About Me

Thursday, June 30, 2016

YOU'RE CHARISMATIC AND YOU DID NOT KNOW IT!

Me Charismatic? Never!
Conservative is an accurate word to describe my beliefs.
The Lord used a Baptist Pastor to introduce me to Jesus Christ.

After I had married, I worshiped in a non-denominational church where people raised their hands.
 At that time, I believed that Charismatic meant speaking in tongues, raising your hands and jumping up and down.   In my eyes, they were not in control, after all,  God gave us a Spirit of self-control. I would never raise my hands. 
I learned, never say never.

 I heard the heartbeat of my thirteen-week-old child.  I had already had one miscarriage at ten weeks gestation, the sound of the heartbeat of my second child produced joy and hope.  
After the sonogram, I met a friend at the I-MAX theater.  During the movie, I felt queasy and dizzy.  I attributed it to the fact that the screen was so big, and I was not used to 3D movies.
 Stomach cramps would soon follow.  The next day, we said goodbye to another child.  
Depression returned, deeper and darker. 
Church no longer gave me joy.  How could I face my friends, especially those who were pregnant?  How could I tell them I lost yet another child.
My husband was on the praise team, and I was one of the leaders of the Women’s ministry, so I felt I had to attend church.
 During the second service,  A few Sundays after my child went to be with Jesus, I was waiting for my husband.  The worship team was almost done, and I was eager to get home and hide my head under my pillow.
I stood against the wall in the back of the church.  Thoughts of my unborn child along with unanswered questions consumed me.  
Why?  What could I have done better?   Am I too old to have a child?  
As tears streamed down my face, I listened to the music.  I found myself singing along.
My hands shot up into the air.
worship backgrounds for powerpoint | Worship PowerPoint Template I looked around to see if anyone noticed me. 
  Oh my! I am one of those charismatics’ now. (Tweet This)
 I did not care anymore.  The Holy Spirit threw my hands up in praise and worship. His love consumed me with such warmth and power my body could not contain the joy.
Darkness turned to light and my mourning turned into dancing.

Lift your hands in the sanctuary and praise the Lord Psalm  134:2

 Raising my hands was a manifestation of  freedom for me;
an intimate time of fellowship between my healer and me.

I never solely go by experience. The Bible is the source of truth,
God showed me in Scripture, that I had been wrong in my thinking.
 Did you know that the root word for charisma, in the original Greek language, means the gift or gifts given to a believer by the Holy Spirit of God upon salvation?
That word is charis or charisma.
 When we operate in our spiritual gift, we are being Charismatic.
 It has nothing to do with the raising of the hands or jumping up and down like I thought.

Romans 12:6 We have different gifts (charisma), according to the grace given us. If a man's gift (charisma) is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith.

1 Corinthians 1:7 Therefore you do not lack any spiritual gift (charisma) as you eagerly wait for our Lord Jesus Christ to be revealed.

1 Peter 4:10 Each one should use whatever gift (charisma) he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms.

Yes, I am Charismatic , however, it is not because I raise my hands.  
I Praise God for showing me my ignorance.  I am free to worship and use my gifts to bless the body of Christ.
Believers have at least one spiritual gift.
Do you know your gift, my charismatic friend? 



Find out about your Gifts.
http://www.spiritualgiftstest.com/test/adult

Thursday, June 23, 2016

WHEN YOUR NAME MEANS BROKEN

Chingaling, Laura, and Zola shouted as a glass vase crashed to the floor.  
 Saturdays were high dusting days for this mother and daughter team.
 They didn't see me as  I stood in the door of their white stucco home in Guinope, Honduras.  
I came to say goodbye.  It was time for me to return to Rhode Island.
I had been in Guinope for three months assisting Dr. Pearlita Marcy in the local medical clinic.   
The people of Guinope were now my friends.  We ate together, prayed together and laughed together.
When I first arrived in Guinope many people could not pronounce my name, Cherrilynn (Sherry Lynn) As hard as they tried they could not pronounce the "SH";  it always sounded like "CHI".    
My name became Chingaling. I grew to love it.
Unbeknownst to everyone in Guinope, my heart was broken.  
I was in a rocky relationship with a gentleman from the states. The relationship had ended, but I did not want to let go. 
Holding on seemed to be a pattern with me.
I could not leave my emotional baggage at the airport when I arrived; I dragged it everywhere I traveled.
 My wounds from childhood abuse screamed to be healed, and they would not stop just because I was in a foreign land.
 I was good at hiding all that brokenness,  fear, and depression.

