I Don’t Believe It!

I recently read an article by Aphantasia Network entitled “John Green Aphantasia Discovery: Shining a Light on the Mind’s Eye.” It’s a fascinating article that I highly recommend.

In the article it appears, if I’m reading a particular quote correctly, that one aphant (One who has aphantasia) firmly believes that no one can truly visualize, seeing pictures or movies in their minds, that the problem must simply be an inability to properly communicate the way our brains work.

The bottom line being that, again if I’m reading the quote correctly, because he can’t see anything, has no visual imagination at all, then no one else does either. 

When I read that part of the article, I immediately thought back to a comment on one of my earliest Facebook posts in which an “expert” assured me that aphantasia isn’t real and of course I don’t have a permanent inability to vizualize. According to that person, I simply never trained my mind, and if I were willing to put forth the necessary effort I could develop my visual imagination. I didn’t even bother to respond to her because I knew she had no idea what she was talking about. Because she couldn’t see the condition, the condition didn’t exist; she didn’t believe in it.

After that memory asserted itself, I made a random connection. This is precisely the difference between those who have a relationship with God and those who don’t believe God exists. I have a relationship with God, and I know He exists just as surely as I know I’m a five on the aphantasia scale. Those who don’t know God can, and often do, refuse to believe He exists.

Whether or not I believe something doesn’t alter truth.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

The Trifecta – Lessons Learned

If you’ve heard my story before, stick with me anyway. Please.

My life, until shortly before I turned 19, was filled with worry. I cannot sufficiently express how completely the worry consumed me. It was so bad, so constant, that it felt normal. And then the pastor of the church God had led me to only months (weeks?) earlier had an altar call for those battling worry.

I was there. So were many others. We lined the altar, standing shoulder to shoulder. Pastor Ronnie started at the end to my right; he prayed for people and they went to sit down. Pray, return to seat. Pray, return to seat. Pray, return to seat. And then there was Tammy.

He stopped in front of me, met my eyes, and said, “Stay right here.”

WHAT?!

Maybe you can imagine how I felt standing there. Worry was obviously a factor. What?! Why?! What was he going to do? Why was I different? How long did I wait? I was so far beyond all kinds of awkward that I have pretty clear memories of those relative hours I spent watching more and more people be prayed for and return to their seats.

After what felt like a month, he came back to me. He was completely serious, and kind, and loving as he stood before this 18-year-old girl he was only just getting to know. We never discussed this moment later, so I don’t know what he was thinking, but I know for a fact that he understood two things.

1. He was aware that my issue was beyond normal worry, that there was a spirit of worry he’d have to deal with.

2. He knew that my brain would need extra help.

As he stood in front of me, he had me hold out my arms. Then he took off his suit jacket and laid it across them. Again looking me in the eyes, he said, “I want you to imagine a river of blood running at your feet. I’m going to pray for you, and when I finish you’re going to drop my jacket. Think of it as your worries and see them disappear under that blood. And realize you’ll have to reach through the blood to pick them up again.”

Now, it’s been over 40 years, so obviously that’s not an exact quote, but you get the idea. He prayed. I don’t remember what he prayed, though I’m sure part of it was dealing with that spirit of worry, then he said amen and I dropped the jacket. I was free. I knew something big had just happened.

And now to why I entitled this “The Trifecta.” Pastor Ronnie, like Moses, did his part. God, just as was true in Egypt, did His part; He delivered me out of bondage to worry. Now it was time for me to do my part, to get the worry out of me.

I look back and I am so grateful! In comparing my walk to that of the Jews entering the desert, I see how easily I could have returned to letting worry rule over me, to go back to sacrificing myself on its altar. I didn’t in part because a wise man of God knew that I needed a tool, something to remind me that in order to carry the worry again I had to reach through the blood of Jesus to pick it up.

Once the spirit of worry was dealt with, the choice was mine, and it was an every day, every hour choice that I had to actively make. It is a choice I still have to actively, consistently make. In fact, I wrote a post not long ago entitled, “Drop It,” where I shared the new tool God had given me to help me deal with worry as well as a few other things. The devil knows what worked on me before, so he often tries to work the same tactic again. (Remember this when God delivers you from any addiction.)

Jesus said something along the lines of, “Don’t be afraid,” 365 times, and worry is a form of fear. So yes, He is well aware that it’s something we all deal with and yes, He is telling us it is something we can control.

For me, I kind of think it’s like Paul’s thorn in the flesh. God never removed that thorn, whatever it was, but He gave Paul the grace to deal with it. “My grace is sufficient for you,” God said in 2nd Corinthians 12:9. In 2nd Corinthians 9:8 we are told that God can cause all grace to abound towards us so we have every sufficiency for every good work. He gives us what we need to overcome.

