Read My Big Bottom Blessing Online
Authors: Teasi Cannon
As I said earlier, our orphan ways sometimes die hard. Some of those bad boys have been beating us up for years, and they don't want to leave without a fight. But, if we want to make the truth of our biblical
position
become our actual
experience
, we must show up for the battle.
I'd like to tell you the “three easy ways to slay the orphan in you,” but they don't exist. This battle we face is really an individual journeyâone that must be made with the Mighty Counselor.
But there are things we can do. We can admit the orphan ways we see in our lives instead of ignoring them. We can turn our focus toward receiving the Father's love, which includes turning our focus away from what our earthly parents might have done wrong and letting them off the hook. And we can make a firm choice (one we declare to all who will hear) to live as daughters and not orphansâaccepting the full privilege, blessing, and inheritance that come from that position.
We can also ask God to forgive us for the sinful ways we've acted because of our orphan heart. That sin acts as a barrier keeping us from God, and we want to knock it down. The humility it takes to get that honest with ourselves and with God isn't for sissies.
Now, we can't do the big stuffâthe supernatural stuff that words fail to accurately explain. We can't bring sight to our blind eyes. We can't transform our thought processes and change deeply ingrained bad habits. We can't bring life into dead places in our hearts. But, the Holy Spirit canâ¦when we ask Him to, and then allow Him to.
King David understood this way back in the Old Testament. Look at his prayer in Psalm 51:10â12:
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and uphold me by Your generous Spirit.
The Holy Spirit does such wonderful work. The Bible calls Him the Helper (John 14:16â17); our life (Rom. 8:2, 10â11); the Spirit of truth (John 14:17); the Spirit of adoption (Rom. 8:15â16); and the Spirit of holiness (Rom. 1:3â4). He is all those things for us.
When the pain of our orphan thinking becomes great enough that we are willing to do whatever it takes, the Holy Spirit does His work. When we give Him full permission (He won't force Himself on us) to do what He doesârevealing truth, convicting of sin, comforting painâthings actually start to change. Bit by bit that orphan heart we've lived with for years is replaced by a new one: the heart of a daughter.
Oh Heavenly Father
,
Thank You for calling me Your daughterâfor loving me warts and all. Thank You for being a safe place for me and for giving me an eternal home.
I need to ask You to forgive me for all the years I've lived as an orphan even though You told me time and time again I was Your child. Please forgive me for having such a jealous and bitter heart, despising others for the blessings You were giving them. I was afraid nothing good was ever going to come to me. I see now that this is a lie, and I'm so sorry for believing it.
Please forgive me for all the years I worked to get the approval of people when all along You were longing to pour upon me more approval than I could have comprehended. I now accept my place at Your table as Your daughter, and I know Your plans for me are good. I know Your inheritance for me is good. I choose to believe the truth of Your Word about my life and the importance of it. I take my rightful position as a joint heir with Christ!
I love You
,
Your daughterâthe daughter of the King
a. ______________________________________________________________
b. ______________________________________________________________
c. ______________________________________________________________
a. ______________________________________________________________
b. ______________________________________________________________
c. ______________________________________________________________
Most of us have never considered ourselves orphans. I know I never didâthat is, until I saw all the orphan heart tendencies that were alive and well in my life. When I first saw all of this going on in me, I felt a bit disappointed in myself. But calling out the orphan heart in us isn't something to feel guilty about. It's really something to be excited about because there's a 100 percent effective remedy: taking our rightful place as children of God.
It's so important to remember that this “heart transplant” isn't accomplished by our own effort. We don't have to add anything to our religious “to do” list. We simply need to allow the Holy Spirit to reveal the truth about our identity as a daughterâto show us all that has been given to us and all that we have a right to. It really is like finding out a distant relative has left a huge inheritance for you in a safety deposit box. You've got the choice to receive the inheritance or not. Why would you want to deny it?
Pull dandelions until the sun goes down,
But unless you destroy the roots,
You will awaken once again to a garden of weeds.
Â
You may have heard this before, but I can't think of a better analogy to describe what happened in my life the day Father God took me even deeperâpainfully deeper into my own heart (a journey I could not have taken as an orphan). Here's the question: What should you get when you throw a very small pebble into a quiet pond? Very small ripples, of course. Well, one day that small pebble caused a tidal wave of emotion in my life.
The day was beautiful. It was sunny and warmâa perfect Saturday. The occasion: a baby shower. Around fifty women from my church had gathered to lavish a young expectant mother with gifts and to share words of blessing and advice. The food was great. The fellowship, sweet. All was going well until the pebble dropped.
