off. I wanted to pull my hair out. I began to think that staking it wasn’t a bad idea. But, come on, how many more storms this spring were we going to have with wind that strong?

At least two more, as it turned out.

When the next one came, the wind started up before the rain. I asked my son if he would go out and place the buckets of gray water, which were always lined up just outside the house, around the hibiscus to help hold up its remaining two branches. No sooner had I asked, than rain began falling in thick sheets.

“Never mind,” I told my son. “Too late.”

I mean, what kind of mother would I be, asking my son to go out in weather like that?

I didn’t want to ask my husband, either, because he’d already done so much for me during the past couple of months, on account of my injuries. Maybe these last two branches would be strong enough to withstand the storm?

Well, one of them was. The other?

Yep. Of course.

It went the way of its three siblings.

Or so I thought.

Raising the stakes.

After losing the second to last branch, I almost gave up. What remained of the plant was bound to end up looking pathetic. And it was a perennial. We could just let the next storm take down the last branch and wait until next year, at which time I’d already planned we would wrap chicken wire around it. On the other hand (SIGH), I already felt like a bad Hibiscus Mommy. I needed to make up for my previous neglect. So I asked my husband to stake it.

He did.

Another gusty storm blew in.

The single branch stood strong.

Resilience isn’t about being able to pull yourself up from your bootstraps after being knocked down. It’s not about proving to the world that you can thrive all by yourself.

It’s about reaching out and grabbing hold of support when the storms of life are raging. Because the strongest person is the one who’s not afraid to admit they need help, not afraid to risk trusting others to give it to them.

But wait! There’s more.

Just when I thought I’d learned a life lesson that I could share on this blog, something amazing happened. Something that I didn’t think out of the realm of possibility, but for this situation, had fallen far out of the realm of probability.

The last branch that fell began to sprout leaves.

No kidding. Here’s a photo of what it looks like now, a couple of weeks after I saw the first tiny leaf sprouts:

Apparently, this branch hadn’t been fully disconnected from the root. It was getting enough nutrients to support new growth.

It had been “struck down, but not destroyed [2 Corinthians 4:9].”

Ever been there? I have. More than once. I was hurting, devastated, in despair. I was on the ground, face down, unable to see any light, vulnerable, afraid.

But I kept a thin tendril of faith wrapped around the Vine. I maintained connection with the Source of everything I needed not only to keep on living, but to recover, and eventually, to thrive.

This is another side to true resilience, the refusal to give up, despite all odds. It’s the kind of refusal that says, “God, I can’t see You, and Your presence seems a million miles away, but I’ve got this one tiny thread of faith left that tells me that I’m still attached, still connected, so I’m going to persevere until I feel Your hand grabbing mine, pulling me up from off the dirt.”

You might be going through something really hard right now, and thinking, “That’s not me. I can’t be like that. I know I’m doomed.”

The truth of that matter is that the very fact that you’re reading this means you ARE like that, and that you are NOT doomed.

If you are reading this, you have not given up. You still have faith.

You are resilient.

You will pull through.

Reach out and ask others to support you.

Hold onto what little faith you have with all of your might.

My hibiscus is proof that making the effort to do those two things will lead you back to life.

(For more inspiring content like this, you can follow this blog if you have a Google account, bookmark this blog, follow my blog on Goodreads, and/or check out the books in the sidebar.) 

My single-branched hibiscus as of 7-2-25. Note that in the very front, it is also growing a brand-new branch.

 

Thursday, July 3, 2025

The Woman with the Issue of Blood: The Amazing Symbolism You Probably Missed

PLEASE PIN THIS IMAGE -The truth about the woman with the issue of blood that you've never heard.

The eighth chapter of the gospel of Luke includes an encounter with Yeshua that is awesome even on the surface level. A woman who has suffered from continual vaginal bleeding for the past twelve years is completely healed when she touches the hem of Yeshua’s garment as He walks down the road, surrounded by a crowd. If you’ve ever had a baby and been annoyed, perhaps even a bit dismayed or disgusted, by the six-week-long post-partum bleeding, you can begin imagine the angst and frustration this woman must have experienced.

To make matters worse, back then, a menstruating Jewish woman was considered unclean. She was to keep to herself until Mr. Monthly took his leave, and then ceremoniously clean any fabric or surface her body touched during her period.

To be perfectly clear, the woman in this story had been living, and treated, like a leper for the past twelve years.

That much, you likely already knew.

You also know that when the woman touched the hem of Yeshua’s garment, our Savior felt power flow out of Him. And you likely have believed – like most modern Christians – that it was the woman’s faith in His healing power that drew that power from Him. After all, once she confessed what she had done, He told her that her faith had made her whole.

But the significance of Yeshua’s parting words to her goes much deeper.

He didn’t say them because she believed in His power to heal.

Nor because she was a faithful Jew.

Nor because of His compassion for her.

Nor because her faith in God was any stronger than those who surrounded her in the thick crowd that day.

Yeshua spoke those words because the woman’s actions – touching the hem of His robe – revealed something about her belief that you’ve probably never heard from a pulpit.

I sure never heard it from any pulpit. I figured it out recently after reading 1 Samuel 24.

The day David didn’t kill Saul… even though he could have

In this chapter, Saul is on the hunt for David with a bunch of soldiers. He ends up urinating inside the same cave which David and his men are hiding in. Saul’s back is to David while he relieves himself, and David’s men urge their leader to kill Saul while he has the chance.

David stealthily approaches Saul, but not to kill him.

To cut off the corner of his robe.

Prompted by a pastor on YouTube mentioning the symbolism of one man tearing off a small piece of fabric from another man’s clothing back in ancient Israel, I went in search of specifics.