Now, I will step to the side a second and say this. Sometimes He gives us the tool called medicine. A couple of times in the past 13 or so years, I spent a few months on antidepressants, and for years I carried a bottle of anti-anxiety medication with me. My occasional need for the anti-anxiety meds ended shortly after my husband passed away (which kind of makes clearer the stress I lived under). I am grateful that I had the medical help I needed when I needed it.

So, to bring this web-bound book to a close, when we need big things in our lives, it’s a team effort. God must be in the mix, a minister or other faith-filled believer may be needed, and we will have to do our part. Our part involves walking by faith, and that faith will require us to make the right choices and do the right things.

The three working together? That’s powerful!

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

American Women: Ann H. Judson

ANN H. JUDSON

God has a bright example made of thee,
To show that womankind may be
Above that sex which her superior seems,
                                                           Cowley.

About the commencement of the present century, a new field was opened for the display of Christian heroism. The despairing wail of the pagan millions of the East, had reached the ears of a few of the most devoted people of God on these Western shores, and the question arisen, Who shall lead the way to heathen realms, who among us first encounter the perils of an attempt to plant the standard of the Cross beside the pagodas of Buddhism? He who would then go forth, must leave his native land with the parting benediction of but few friends; must be accompanied with few and faint prayers; must make his own path through the tiger-haunted jungles, and face alone the untried dangers of a dubious assault on the strongholds of pagan superstition. But, notwithstanding the discouragements inwoven with the contemplation of the undertaking, and the great peril that must attend its completion, it was magnanimous and sublime, and there were hearts in the land philanthropic enough to embark in it and brave enough to face its terrors without fainting.

Among the foremost Americans who offered their services in this work, were the Rev. Adoniram Judson and his wife. They embarked from Salem, Massachusetts, for Calcutta, with Samuel Newell and lady, on the nineteenth of February, 1812: and five days afterwards Messrs. Hall and Nott, with their wives, and Mr. Rice, sailed from Philadelphia for the same place. The names of these pioneer missionaries are sacred to the memory of all living Christians, and, being embodied in the history of the grandest enterprise of the age, are to be handed down to all future generations.

While all the female portion of this little band, exhibited many excellent traits of character, and worked well while their day lasted, no other one endured so many and so great hardships and trials, encountered such fearful perils, and had such an opportunity to test the strength of the higher virtues, as Mrs. Judson.

Ann Hasseltine was born at Bradford, in Essex county, Massachusetts, on the twenty-second day of December, 1789. She was an active and enthusiastic. child; of a gay disposition, yet thoughtful at times; and before she was seventeen, gave religion that attention which its importance demands.

She became acquainted with Mr. Judson in 1810. He was then a student in the Andover Theological Seminary, preparing for the work of foreign missions A mutual and strong attachment sprang up, and they were married in February, 1812, two weeks before their embarkation for India.

Mr. and Mrs. Judson first halted at Serampore. There, soon after their arrival, they were immersed by an English missionary, having changed their views of the ordinance of baptism on the long voyage across the Atlantic and Indian oceans. From that place they were soon driven by the Directors and Agents of the British East India Company, who were at that time opposed to the introduction of the Christian religion into those parts. They sailed from Madras for Rangoon, on the twenty-second of June, 1813, and settled at the latter place.

From the commencement of missionary toil, Mrs. Judson had many inconveniencies to encounter, but they were met with patience and served to strengthen that energy which, it will be seen, was afterwards so much needed and so strikingly displayed. Four or five years after settling at Rangoon, Mr. Judson went to Chittagong, in a neighboring province, to secure help, some Arracanese converts being there, who spoke the Burman language. He expected to return within three months. “At the expiration of this period, however, when his return was daily expected, a vessel from Chittagong arrived at Rangoon, bringing the distressing intelligence that neither he nor the vessel in which he had embarked had been heard of at that port. Similar tidings were also contained in letters which Mrs. Judson received from Bengal.