The mother of the expectant mother called for a time of prayer. This is something the women of my church almost always do: pray for the delivery, the baby, and the new family life to come. Since the group was so large, the mother of the mother-to-be handpicked a few women to come forward. One by one she invited each elder's wife in attendance. She invited them allâ¦but me.
This dropped pebble didn't cause a ripple in me. It was more like a tidal wave. I couldn't believe what was happening. Neither could Sabby.
SABBY
:
How can she leave you out?
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
I don't know. I am an elder's wife too!
SABBY
:
Oh, my gosh, I feel so bad for you. Why would she do that to you?
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
I don't know. What is wrong with me?
SABBY
:
I don't really want to get into all that's wrong with you right now, but it's obvious that she doesn't like you very much. I guess your prayers aren't wanted.
Feelings of rejection rose in me faster thanâ¦well, pretty darn fast. I felt like I was going to throw up. A cold chill ran up and down my spine while hot tears sprang to my eyes. I thought I was going to have a meltdown.
Luckily for me every head was bowed and every eye was closed. The praying had begun. I sank as far back into a corner as I could and took several deep breaths as I tried to keep myself from yelping like a wounded cat. Tears kept trying to claw their way out of my eyes, as I dove deep within the recesses of my mind for some sort of rescueâperhaps a thought that would distract me, helping me to make it through these prayers with some composure. I needed something really good. Something funny would do the trick.
The thought I landed on was kind of funny, I guess. But it was mostly just plain gross.
I realize this may seem disturbing, but what I chose to meditate on while a sweet and holy moment was occurring on the other side of the room wasâ¦my dog sniffing a dead cow's backside. Now, before you judge me, I didn't
create
this thought. The scene actually happened earlier that very morning right outside my kitchen window. Living on a farm, visions such as this are quite common. I couldn't help it that this particular memory happened to come into my mind at just that (perfect) time.
As soon as the last amen was said, I put on the best fake smile I could and hugged anyone who happened to be standing in the way along my path to the door. I told the last woman I saw that I was so sorry I had to leave early, but that I had somewhere else to be. I nearly sprinted to my van, started it up, and peeled out of the gravel drivewayâtires spitting rocks at the family dog. Tears finally broke through the barricade I had put up and rushed down my face in rivers. I drove away from those women I had known for yearsâmentally shooting them the bird. (I knowâ¦I was bad.)
Home at last, I threw open my front doorâstartling my sweet husband who gave me the “What on earth happened to you?” lookâand ran as quickly as I could to my bedroom. I threw my purse on the floor, and I threw myself on the bed. Face down. Legs and arms sprawled out. And I cried. And I cried. And then I cried some more.
Then I let God have it.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
What is wrong with me? Why don't people like me? Why do I get hurt everywhere I go? Why did you make me this way? Why? Why?
When He could slip in a few words of His own, He answered.
FATHER GOD
:
Do you really want to know?
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Of course I want to know. I can't live like this anymore! I hate the way I feel.
FATHER GOD
:
Okay, then. Get quiet a minute and take My hand. I'm going to show you something.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Okay. What is it?
Into my mind came a childhood memory. I was seven or eight years old at the time. I was visiting my aunt in Florida, and even though I didn't want to stay without my mom, she left me there to play with my cousins. Not long after mom left, my aunt left for work, and we kids were entrusted to the care of my uncle.
“Time to play a game, kiddos,” Uncle said. “You know the one.” Oh, I knew the one, all right. I'd played it beforeâa type of hide-and-seek. Only we didn't hide. Our underwear did. Uncle watched as we slid off our panties, and then he'd go hide them. If we found them, we won and got to pick the next activity. If we lostâwell, he got to pick. And he always won.
He won that day, too, and the next thing I knew my little naked body was pushed to the floor, hands bound, rag shoved in my mouth, and innocence taken as tears streaked my little girl cheeks.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Oh, God, not this memory again.
FATHER GOD
:
Yes. Keep watching.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
But how could You let that happen to me? Wasn't I cute enough? Wasn't I sweet enough? Didn't my life matter at all?
FATHER GOD
:
Keep watching.
At that time a new character entered my memoryâone I never remembered seeing there before. He was ugly. He was dark. He walked up to my little body, knelt down on the floor so he could speak right into my ear, and he said, “You are trash, little girl. No one loves you. Your life isn't even worth protecting. Even your mom left you here.” Then he looked right into my eyes, smiled a grin that was pure evil, stood, and walked away.
Back on my bed more tears came.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
That was the devil, wasn't it? The devil was there?
FATHER GOD
:
That's right, sweet girl. He spoke lies right into your very soul that dayâlies you've believed ever since.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
I have? As a little girl, when I felt so much rejection, I was just believing the lie?
FATHER GOD
:
Yes.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
As a teenager, when I was desperate for boys to like me, no matter what it took, I was believing the lie?