The Lord was at work in this quiet mountainside village.
His loving hand desired to touch my wounds and mend them.
I had many long talks with God as I walked through the streets of Guinope. (emotional baggage in tow)
 God began to heal my broken heart. The weight of despair dissipated as I loosened my grip on the handle of my broken identity.

My friends turned to stare at the glass shattered on the floor.
Chingaling!   they repeated.
Are you that happy to see me? I said.
My sudden appearance startled them.
No, I mean yes, Laura said.
Then Laura and Zoila looked at each other with amusement and delight.
Chingaling they shouted and began to laugh a full belly laugh. 
I thought they were going to fall off their chairs.
What's so funny?
I began to laugh with them.
They stepped off the chairs, avoiding the glass.
Chingaling, Laura said as she pointed to the broken glass on the floor.  Laura spoke fluent English.
The Spanish word for the sound of glass as it crashes to the floor is Chingaling.
Laura and I cleaned up the glass.
As I swept the pieces of broken glass into the dustpan, the Holy Spirit impressed these words upon my heart.
Chingaling, I am sweeping up the broken pieces of your heart.  I will mend them together for my joy and purpose.
The Lord also reminded me of Scripture
 He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3 (tweet this)

That was 20 years ago.  God kept His promise. My heart's healed from the past abuse and my baggage gone. 
 I only remember a few Spanish words, but I will never forget my name, Chingaling. (I use it for my twitter handle)
Do you feel shattered, like there are too many broken pieces to repair?
God promises to bind the brokenhearted. Run into His loving arms for healing.
Heal me, O LORD, and I shall be healed;
save me, and I shall be saved,
for you are my praise.  Jeremiah 17:14



Friday, June 17, 2016

SMALL IS THE NEW BIG

My mouth would not stop bleeding. 
 I had a skin graft taken from the roof of my mouth and placed at the base of a tooth to prevent the loss of that tooth.  The initial surgery was not painful, just uncomfortable.  
The surgeon told me that it should heal quickly.  

At the time of surgery I was a new believer, I was learning how to pray; I did not pray for my mouth to heal. 

I thought it was too small and insignificant to God.  
He had bigger problems to solve, like world hunger.
It was time for my check up.  My report of increased pain, discomfort and bleeding worried the surgeon.
I don't know why you are not healing, are you doing everything I asked you to do?
Yes, I said.
A still small voice inside my head said,
Pray and ask Me to heal you.
 I left the dental office with an appointment to return in five days; I heard the voice again.
Pray and ask Me to heal you.
It couldn't be God; He had bigger concerns.
I headed to church for the prayer meeting.  I never missed it.  I love to intercede on the behalf of others.
As I sat in pain, blood at the corner of my mouth, I hesitated to ask for prayer, but the words echoed in my head,
Pray and ask me to heal you.
After we prayed for our country, missionaries and lost souls, I spoke.
My mouth has not healed from surgery; it's been over two weeks, and the surgeon is concerned.  It is such a small thing. I don't even want to ask for prayer, but it's getting worse.
I fixed my eyes on the floor in front of me.
Cherrilynn,  my pastor said, Your Heavenly Father is concerned about your mouth.  He wants you to come to Him with everything. Now go ahead, pray for yourself.

As I prayed the discomfort went away, and the bleeding subsided.
I returned to the surgeon.
Your mouth looks so much better, What did you do? 
I finally prayed.
Do you feel your situation is insignificant?
Join me and claim God's promise.