“While the missionaries were in this state of fearful suspense, an incident occurred which was well calculated to increase the perplexity and dismay in which they were plunged. Mr. Hough,* who had continued quietly studying the language at the mission house, was suddenly summoned to appear immediately at the court house, and it was rumored among the affrighted domestics and neighbors who followed the officers that came for Mr. Hough, that the king had issued a decree for the banishment of all the foreign teachers. It was late in the afternoon when he made his appearance before the despotic tribunal that was charged with the execution of the imperial decree, and he was merely required to give security for his appearance the following morning; when, as the unfeeling magistrates declared, ‘if he did not tell all the truth relative to his situation in the country, they would write with his heart’s blood. Mr. Hough was detained from day to day on the most flimsy pretences, himself unable to speak the language, and with no one near him who would attempt to explain his situation or vindicate his objects and his conduct. The viceroy whom Mr. and Mrs. Judson had known, had recently been recalled to Ava, and he who now held the reins of the government was a stranger, and, as his family were not with him, Mrs. Judson, according to the etiquette of the court, could not be admitted to his presence. The order which had led to the arrest was found to relate to some Portuguese priests whom the king had banished, and Mr. Hough was at first summoned to give assurance that he was not one of the number, and then detained by the officers in order to extort money for his ransom. He was at length released by order of the viceroy, to whom Mrs. Judson boldly carried the cause and presented a petition which she had caused her teacher to draw up for the purpose.

“The anxiety occasioned by this arrest and its train of petty annoyances, and still more by the protracted and mysterious absence of Mr. Judson, was at this time greatly increased by rumors which reached Rangoon, of an impending war between the English and the Burman governments. There were but few English vessels lying in the river, and the English traders who were in the country were closing their business and preparing to hasten away, at any new indications of hostilities that should be presented. The condition of the missionaries was rendered still more distressing by the ravages of the cholera, which now, for the first time made its appearance in Burmah, and was sending its terrors throughout the empire. The poor people of Rangoon fell in hundreds before its frightful progress. The dismal death-drum continually gave forth its warning sound as new names were added to the melancholy list of victims to the desolating malady. In these gloomy circumstances, they saw ship after ship leave the river, bearing away all the foreigners who were in the province, until at length the only one remaining was on the eve of sailing. Harassed with doubts concerning the uncertain fate of Mr. Judson, and surrounded with perils, they saw before them what appeared the last opportunity of leaving the country, before the threatened hostilities should begin, and they should be exposed to all the merciless cruelties of barbarian warfare.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hough decided to go on board and escape to Bengal, while escape was still in their power, and they urged Mrs. Judson to accompany them. She at length reluctantly yielded to their advice, and with a heart burdened with sorrows she embarked with her companions, on the fifth of July, in the only ship that remained to carry them from the country. The ship, however, was delayed for several days in the river, and was likely to be subjected to still further detention. Mrs. Judson, who had gone on board rather in obedience to the entreaties of her associates, and the dictates of prudence, than from the suggestions of that truer instinct which often serves to guide the noblest natures in great emergencies, now decided to leave the ship and return alone to the mission house, there to await either the return of her husband, or the confirmation of her worst fears respecting his fate. It was a noble exhibiton of heroic courage, and gave assurance of all the distinguished qualities which, at a later period and amid dangers still more appalling, shone with unfailing brightness around the character of this remarkable woman. The event justified her determination; and, within a week after her decision was taken, Mr. Judson arrived at Rangoon, having been driven from place to place by contrary winds and having entirely failed of the object for which he undertook the voyage.”**

In the summer of 1890, Mrs. Judson’s health had become so far undermined by the deleterious influences of the climate, that it was deemed necessary that she should go to Calcutta for medical advice, better physicians being located there than in Rangoon. She was so feeble that her husband was obliged to accompany her. She was soon removed to Serampore, where were eminently skillful physicians and a purer atmosphere. Her health so improved in six months that she returned with her husband to Rangoon. The malady which had afflicted her was the chronic liver complaint. It was not entirely removed at Serampore, and a few months after her return, it began to distress her more than ever. It was now thought that nothing but a visit to her native land could save her. Accordingly, on the twenty-first of August, 1891, she started for Calcutta, where, after some delay, she found a ship bound to England, by which route she returned, reaching New York on the twenty-fifth of September, 1822.

She remained in this country nine months, During that short period, aside from paying a visit to her relations, she attended the Triennial Convention at Washington, held in May, 1823; visited the larger cities North and South; attended numerous meetings of female associations; and prepared a history of the Burman mission which was so ably written that even the London Quarterly Review, and, if we mistake not, other English periodicals of high critical character, noticed it in commendatory terms.

The following extracts from letters written to Dr. Wayland while in this country, show the interest she took in the affairs of Burmah while absent from that land of her adoption. Under date of “Baltimore, January twenty-second, 1823,” she says, “I want the Baptists throughout the United States to feel, that Burmah must be converted through their instrumentality. They must do more than they have ever yet done. They must pray more, they must give more, and make greater efforts to prevent the Missionary flame from becoming extinct. Every Christian in the United States should feel as deeply impressed with the importance of making continual efforts for the salvation of the heathen, as though their conversion depended solely on himself. Every individual Christian should feel himself guilty if he has not done and does not continue to do all in his power for the spread of the gospel and the enlightening of the heathen world. But I need not write thus to you. You see, you feel the misery of the heathen world. Try to awaken Christians around you. Preach frequently on the subject of Missions. I have remarked it to be the case, when a minister feels much engaged for the heathen, his people generaly partake of his spirit.”