FATHER GOD
:
Yes.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Every Sunday that I left church hurt because I wasn't included in this meeting or thatâI was believing the lie?
FATHER GOD
:
Yes. You believed the lies. Now, let me show you one more thing.
Back in that room where my little girl body lay, another new figure appeared in the scene. He sat in the corner of the room on the floor with His arms wrapped tightly around His knees. He was rocking back and forth in agony, tears streaming down His face as He looked straight into my eyes.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
It's Jesus, isn't it?
FATHER GOD
:
Yes. It is My Son.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
He was there?
FATHER GOD
:
Yes, He was.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Why didn't He get up and protect me? How could He just sit there like that?
FATHER GOD
:
He didn't just sit there. He got upâup on the Cross to protect you. He saved the deepest part of youâthe part that will never die. He protected the part of you that responds to My voice. His heart bled for youâMy heart bleeds for you. You are My beloved. Your life matters to Me.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
I seeâ¦but I still don't understand why He didn't stop my uncle from doing what he did. I thought Jesus could do anything He wanted.
FATHER GOD
:
Anything but take back the gift I gave at the beginning of timeâfree will. When I created human beings, I chose to give them freedom rather than make them robots despite the high cost to my heart. Your uncle perverted his free will.
Words fall very short of describing the kind of pain I was feeling after that encounter with God, but under the ache a very broken part of my heart was being mended. Seeing that vision of pure evil whispering into my little soul made me furious. And the fact that the enemy chose a moment when I was the most vulnerableâthe most afraidâto tell me such a crippling lie made me physically ill.
After years of living as an emotional basket case, truth was finding its way into the cracks in my heart. After years of being robbed of true friendship, healthy relationships, and peaceful living, I would take no more. No more feeling rejected at every turn. No more tidal waves.
When I look back now on that baby shower, I experience nothing but laughter. I can see that the only thing wrong that day was my deeply wounded heart. I know I was not intentionally left out. I know I was completely loved. What happened is the devil took advantage of a simple human oversight, knowing it would devastate me. He knew my weakness, and it's his job to attack every chance he gets. He does it to you too.
For many yearsâas a ChristianâI did not think of myself as wounded. As a matter of fact, I was quite averse to talking about issues that seemed in any way related to psychobabble. Although I wouldn't balk at simply coming to terms with one's past, I believed that was where it needed to end. After all, once a gal becomes a Christian and is made new, what need is there to navel gaze? What could possibly be gained from dredging up (and possibly even creating) old memories? What a waste of time.
And in addition to my own thoughts on the matter, I didn't think God wanted to dredge up the past either. His Son died on the Cross for our sins and our wounds, once and for all. Why would we want to bring up anything from the past after such a sacrifice had been made on our behalf? What a slap in the face it would be to Jesus if we should feel the need to revisit the days before we got saved. No way. Every good Christian knows that once you've come to Christ you are made new. No looking back. Enough said.
Wow.
Was I ever mistaken.
Try as we will to deny it, the truth is we're all wounded. No matter how much we attempt to convince ourselves that our very personal sinner's prayer did the trick, life has a way of proving otherwise. If the decision to follow Jesus in and of itself has the power to change so much in us, why is there still sin abounding in the church? Why do at least four out of ten
pastors
admit to viewing pornography on the Internet?
9
Because pain seeks pleasure, that's whyâand a lot of Christians are in perpetual pain.
Well, what about the part of the Bible that says we are new creatures in Christ once we are born again (2 Cor. 5:17)? Well, it is true. When we accept Jesus into our lives we assume a new position or status before God; the Holy Spirit comes to live in our spirit and a divine new beginning occurs (John 14:23; 1 Cor. 6:19). That is truth.
But, what about the other parts of us? Our body and soul? Are those made perfectly new at the altar? Someone would have to be in seriously deep denial to say yes to that. I don't think we have to look much further than the mirror to see the truth of this matter. Gray hair? Wrinkles? Noâ¦not perfected.
And what about our soulâthe area of our mind, will, and emotions? Is it perfected all at once? Just look at what you are experiencing in your life to answer that question. Depression, anger, jealousy, fear, anxiety, self-pity? If you feel any of theseâeverâyour soul is not perfected. And if we're not perfect, we're imperfect, and another word for that is
wounded.
In order to understand what an emotional wound is, we've got to recognize one important point. We all have emotional needs, just as we have physical needs.
If I go without getting one of my physical needs met for long enough, I become physically sick. And going without some physical needs long enough, such as water or food, leads to death. The same can be said of our emotional needs. When we go without getting one of them met, we become emotionally sick. A painful void is created, and we'll do nearly anything it takes to fill it.