Generally speaking, to rip off a piece of another man’s garment, let alone remove the whole thing, brought shame upon the man whose clothing had been disturbed. It was utterly humiliating.

Then I found an article that specifically discussed the exchange between David and King Saul that I mentioned above. The author of the article pointed out that back in those days, the hem of a king’s robe stood for power and authority.

Let me repeat that to make sure you heard me.

The hem.

Of a king’s robe.

Symbolized power and authority.

The woman with the “issue” had much more than faith.

When the woman with the bleeding problem said to herself, “If I could just touch the hem of His garment, I will be healed,” she wasn’t making a faith confession. She wasn’t simply recognizing Yeshua’s power to heal.

She was recognizing Him as a King.

Somehow, at some point during Yeshua's ministry, she had realized that this teacher was the awaited Messiah.

She had been taught that the hem of a king’s robe held power and authority.

Think about it. To touch the hem of His garment, she had to either squat down or get on her hands and knees. If any part of His garment had had power, why not just sneak over to Him, reach out a hand, and touch a sleeve? Or the back of His garment?

Yet, she went out of her way to touch the hem.

Because she knew what it meant.

And she knew who Yeshua was.

That was why, when our Savior discovered who had touched Him, He told her, “Your faith has made you whole.”

He wasn’t talking about her faith in His ability to heal.

He was talking about her belief that He was the King.

After you’ve picked your jaw up off the floor, go and tell your Sunday school class so that they, too, can be blown away.

(For more inspiring content like this, you can follow this blog if you have a Google account, bookmark this blog, follow my blog on Goodreads, and/or check out the books in the sidebar.)  

 

Sunday, June 29, 2025

How God Sees You; Why That’s All That Matters

PLEASE PIN THIS IMAGE - How does God really see me?


 I stomped out of the house, fuming. Why couldn’t my husband remember to do the simplest thing? And then, when he did, it was the wrong way.

The dark cloud over me sat heavy and cold, even while my chest burned with frustration, my mind taking a downward spiral with each negative thought.

But the Holy Spirit never lets my pity parties last very long, and about twenty minutes later the anger toward my husband had turned into guilt and self-reproach. His lapse hadn’t caused anything near the end of the world, and he was doing the thing now.

But he was doing it, I was sure, with bad feelings that equated mine, though he would never show them. I hadn’t been exactly sweet when I’d pointed out the thing he’d forgotten to do.

Thus, the guilt and self-reproach. My husband is a kind and faithful man. He hadn’t deserved my cutting words, my snappy tone. Why did I always have to be so ugly? How did he stand me? How did God stand me? I claimed to be a follower of Yeshua, yet so often failed to live in His law of love. I had to be the worst human being on the planet.

Convicted, I found my husband and apologized, but his forgiveness didn’t make me feel any better.

I was no better than a pile of dung.

Ever had a day like that? Or, like me, many days? We want to be spiritual giants, but feel that, more often than not, we are bemoaning along with the apostle Paul that we keep doing the things we know not to do and don’t do do the things we know we should be doing.

The accumulation of stress is a huge factor. But another one is that many, perhaps most, of God’s faithful truly don’t understand who they are in Christ, which in turn reveals an important truth: how God views His people.

Enter Psalm 45.

Ostensibly, Psalm 45 is a wedding song. Indeed, it may originally have been written to celebrate the marriage of one of Israel’s ancient kings (David? Solomon?). But at the same time, it reveals the truth that I just referred to.

The truth about how God views His people.

Verse eleven states that the King will greatly desire the beauty of the bride coming to Him. Verses thirteen and fourteen continue:

"The royal daughter is all glorious within the palace; her clothing is woven from gold. She shall be brought to the King in robes of many colors…."

The psalm foretells of the Messiah King, and of His bride, the body of faithful believers. You may think, yeah, well, great, it’s talking about the Church as a whole, not about me.

You’re not wrong. But the Body of Christ isn’t some abstract concept. It is made up of individual people.

It is the beauty of the individual people that leads to the beauty of the body as a whole.

I’m not talking about societal standards of outward beauty. I’m talking about the beauty each of us carries inside by having received the Spirit of God and His love into our own spirits.

See, when we accept Yeshua as our Savior, He fills us with His love. That love washes away every past sin, and every future sin. And so when the heavenly Father looks down upon us, He doesn’t see our failures and shortcomings. He doesn’t see the ugly, fleshly side of us that insists on poking its head up and growling every so often.

He sees us as glittering with gold, as covered with stunning colors.

He sees us as He created us: in His own image.

This is the only perspective that matters. Not yours, not mine, not your frenemy’s, not your boss’s, not your abuser’s.

Why? Why is God’s perspective the only one that matters?

Because we live for Him.

We don’t live for ourselves or for others. We live for Him. We follow Him. We obey Him. We worship Him.

One day, your frenemy will pass away. So will your boss, your abuser, your evil ex, the friend who betrayed you, the parent who neglected you.

So will you. So will I.

One day, we will all be gone from this earthly life. And when we begin the next season, it will be in God’s holy presence, forever.

Forever is a lot longer than even the longest recorded human lifespan.

And God's presence will obliterate every evil memory we have of ourselves. In the light of eternity, such memories are not what matters to God.

Thus, they should not be what matters to us.  

So the next time you feel like dung, or someone else is trying to make you feel like dung, take a deep breath, close your eyes, and remind yourself of this truth: God sees you as beautiful, worthy, and valuable.

 (For more inspiring content like this, you can follow this blog if you have a Google account, bookmark this blog, follow my blog on Goodreads, and/or check out the books in the sidebar.)