Writing from Washington in the following March she says, “I long to be in Rangoon, and am anxiously hoping to get away in the spring. Do make inquiries relative to the sailing of ships from Boston and Salem. I must not miss one good opportunity.”

With her health much improved though not fully restored, she sailed for her Burman home on the twenty-second of June, 1823, and reached Rangoon on the fifth of the following December. She found the work of the mission prospering. The next year, however, a war broke out between the Burman government and the English in Bengal, and, not only suspended the operations of the missionaries, but jeopardised their lives. They were supposed to be spies employed by the English government. Mr. and Mrs. Judson, with Dr. Price, another of the missionaries, were at that time at Ava, where the imperial government of the Burman Empire had just been removed.

“It was on the eighth of June, 1824, that a company of Burmans, headed by an officer, and attended by a ‘spotted-faced son of the prison,’ came to the mission house, and, in the presence of Mrs. Judson seized her husband and Dr. Price, and after binding them tight with cords, drove them away to the court house. From this place they were hurried, by order of the king, without examination, to a loathsome dungeon, known as ‘the death prison,’ where along with the other foreigners they were confined, each loaded with three pairs of fetters and fastened to a long pole, so as to be incapable of moving. Meanwhile, Mrs. Judson was shut up in her house, deprived of her furniture and of most of her articles of property, and watched for several days by an unfeeling guard, to whose rapacious extortions and brutal annoyances she was constantly exposed, without being able to make any exertion for the liberation of the prisoners, or the mitigation of their cruel sentence. She however, at length succeeded in addressing a petition to the governor of the city, who had the prisoners in charge. By a present of one hundred dollars to his subordinate officer, their condition was somewhat meliorated, and by the unwearied perseverance of Mrs. Judson, and her affecting appeals to the sympathies of the governor, he was induced to grant her occasional permission to go to the prison, and at length to build for herself a bamboo shed in the prison yard, where she took up her abode, in order that she might prepare food for the prisoners, and otherwise minister to their necessities.

“At the end of nine months they were suddenly removed from Ava to Amarapura, and thence to a wretched place several miles beyond, called Oung-pen-la, where it was arranged that they should be put to death in presence of the pakah-woon, as a kind of sacrifice in honor of his taking command of a new army of fifty thousand men about to march against the English. This sanguinary chief had been raised from a low condition to the rank of woongyee; but in the height of his power, just as he was about to march at the head of the army he had mustered, he fell into disgrace, was charged with treason, and executed, at an hour’s notice, with the unqualified approbation of all classes of people at Ava. His timely execution saved the missionaries from the fate which hung over them, and they were left uncared for in the miserable cells of Oung-pen-la, till the near approach of the English to the capitol induced the king to send for Mr. Judson, to accompany the embassy that was about to start for the English camp, for the purpose of averting the destruction that now threatened the Golden City.

“During this period of a year and a half Mrs. Judson followed them from prison to prison, beneath the darkness of night and the burning sun of noon-day, bearing in her arms her infant daughter, – the child of sorrow and misfortune, who was born after the imprisonment of its father, – procuring for them food which Burman policy never supplies to prisoners, and perpetually interceding for them with their successive keepers, with the governor of the city, with the kinsmen of the monarch, and the members of the royal household. More than once the queen’s brother gave orders that they should be privately put to death; but such was the influence which Mrs. Judson possessed over the mind of the governor, that he evaded the order each time it was given, and assured her that for her sake he would not execute her husband, even though he was obliged to execute all the others. And when at last they were to be taken from his jurisdiction and driven to the horid prison-house of Oung-pen-la, at the command of the pakah-woon, the old man humanely summoned Mrs. Judson from the prison where he had permitted her to go and sit with her husband, in order that she might be spared the pangs of a separation which he had not the power to prevent. Her own pen has traced, in lines that will never be forgotten by those who read them, the affecting history of the dismal days and nights of her husband’s captivity. We follow her alike with admiration and the deepest sympathy as she takes her solitary way from Ava, at first in a boat upon the river, and then in a Burman cart, in search of the unknown place to which the prisoners have been carried. At length, overcome with fatigue, with exposure, and the bitter pangs of, hope deferred, we see her in a comfortless cabin, prostrate with disease and brought to the very gates of death, -while her infant is carried about the village by its father in the hours of his occasional liberation, to be nourished by such Burman mothers as might have compassion on its helpless necessities.

