The title of this thread is a tentative title in that I am open to hearing from any that believe that what I am about to share here is not of God.
But by all that is of Him in me...it is difficult for me to imagine this not being of God. To lift my head and bring me to a place of abundance in Him when I was so down.
I will try to keep this short if I can.
Anyway...a bit of background first.
One of the things that I have struggled with for many years is a feeling of complete failure.
And not just a feeling but also a reality in that I have failed at just about everything that you can imagine. My marriage failed. I failed to have any children. I failed in various business ventures. I have failed in various relationships of one kind or another. I have failed to make much of any money.
It's not just failures that might be seen as wordly but also spiritual. I have failed to find a church body to be involved deeply with. I have failed to overcome certain besetting sins in my life at least to the point where I no longer fall into them - though I would wish it otherwise. I have failed to express myself in ways that God can seemingly use to great affect. I have failed to be the person God created me to be.
I have failed in many, many things too many to list here.
One of my own sisters recently called me a looser.
I have cried in the past over feeling so incredibly unworthy in the Presence of God that I have not been able to fathom how it is that God graces me with His Presence and the blessing of relationship with Him through Jesus Christ.
Or gifts me to speak as it were for Him. To express what is on His heart to others.
I just can't fathom such a thing - with my head at least.
Last night I felt completely useless. I mean completely. Like I am unfit to live.
This morning I woke up that way after having had a dream that God would not give me an interpretation to but which meaning I would not come to see until after what happened next.
Anyway as I sat in my tent...oh I neglected to say that I am also homeless (I share that to drive home the point that whatever good I share comes from God not me)...all forlorn and feeling hard of heart over how useless I was...I began to talk to God.
Just a little. I wasn't much in the mood for talking even to God.
I was a bit hungry so I did what I usually do to keep ants at bay. I took out a couple of pieces of bread and put them squarely in the middle of a small stainless steel bowl I have so that any crumbs might be caught and not fall on the floor.
And I put my water flask next to the bowl.
As I was bringing the bowl and bread up to my mouth to start eating my breakfast (which was just the two slices of bread) I sensed God moving in my spirit in the way He seems to do.
Ever so gently laying a thought on my stone cold heart.
The bread. His body broken for me. Perhaps it was the combination of the bread and bowl - which looked a bit like a chalice. I don't know.
I stopped bringing the bread up to my mouth and stared at it. Pondering that.
The water in my flask. His blood shed for me.
I pondered that. My heart softened just a bit as I told the Lord that despite the wonder of what He did for me that such did not make me feel special since in truth He did that for one and all.
Gently the Holy Spirit impressed another thought on my heart.
I looked at that thought and began to wonder...and as I did it was like the floodgates of heaven opened and God came pouring through.
Wave after wave of emotion welled up within me. Torrents of tears poured out of my eyes. Spasms of emotion such that like in times past when this has happened I thought for sure that I would start speaking in tongues.
And what was that thought that so moved my heart?
Jesus died for me and I have been forgiven of ALL my sin. That is absolutely true and I live by that.
Jesus loves me this I know;
For the bible tells me so.
I know God loves me. There is absolutely no question of that. He moves me...often to tears by His wonderful love. The magnificence of His Presence awes me. The grace and mercy of His Person enriches me. Of all that I could imagine having in this world nothing but nothing equals the wonder of knowing God.
Knowing Him. In relationship to Him.
You see the bread and the cup drove me to realize that what matters in my relationship to Him as far as my feeling utterly useless is concerned is that He delights in me!
He delights in me NOT just because I obey Him. Not just because of what I do. But because I am His child by faith in Jesus.
He delights in me as an earthly father delights in His child. He shares my life. He loves it when I come to Him with my ouchees.
He delights in me showing Him what I have found.
He sent Jesus to die for me and all of us that we might have RELATIONSHIP with Him! Bringing Him pleasure by our fellowship.
That utterly broke my heart.
You see I may well have been a complete and utter failure to this point in my life. Perhaps you also have been.
But that does not make me useless!
I am useful, if in no other way, as someone with whom God can have fellowship with! I am absolutely unique. There is no other exactly like me.
And God's fellowship with me is uniquely intimate. It is between me and Him and no other. Just me and Him communing daily.
Just as it is with each of us.
I matter to God and am useful to Him!
That cannot be taken away from me by anyone EVER. That is a value placed on my life that lies squarely in the relationship that I have with Him and that will never be robbed from me by any hoarde of hell or man.
I cannot recall but perhaps two or three times in my childhood that my earthly father did anything at all with me.
He took me to a military parade when I was four. I remember some of that.
He went with me once to a scouting camp out.
And I remember him taking me to a specialist a few times when I cut a nerve in my finger.
Those are some of the only times I ever remember my dad doing anything with me. Sad.
I forgave and do forgive him for that. He did not really know better and was undoubtedly doing with me what was done to him.
But I never knew the delight of a father in his child. Perhaps that is why I grew up not wanting kids myself.
I always seemed to disappoint my dad.
Even close to death I was not able to meet his hope and expectations of me. When I went to the mother country to see him before he passed away...one of the last things he said to me before I left to never see him again was that his only wish was that I would return to the Catholic Church.
Something that I had to tell him that I could not do in good conscience toward my Father in heaven.
I kissed his forehead and after a little chit chat I left to come back to the States.
Such is the loss of my childhood.
But my Father in heaven saw fit this morning to open the eyes of my heart to the wonderful delight that He has in me as His child!
Through the couple of pieces of bread that I had in the bowl and some water.
For a while I could not bring myself to eat the bread. For it seemed like God's revelation to me had turned that bread into a holy thing. But the Lord reminded me that it was just bread and so, after reaching up toward heaven with my arms raised up as if to touch the great big face of my loving and heavenly Father, I began to eat the bread and drink the water.
I don't know many verses that talk of His delight in us apart from what we do.
In fact I don't know one.
But this revelation makes sense rather from all that I know of the delight of a father in a child or at least at how I imagine it to be.
There is so much more to this but I think I will leave it at that for what it is worth.
This post has been long and I have started yet another thread here but I do hope that you who read this will see through my bumbling ways to my heart and how grateful I am to know my Father in heaven.
Who watches me and blesses me and showers me with favor as with a shield. Who lifts my head when I am down and trains my hands for war. Who supports me when no one else does. Who never gives up on me. Who never stops believing in me. Who never believes the worst about me.
Who LOVES ME with an undying love that knows no bounds and that will reach out to me through every obstacle that He may find in or around me.
To Him be all the glory and the honor!
Carlos
PS. Oh my dream was of a flying fortress, an old style B-17 I think they use to call it coming in for a landing while one of it's engines was damaged in the fight and smoking.
It was like the Lord was telling me that yes, I have been wounded, but that Carlos, yes...me, is coming in for a landing and that things will be okay.
