How Does One Feed?

I remember it so clearly.  My legs were crossed and I was perched on my college dorm twin bed.  The Word was tastier than any textbook I could get my hands on.  All the sudden, the words jumped off the page..."Feed my sheep."  I knew it was a word to last a lifetime.  The Spirit spoke into my soul that it was my true purpose.

But, what was I to do with it?

I later invested four years of my college and early married days devoted to a group of high school girls.  I saw no fruit.  It was the most disheartening experience.  Satan whispered that I had no favor with these girls and that I shouldn't waste my time trying to teach them the Word.

I poured truth into my sister, very much His beloved sheep, when she was in the depths of despair.  I wrote her letter after letter of what God was revealing to me.  I bought her book after book, praying the information might set her free.  I prayed more times than I can count.

This time, Satan didn't just whisper.  After Kiley denied the breath that God had breathed into her, the Accuser shouted that I have no favor with God or with man and that I shouldn't waste my time.

It is where the Enemy pushes my buttons.  It is where he strips me bare and leaves me on the bloody battlefield.  Funny how I am just now seeing that it is linked to my personal commission.  God tells me to feed his sheep...the ones he has redeemed and need something meatier than milk.  I feed, I see no results, I listen to the Enemy and I quickly throw in the towel.

All the sudden, my purpose is traded in for lies that say I am not worth anything.  Lies that torment my heart into believing that it isn't heard and that it has nothing to offer.

When will I stop listening?

My Mom told me I have something to offer.  That I should cast aside fear and just say what God is telling me to say.

Shouldn't I listen to my Mom?

I remember another day all too well.  It was perhaps the happiest I have ever been in my soul.  Fear and past failure told me I shouldn't be there, but I went anyway.  Rear end on hard concrete, soapy water sloshed all around, I washed feet.  Peering up into beautiful young eyes, full of promise and in need of grace, I told them they were worth dying for.  I whispered in boldness that despite the enemy's tactics of throwing them in the pit, God had been merciful in yanking them out of the slimy mess and giving them a firm place to stand.  I commissioned them to remember His goodness.

My heart sloshed forth joy like the basin that couldn't contain its soapiness.

I remember a day just last week.  A long-overdue lunch with a friend was finally realized over salsa and birthday gifts.  Concerned with the righteousness of her household, I told her how God had been teaching me to pray.  Ask that the true wheat/the glory of God that has weight would fall on the threshing floor to remain and that the chaff/everything that doesn't point to His glory would blow away in the wind.

As I climbed into my van, my heart spilled forth joy into every crevice...

Isn't our mission what brings us the most joy?

Isn't it where Satan will attack the hardest?  The sneakiest?  With partial lies?

My purpose, my true joy was reaffirmed last night and again today.  My friend looked me in the eyes and said it so simply, and yet in a way I had never thought about.  "You have the gift of mercy.  You enjoy the one-on-one encounters because you want to speak into the specific heart of a single person, not the general hearts of many."

Today, I savored one verse:  "Feed the flock that is among you..." 1 Peter 5:2a  Those words echo so clearly what God spoke over me while a mere sophomore in college.

"Here's my concern, that you care for God's flock with all the diligence of a shepherd.  Not because you have to, but because you want to please God.  Not calculating what you can get out of it, but acting spontaneously.  Not bossily telling others what to do, but tenderly showing them the way."  1 Peter 5:2-3 The Message

It has been my heart's cry for a very long time:  that believers, the sheep, walk in freedom, love God's word, and know their true position in Christ.

I don't know what this calling, this calling of feeding looks like in my life.  It may be as spontaneous as speaking truth over someone during lunch or God may give it a form that I have never even thought of.  How does one feed?

Will you please say a prayer over me...that I would be faithful to this purpose...whatever it looks like...and that I will refuse to believe the enemy's lies?  Pray that God would whisper how He wants me to feed...

thank you...I love you a bushel and a peck