“Such is a single scene from this melancholy record of missionary suffering. History has not recorded: poetry itself has seldom portrayed, a more affecting exhibition of Christian fortitude, of female heroism, and all the noble and generous qualities which constitute the dignity and glory of woman. In the midst of sickness and danger, and every calamity which can crush the human heart, she presented a character equal to the sternest trial, and an address and fertility of resources which gave her an ascendency over the minds of her most cruel enemies, and alone saved the missionaries and their fellow captives from the terrible doom which constantly awaited them. Day after day and amid the lonely hours of night was she employed in conciliating the favor of their keepers, and in devising plans for their release, or the alleviation of their captivity. Sometimes, she confesses, her thoughts would wander for a brief interval to America and the beloved friends of her better days; ‘but for nearly a year and a half, so entirely engrossed was every thought with present scenes and sufferings, that she seldom reflected on a single occurrence of her former life, or recollected that she had a friend in existence out of Ava.’ “***

When peace was declared between the two powers, by the terms of negotiation, the European prisoners were all released; and thus closed the long and brutal incarceration of the missionaries. Mr. and Mrs. Judson immediately departed for Rangoon. They soon removed to Amherst, a new town on the Salwen or Martaban river. After having established a mission there, Mr. Judson had occasion to visit Ava. He started on the fifth of July, 1826, leaving his wife and infant daughter in the care of kind friends. He was detained at the Capital longer than he had anticipated; and before he returned he received the painful intelligence that his wife was dead. “A remittent fever had settled on her constitution, already enfeebled by suffering and disease, and she died on the twenty-fourth of October, 1826, amid the universal sorrow, alike of the English residents at Amherst and of the native Christians who had gathered around her at her new home. Her infant daughter died a few weeks afterwards, and side by side they were laid to rest, under a large hopia tree a few rods from the house where she had resided. Two marble stones, procured by the contributions of several female friends in her native land, are the humble memorial that marks the spot where sleeps one whose “name will be remembered in the churches of Burmah, in future times, when the pagodas of Gaudama shall have fallen; when the spires of Christian temples shall gleam along the waters of the Irrawaddy and the Salwen: and when the ‘Golden City’ shall have lifted up her gates to let the King of Glory in.”

* Mr Elough was a printer in the employment of the Baptist Board

AUTHOR.

** Gammell’s History of American Baptist Missions

*** Gammell

______

Excerpted from Noble Deeds of American Women
(Patriotic Series for Boys and Girls)
Edited by J. Clement
——
With an Introduction by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney
Illustrated
BOSTON: Lee and Shepard, Publishers
Entered by Act of Congress, in the year of 1851,
by E. H. Derby and Co., in the Clerk’s Office of the Northern District of New York
______

Can You Imagine?

In February, I posted “I Can’t Imagine,” in which I shared my recent revelation that I have aphantasia and the rest of you don’t. Quick explanation: I have zero visual imagination. When I learned that most of you can not only see pictures but also movies in your heads I was floored.

This revelation has led to many conversations in various forums, and one thing has been consistent. Those who can see and experience everything that I’ve never known are genuinely sorry for me that I’m missing out on so much. Now, in reality, I don’t know what I’m missing. Do I kind of wish I could get in on the game? Sometimes, yeah, but I know it’s impossible and I tend to not waste my time on impossibilities.

There is one thing. If I do have a vision while in prayer or worship, if I find myself seeing something in my mind in similar fashion to what I’m guessing you all see, I know without a doubt that it’s from God because my imagination can’t create it. I don’t get these visions often, but now that I know what’s what I can have no doubts whatsoever about their origin, and that’s seriously cool.

Which brings me to a thought. If you’re a Christian, when I talk about my walk with God you can relate on at least some level. We both have the capability, as it were, to “see.”

If, on the other hand, you’ve never had a relationship with God, you’re like me in a sense. You can’t imagine the wonder and joy of having a relationship with Him because, like me with aphantasia, you’re blind to the possibility. And let me tell you, as much as those who have visual imaginations feel sorry for those of us who don’t, their feelings can’t touch what I feel for those who don’t have a relationship with God.

Listen, please. Unlike me, you don’t have to stay in the dark. You can reach out and accept the salvation that Jesus offers and enter into God’s very presence, learning how to walk closely with Him and know what it’s like to live inside His love and grace. I literally would not trade my relationship with God for anything – ANYTHING. I cannot express strongly enough what you are missing if you’re not walking with Him. Nothing compares, and knowing that this life is just the beginning, that I have eternity in His presence to look forward to… It’s wonderfully overwhelming just to think about.