Because he bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath! Psalm 116:2 (Tweet this)




Thursday, June 9, 2016

GROUNDS FOR ADDICTION

I have something to confess.  
I have an addiction.   It began in the Navy.  
I was stuck with the overnight shift.     
 Sleep was an unwanted intruder.  If I allowed myself to doze, I would go to jail. (Rules of the Navy)
 I had to drink to stay awake. 
 Everyone else drank, so why not me?    
I hesitated.
   After a few nights of the fight to stay awake,   I had to succumb.   I turned to… COFFEE.  
That jolt of Java promised to keep me awake.  
That slap in the face from a dark brew kept me alert.   
I did not like the taste at first, but  I  stayed awake.   
Jail or Java?   Easy decision for me.  After a while, I began liking the taste.  I even longed to go to work to get a drink.   I confess, I am a coffeeholic.  It seems I cannot get my day started without it.I look forward to my morning Joe the night before.

K-Cups are my favorite.  Whoever invented the Keurig is my hero.  Hot coffee at my fingertips without having to make an entire pot. That is Genius!    I have tried going without my jolt of java, but I get a headache. 
 I know that is a sign of addiction.  I could quit, but I am addicted.  Turn to decaf, you say.  Why?  
I would still be a zombie with the lingering taste of coffee on my lips.  That is unfair.  
I know that I am not alone in this addiction.   Why it was some of you who encouraged me to drink!   Are we bad people for needing this wake-up call every morning?   I don’t think so.  Why there are shops created just for our addiction!  
 Places where we can meet with others just like us.   The heavenly aroma when I walk into…   Ahh.  But I digress. 
 I could go on and on about all different ways to make my morning motivator. 
 In fact, there is a name for those who have perfected the perfect cup.  All you coffeeholics, raise your cup and toast with me.  
Cheers to the Barista!   Now pour me another cup.
  One morning, I went to make myself a cup.  I had forty-five minutes to myself. I wanted to grab my cup and fellowship with God.   I long for that time, before the sun rises, to read the Word and sip my coffee.  I grabbed my cup from under the spout.   What?  An empty cup?   
 I forgot to put the water in the machine.   Now I have to do it all over again and wait.  
UGH!  My quiet time disintegrating because I did not follow proper Keurig procedure!  I made sure everything was set now.  K-cup in. Water added.  Cup under the spout.  Push the button.  Wait...      
I almost felt guilty… yes, I said “almost”…  for getting so excited to hear the last portion of paradise pour into my cup.  When it finished, I slowly put the cup up to my mouth,  Yes! A hot cup of pure joy.  
I tasted it.   UGH PSSFT PSSFT    What Happened? 
I almost woke my son with my outburst.   
Have you ever tasted lukewarm coffee?  YUCK!    More quiet time was gone and I had to wait for yet another cup.   I thought I made the coffee correctly.  Now I was upset.  How could I ruin my coffee twice?   It seems that the heating element needed to cool down before I put the water into Keurig the second time.   Silly me.   I did not want to waste the coffee, so I chugged it down.  Not satisfying at all.    
No one likes lukewarm anything.   Lukewarm is mediocre at best.  
When it comes to people, lukewarm means half-hearted.    God hates lukewarm.(tweet this)
So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth Revelation 3:16  
Like I spit my coffee out because it was tepid, God will spit out those who are half-hearted or lukewarm in their service to Him. 

In the book of Revelation, the Apostle John is given a word from the Lord to give to the seven churches in the province of Asia.   Laodicea was one of those churches.  Laodicea was known for its lukewarm water because it was located between the hot springs of Hierapolis and the pure water of Colossae.   Some scholars believe the metaphor for hot and cold came from Laodicea’s location.    The Laodicean people were criticized for their lack of zeal for the Lord.  
The English language refers to those that are neutral or indifferent in matters of faith as “Laodicean”.    
Wow! Not a good description for people God blesses with riches; not a good description for anyone.  
As I drink my hot cup of coffee and ponder the message to the Church of Laodicea, my prayer is that I will be on fire for the Lord, and not grow lukewarm by my lack of obedience.  I want to serve my God with a wholehearted devotion and a willing mind.  
God gave the lukewarm Church of Laodicea a warning and a promise.  

     Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent.  Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me. To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I was victorious and sat down with my Father on his throne.  Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. Revelation 3:19-22.
Each morning, while I do the proper Keurig procedures with zeal, may I be reminded to be even more zealous in my walk with Jesus.  Following the Holy Spirit's guidance.  Knowing that both will produce a fragrant aroma.
Will you join me?