Sunday, November 22, 2009

Thoughts on "Good Morning, Holy Spirit"

When my boyfriend said he would send me a book to help me learn more and better my relationship with the Holy Spirit, I was all for that. After reading The Shack, I realized how little I interacted with the Spirit of God as an actual person. It took me back to a memory where I aced an exam on the Holy Spirit in Sys Theo, but when later that week I tried to explain the Holy Spirit to a random Muslim guy on the train, I was totally tongue-tied. Fail.
So yeah… Anything that could help me see the Holy Spirit as a true person sounded good to me.
…Was a little less excited when I received the book and saw the author was Benny Hinn.

I was first introduced to Benny Hinn in high school by some Christian friends who didn’t agree with his ministry at all. He was our running joke – you know, someone coughs, another person smacks his forehead, and the cougher falls out and shakes, everyone laughs. I was into my heavy apologetics studies those days, and everything I looked up on him placed him into the “apostate” “false prophet or “misguided pastor, poor baby” category. I was comfortable with that.

I was a little less comfortable after I read this book… Because this isn’t the writing I would expect of a prosperity preaching, false prophet.

…It’s actually pretty Biblically sound.

I read of his conversion experience from Greek Orthodoxy with a smidgen of Roman Catholicism to a vibrant faith. He talked about how the Holy Spirit is very God, and he spent a couple of chapters underlining His distinction from the Father and Son, and His unbreakable unity with Them. He even gave a couple cool Trinitarian metaphors that I’ve tucked away for later use (My favorite was the sun: The Father is the actual mass, the Son the light, and the Spirit the heat – I thought that was cool) He spoke of grieving the Spirit, being filled, dying to self…

He didn’t even push speaking in tongues and healing as a must for everyone filled of the Spirit.

Huh.

So, I’m walking away from reading this book not quite sure what to think of dear Benny. He’s certainly made some false predictions, and his use of money is deplorable, but I don’t quite feel comfortable writing him off as a scheming unbeliever anymore.

Well, enough of my Hinn musings. What of my relationship to the Holy Spirit?

I honestly felt discouraged most of the time while reading… I’ve never experienced the electrifying encounters with the Spirit described in the book. “What’s wrong with me?” I kept thinking at the close of each chapter.

Then I was confronted with this question “Are you seeking an electrifying experience or are you seeking Me? Is it a feeling you’re after, or fellowship?” Was I still reducing the Spirit to something rather than seeing Him as Someone?

Did I just want to “experience” the Holy Spirit as a person so I could know Him as He’s meant to be known, or did I just want to feel like a good, mature Christian?

…Did I just want a quick-fix formula on how to hear His voice?

Guilty on all counts.

But not left without hope. Because even now, I realize I am thinking of the Holy Spirit more as this person, this real, living person who interacts with me all the time (whether I realize it or not). The other night I was walking home from work and the thought hit me, “The Spirit… Is in relationship with me.” He wants me to hear His voice, He wants to fill me.

And my sin actually affects Him. It’s not a matter of offending an indignant far-away Deity. It’s a matter of wounding this Friend who loves me.

I’m going through my days realizing more that the Holy Spirit is truly with me, empowering me to live in Him each day.

Maybe I won’t have the spine-tingling, hours of weeping, slain in the Spirit experiences promised to the faithful seeker presented… But I definitely am well on my way to deeper intimacy.

And I think that’s what I need right now more than anything.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

He Wrote Love on His Arms

Sweet silver blades
Are the things of my daydreams
Shattered glass and sighs
Music to my soul
Though I've never
Taken the plunge
To see my own crimson
Painted on steel
To abstain has taken
Every ounce of my will
Not even my own will
Because honestly
I wouldn't be breathing
If it were up to me
Behind the facade of strength
Is one who's trembling and weak
Ah, but therein lays the
Beauty
In my gray and ashes
And fantasies of steel
Is the red-tipped paintbrush
Painting all - but by His will
He colors me scarlet and crimson
He covers me in the deepest of reds
Painted by the blood of the Lamb
Who was cut by
Rough Rusted Nails
Rough Rusted Nails
Are the things of my hopes
"It is finished" with a sigh -
The song of healing for my soul
Help me take the plunge
To see
How Christ wrote love on His arms
To draw me to Himself for
Eternity