So I encourage you to step out. Come to Jesus and accept what He did for you. He came and lived a sinless life specifically so that He would qualify as the perfect and final sacrifice. The blood of the lambs the Jews sacrificed covered their sins temporarily. When you accept the blood of Jesus that was shed on the cross, that blood washes your sin away completely, and God never thinks about it again. This, the removal of that sin, opens the door for you to enter into a relationship like none you’ve ever known. Honestly, you cannot imagine what will happen when you take that step; it’s beyond human ability to predict.

If you’re ready to accept Jesus as your Savior and Lord, it’s easy. Primarily, it’s about what’s in your heart, that you’ve decided to repent of your sins (meaning to turn your back on them and walk away) and accept His sacrifice, trusting His work on the cross to save you. Open your mouth and pray, talk to Him. There is no official “Sinner’s Prayer” that you have to seek out. It’s as simple as saying something like, “Lord, I know I’m a sinner, and I know that I cannot pay the price for my own sins. I need a Savior. I need You, the One who lived without sin and then let Himself be crucified for me. I accept Your sacrifice on the cross as payment for my sins, and I invite you to come live in my heart, to fill me with Your love and be the Lord of my life. I choose to spend the rest of my days, the rest of eternity, living for You, and I ask You to lead me, to help me become who You want me to be. Amen.”

And then do what you’ve promised; learn to become more like Him. In Luke 6:46, Jesus says, “And why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?” You’ve asked Him to be your Savior and Lord, so get into the Word of God (the Bible) and find out what He wants you to do. Get in a Bible-believing church, one where the minister actually preaches from the Bible (Sad, that I have to say that, but many ministers today don’t.), and learn from the man of God. Pray! That may sound intimidating, but think of it as talking to God on the phone without a phone. Seriously, when I’m praying, I’m real with my Creator…and He is real with me. Yes, He talks to me too! I spend most of my prayer time listening…or try to.

I promise you: While accepting Jesus in no way guarantees an easy life (On the contrary, the devil doesn’t like losing!), having Him by your side makes all the difference in the world…and more. I don’t have to imagine it; I live it daily. I hope you will choose to as well.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

If you want some help getting into the Bible, you may want to check out my book, Experiencing the Bible. It’s available in paperback, ebook, and audiobook, and it’s a practical answer to the question, “What do you mean, ‘Get into the Bible’?” It’s available in all formats on Amazon. The ebook can also be found at various retailers including Smashwords.com (where you can literally set your own price – even free).

Pray for Manasseh

Photo shows excerpt from Awaken, by Priscilla Shirer, published by B&H Publishing

You can always tell God is trying to get your attention about something when He keeps bringing it up. This very thing happened to me recently: I was reading Psalm 103 late one evening, and then Day 34 in Priscilla Shirer’s Awaken the next morning, really just a few hours later.

She was talking about Manasseh, who ranks right up there among the most despicable kings Judah ever had. He was, to put it mildly, a hopeless case, and it is safe to say he had a lot to do with Judah earning time in exile. He was exiled too, of course, and 2 Chronicles 33:11 shares that, “They put a ring through his nose, bound him in bronze chains, and led him away to Babylon.”

But then something amazing happened. Remember, this was a truly evil king: “Manasseh also murdered many innocent people until Jerusalem was filled from one end to the other with innocent blood. This was in addition to the sin that he caused the people of Judah to commit, leading them to do evil in the LORD’s sight.” (2 Kings 21:16) Even so, something happened and, while in exile, he woke up to his sin.

“But while in deep distress, Manasseh sought the LORD his God and sincerely humbled himself before the God of his ancestors.” (2 Chron. 33:12)

It took exile and being “in deep distress” for the change to occur, but it turns out Manasseh wasn’t a hopeless case after all. He humbly repented, turned his life around completely (which is what repentance is all about), and not only did God forgive him but He also returned this formerly evil king to his kingdom. Why? The answer is found in Psalm 103:8-11.

The LORD is compassionate and merciful,
slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love.
He will not constantly accuse us,
nor remain angry forever.
He does not punish us for all our sins;
he does not deal harshly with us, as we deserve.
For his unfailing love toward those who fear him
is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth.

So, on Day 34 of Awaken, Priscilla references Psalm 103:8-11. In this devotion, she covers how limitless God’s mercy is, that it’s never too late and you’re never too far gone for God to restore you – just like He did Manasseh (2 Chron. 33). 

No matter what you have done, no matter how evil you have been, you are never too far gone for God to restore you if you will only humble yourself, fall on His mercy, and repent – turning your life around and your back on sin. Jesus came specifically to die for our sins: Yours won’t stand between you and Him unless you let them.

