Tactical Retreat

Here’s a blog post I didn’t expect to be writing today.

I had a crisis of faith this week, and it’s still unfolding. I could do what preachers train us to do; I could pretend it didn’t happen, and I could keep grinning and staring straight ahead while using one foot to kick the fallout under the rug. I refuse to do those things. I’m going to tell the truth.

A few weeks back, I thought God told me he was bringing me a wife. I thought that was good news. Sex is not that big a deal, and having another responsibility is not exciting, but companionship (from the right person) is very helpful. Every Christian needs someone loyal to observe and assist. We all stumble. We all make mistakes. No Christian is on guard every minute of his life. It’s good to have someone close to you who can fill in the gaps and provide a second pair of eyes.

I thought God was telling me I would have Thanksgiving dinner with my wife. I had no other reason to think a woman was on the way. I didn’t have my eye on anyone. I saw no opportunities. I was making no effort whatsoever. All I had was this strange feeling that seemed to be from God.

When I prayed, I felt what I thought was faith, telling me, “Yes, this is really going to happen.” I got that over and over. I decided to go with it. I didn’t go on a diet or work out. I didn’t shop for a ring. But I decided not to reject it, and I also decided not to tell anyone or do anything at all to bring it about. If it was going to happen, it was going to have to be God’s project, not mine. I don’t want to talk about the specimens I’ve dredged up on my own. I didn’t want another one of those.

I asked God to send confirmation, and that never happened. The only confirmation I got was the faith I felt when I was in prayer.

I didn’t beg; I’m too old to be desperate or to get giddy over something like this.

During this time, I was awaiting the results of the presidential election. When I prayed about Trump and Hillary, I kept feeling faith that Trump would win. I’ve written about it. It seemed highly unlikely, but the faith kept coming. I got up on November 9 and saw the election results, and I believed it was confirmation that my faith was of God. It gave me strength to keep relying on it.

Yesterday I had Thanksgiving dinner with my dad. And no one else.

There is no way to rehabilitate the “prophetic” feeling I had. Christians have a long history of revising predictions after the fact. Some nut will say, “Jesus is coming back on Groundhog Day,” and then Groundhog Day will pass, and he’ll say, “Oops, I meant Valentine’s Day.” Then Valentine’s Day passes, and another revision issues. I am not getting onto that treadmill of denial. I’m telling you what happened.

I had a big boost on November 9, and I took a major hit on November 25. Now I have to reconcile them.

What’s happening here is like breaking a tooth, which, perhaps coincidentally, I did last Sunday. When a tooth breaks, you don’t put Mighty Putty on it and pretend it’s fine. It will fail you again, in a way that will bring you a lot more suffering. You have to have all the bad parts ground away, until you have a foundation which is completely reliable. Then you build it back up again with stronger material. I have to find the foundation. What’s true? What isn’t?

Certain things are unquestionably true. I had two visits from Jesus. I saw a demon very clearly. I saw another demon less clearly while receiving a miraculous healing. I’ve had other miraculous healings. I’ve had one vision (visions happen while you’re awake) that I can recall. I pray in tongues, and it brings me faith, understanding, inner change, and peace. I have had demons cast out of me. I have had countless prayers answered. I have learned a great deal about God, straight from the Holy Spirit.

That’s the foundation, on the good side. There is also an evil side.

“The world,” as we Christians call it, is disgusting and unacceptable. It is ruled by evil. I can’t go back to it. It will never accept me. It will never do anything but try to destroy me. Even if it accepted me, it would lead to my permanent destruction.

No one is more pitiable than someone who served God and then quit. When you serve God, you provoke the daylights out of a whole bunch of very powerful spirits. The spirits do not forget. When you stop serving God, you strip your armor off, drop all your weapons, jab nails in your eyes and ears, and walk naked into a torture chamber where you will be destroyed by your gloating enemies.

That’s not for me. I may be bad, but I’m not that stupid.

I have God’s help, whatever form it may take. I have nowhere else to turn. There are no other options; none. Turning away is not even on the table. Outside of God’s path, I can expect absolutely nothing except pain, defeat, and humiliation.

During my years of prayer in tongues, I started feeling a sensation when faith moved in me. It was a physical sensation in my head. I came to associate it with God. I thought it was from him. I didn’t always like it; it was distracting, and it made prayer a little laborious. Still, I thought it was the real thing. It’s what I felt when I prayed about Trump and asked God about the Thanksgiving presentiment. Now it looks like I have to get help distinguishing it from real faith.

No human being can help me with that.

As of now, I’m not indulging that sensation. I don’t give in to it and let it happen. I still feel things inside me when I pray, but the physical part is suppressed. I’m going to see how that plays out. I’m concerned, because I had gotten used to relying on what I felt, and now that’s gone. I’m not sure what to stand on. When I find out, I’ll let you know.

Sorry I don’t have more encouraging news, but I do have the truth, and that’s something. Hanging onto deception would be disastrous. The truth is a doorway to help and relief. Always.

Hope I have some positive things to say in the coming days.