Most of my readers are Christians and hopefully already understand the magnitude of God’s grace and mercy, how willingly He gave His Son Jesus as a sacrifice for even the worst of sinners. So, it’s time to take this knowledge and carry it even further.

How many times, especially if you live in the south, have you heard it said of a horrible person, “He needs Jesus!” Usually, this is more of a culturally-based sentiment than a spiritually-based declaration, but it is true. We all need Jesus, including the most evil person you know. Further, if that evil person doesn’t receive Jesus, he or she will spend eternity in Hell.

So, I’m here to offer us a challenge. Let’s choose to genuinely walk in the love of the Lord, following Jesus’ example. I propose that we each select one person, just one, who seems unredeemable, and commit to pray for them until God tells us to stop. More to the point, ask God who He would have that one person be. You may not like His choice, but if He asks anything of you, He has a purpose.

Because prayer is unimaginably powerful. It is, truly, one of the most mind blowing weapons in our arsenal, and it can accomplish amazing things. Honestly, usually those things, those changes, are revealed first in us. For instance, as we pray for another person, often we find ourselves letting go of unforgiveness (even unforgiveness we didn’t know we were holding onto) and growing in compassion, mercy, and the love of God. This is a massive step forward for us even if we never personally see a change in the other.

But what if there is a change? What if your Manasseh repents and becomes a whole new man? What if he starts living his life differently? What if he ends up in Heaven instead of Hell? I trust that you wouldn’t really wish an eternity in Hell on even the most evil person you know. The positive changes in him could be as far reaching as Manasseh’s changes, affecting untold numbers of people for years down the road.

You would have had a part in it, and that part’s only cost is humbling yourself and praying for someone who doesn’t deserve it – any more than you deserved it when Jesus accepted you.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

Scriptures used are in the New Living Translation (NLT)

My Salvation Story

It was a warm summer afternoon at Camp Tomahawk (somewhere in Texas) and our bunch of teen girls was gathered in the open-air chapel for service. I’d been in my share of church services and Acteens meetings, so plenty of seeds had been planted, but on this day a man of God presented the Gospel and plan of salvation in a way that made everything come together for me.

Before that day, I’d known about Jesus and all He’d done for me, but on that day, in that moment, I came to the realization that HE did it all for ME, and something was required of me – a simple something. I had to choose to accept what He’d done, to accept Him, so I went to the altar where I prayed a prayer. Walking back to my seat, I could tell something incomprehensibly huge had happened, because my counselor was ugly crying. It was beautiful.

This flashback came to me today as I was reading Mark 10. Jesus says in verse 15 that we have to receive the Kingdom of God like a child, and that’s exactly what I did. The offer was made. I could see it was a good offer. I accepted the offer. (God said it. I did it. That settled it.)

I’ve heard many beautiful salvation stories, and I love them, but I love ones like mine too. There are many types of “children” in the world. Some are boisterous and excitable, some break into tears, some can’t stop talking about this amazing thing that has happened, and some of us walk calmly back to our seats simply knowing in our inmost being that everything has changed whether we feel it or not.

God had a plan from the beginning – from before the Beginning. He knew ahead of time that man would blow it, sin would take over, and a blood sacrifice would be required to redeem the very man He was preparing to create. So, before Day 1, He and Jesus planned for Jesus to sacrifice Himself. (Rev. 13:8)

To this day, I cannot comprehend God asking His only Son to do it. I can’t even grasp His Son loving the coming world of sinners enough that He would agree. Yet He did.

They waited ages until the timing was just right. Jesus came as a child, grew, entered the ministry, taught thousands of people who wanted to listen without having to hear (among others who definitely heard, of course, but still…), and then intentionally let Himself be crucified even though He dreaded it so much that He begged God, in those last moments, to find another way. His emotional turmoil was so great that He shed blood in the garden before ever being taken prisoner. (Luke 22:44)

But when all was said and done, death and the devil lost as Jesus entered into Hell, set those captives free, then rose again to lead us all into freedom as well.

I say us. I hope it’s us. If you’re not one of us, please come! It’s so simple a child can do it. Just accept Him and what He did for you! Tell Him you get it. You know He came to earth so that He could live the perfect, sinless life and, as that sinless sacrifice, pay for the sins you could never pay for on your own. With His own blood, He paid the price to buy you back from the devil. Acknowledge that, and willingly give yourself to Him.

I guarantee that, if you truly give your life to Him, life will never be the same. Will it be easy? Not a chance. Not only do bad things happen to everyone, but there is also the reality that once you leave the devil’s camp and enter God’s camp you’ll have a target on your back. Fact, the devil already hates you because you are made in God’s image; this will make him hate you more than ever. The key, though, is that from the day you accept Jesus and start walking with God, you will never walk alone.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

A Different Kind of New Year’s Post

I listen to the clock ticking, and it is a comforting sound. Why?

Silence.

For the first time in many years, the house is silent – no 24-7 TV, no…

Well, I had something else in mind when I wrote the first sentence. I wasn’t at all going to head in this direction, but it’s time. It’s the end of the year for the rest of the world, but the end of an era for me…and I’m ready to shed some things. Maybe, hopefully, my story will encourage others.

Long story a little shorter, I spent decades married to a narcissist. I was in denial most of the time, and though it never really felt right I accepted it as my inevitable normal.

Mind you, there were times in his life (definitely in the last few weeks) when he was right with God, or so I believe. It’s hard to tell because narcissists have a gift for looking like awesome people from the outside. Their spouses and children, though… they pay the price. All things – every, single, thing – revolve around the desires of the narcissist, and they are only “generous” and “thoughtful” when others are looking on and can be impressed. Pretty much nothing matters but them and their happiness. Oh, and anything that goes wrong is inevitably someone else’s fault.

So, if you know the story of my husband’s disabilities, you can imagine how hard the last several years have been. He lost the tight control he’d always held, so he worked even harder in other areas like emotional manipulation and what I’ll call “practical punishment” – such things as trashing the house any time I wasn’t at home. Because, well, his situation was my fault.

There have been good moments. I know there have been, but they are so overshadowed by years of…everything from emotional abuse and infidelity to threats of self-harm, yelling, and ridiculous accusations that those memories are not readily accessible – and I’m not inclined to go digging.

He passed away 3 months ago tomorrow, and every single day of those three months I’ve thanked God for giving me the chance to live the life man is supposed to live. The word for my life right now is “Freedom.”

I’ve survived…no, thanks to God I’ve thrived through over thirty years of pretty much every kind of abuse but physical abuse. With God’s promise of forever, I’ve been able to face each day knowing that “this too shall pass.” Speaking honestly here, it did not kill me; it made me stronger.

The joy of the Lord – both the joy He has given me as I’ve focused on seeking Him through the years and His joy in me – has been my strength. My faith is where it is not in spite of, but because of the battles I’ve fought.

And now?

Now my home is silent enough that I hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. Today, I know continual peace even in the midst of new-widowhood challenges. Today, I know happiness on a level I’ve not seen since I was a child. As one confused friend recently expressed it to my sister, I glow.

So I’m leaving 2022 with a great sense of gratitude, and looking to 2023 with a special kind of hope and expectation.

I’m listening to the clock on the wall with a smile on my face.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

To our friends who thought you knew Jack, I’m sorry you had to learn this. I’ve spent three months letting most people think I’m just relieved not to be the primary caregiver of a very ill person…and I’ve felt like a hypocrite. I’m tired of hiding behind the lies of our life together.

Focus on Forever

Art by Amanda Kelly

At my request, a friend created this custom artwork for my new office. I’d been thinking about how I wanted the office decorated and the ONLY thing I knew was that I wanted one constant reminder.

“Forever” is my absolute favorite word in the whole world because it reflects God’s amazing promise: His children get to spend forever with Him! It is also a reminder that everything I face today is temporary. No matter how challenging life gets, and oh my Lord but it does get challenging, I know that a thousand years from now today’s troubles will be meaningless in almost every way.

I say almost, because how we respond to today’s challenges will definitely matter a thousand years from now; our actions today work together to determine who we will be tomorrow. When I stay focused on forever, focused on Him instead of the trials and tribulations that sometimes seem to pile on top of each other, I’m much more likely to get it right.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C

The Power of a Seed

A seed has an innate command to grow and, all things being equal, when it is planted it will obey that command. I’ve been thanking God for that fact this morning.

I’ve always thought I was raised serving God, but in reality I wasn’t, or not like one might think. When I was very young, we were in church, and seeds were planted. Then, for maybe a year or so while I was in junior high, we were in church again and more seeds were planted. And where regular church attendance is concerned that was it.

But seeds were still being planted. They may have been few, during conversations with my parents and grandparents, during that one week spent in Vacation Bible School, during Sunday morning Christian cartoons…. But they were being planted, and they grew, and they bore fruit, and I am where I am today.

So today I’ve been thanking God for each and every one of those seeds that were planted in my life. I’ve also been thanking Him for those seeds I’ve had the honor of planting in others’ lives.

Maybe I only managed to get one seed in the ground, one word about the love of God settled into someone’s heart during a brief conversation. I’ve been reminded today that even that one word can be enough.

Never discount the power of the words you get to plant as you speak into others’ lives, the power of your actions as you show God’s love. Even one seed can produce much fruit.

Celebrating Jesus!
Tammy C