SHOULDERS #65 ---- 4/12/99
Posted by: lifeunlimited <lifeunlimited@...>
As We fight The Good Fight
SHOULDER TO SHOULDER #65
TITLE: "Have You A Word From God? (part 9) ----He Lifted Me" (Psalm 3:3)
Oh, b-r-o-t-h-e-r-! I can't believe it! Why didn't I see those
grammatical errors before I sent the letter????
" . . . . though he because my closest confidant . . ." He BeCAUSE????
Try "became"!
" . . . . it turned out to be a training coming the other direction. A
trainING???? Well, come to think of it, maybe it was. (But I thought it
was a "train".)
God sure has His ways of keeping me in my place. But, I guess when
you're finishing up at 11:30 at night after preaching three times in an
eighteen hour day that began with a time change that stole one of my
hours, it's to be expected.
I do have a great spelling check program; now all I need is a word check
---- or maybe a brain check.
Greetings, my fellow yoke-man (yoke-person, to be PC).
God is a great God ---- and greatly to be praised.
All around us here in the Midwest of America there is the evidence of new
life ---- flowering Crab Apple, flowering Pear, Wild Cherry, Redbud,
Dogwood, Forsythia ---- all coming into majestic bloom like the blended
sound of a symphony in color, while the Daffodils, Tulips, Grape
Hyacinth, Creeping Phlox, and dozens of other plants edge the beauty of
the deep green grass with spackles of rainbow colors.
Then sweep the horizon with brilliant blue skies, dot them with billowy
white clouds, and watch it all turn into a thousand shades of pink,
yellow, orange, red, and purple in response to the rising and setting of
the sun.
Finally, set it all to music with the chirps of the Robin and Cardinal,
the feisty bantering of the Chickadee and the Nut Hatch, and the enticing
beckon of the Gold Finch, all undergirded by the distant call of a cow to
her new born calf.
Friday afternoon I actually saw my first Hummingbird ---- in mid April,
no less. It was as silent as a moth, not much more than an inch in
length, darting from one deep pink bloom to the next on the Creeping
Phlox. To top it off, a Monarch butterfly went floating by my car window
as I drove out of the driveway just before dusk.
What a time to be alive! Our God is an awesome God.
And that's only what He does with nature. It doesn't compare with what
He does to the human heart given over to His touch.
Perhaps one reason it all seems so incredible to me is because of how it
reminds me of my own soul. The wintry days which sometimes seemed so
dark, cold, and lifeless, always gave way to the resurrection of life in
abundance ---- all at just the right time.
My "Rhema" letter I share with you today is an adapted rewrite of my
fourth Shoulder to Shoulder letter, originally written January 26, 1998.
The reason I share it with you again is because it really is the story of
what happened to me in what has been, up to today at least, the fourth
major time of "distress" when God enlarged me, as I wrote last week.
I hope you don't mind my sharing it again. I could not do a better job
of writing about that experience, and there are many who have never seen
this letter.
So ---- here it is again, with some modification.
THE WOUNDED SOLDIER:
I have one of the most profound paintings in the world. It is a "one of
a kind"; there is no other exactly like it. I have had it since the
Summer of 1993. Everytime I view it, it brings a flood of emotions to my
heart. Often tears of gratitude well up in my eyes, and indescribable
thanks is formed in my mind toward the person who gave it to me.
I wish you could see it for yourself. I pray my attempt to describe it
will be graphic enough that you can see it in the imagery of your own
mind.
It is the picture of a soldier recently wounded in battle. He is lying
there gasping for breath, his uniform covered with mud and blood. His
weapon lies some distance away, beyond his clawing fingers, the chamber
empty, and spent shell casings scattered all around.
Hand grenade pins dot the muddy ground amidst distorted skidding boot
prints and bullet pock marks. Shattered tree limbs hang dangling from
battle scarred trunks of once majestic displays of nature's grandeur.
In the shadows of the background you see more faces. Some are obviously
faces of the enemy. Others are clearly those of comrades in arms. Still
others are hard to discern as to whether they are friend or foe.
It leads you to wonder whether or not this brave fighter was possibly
downed by "friendly" fire.
THE RESCUER:
The most significant character in the picture, however, is the uniformed
image kneeling over the wounded warrior and cradling his anguished head
in his own hands. This servant on his knees is ministering care and
encouragement to the injured man. Can he be saved? ---- or is it too
late?
The battle casualty seems to wonder the same thing ---- you can see it in
his eyes.
The artist has made this painting come alive with intriguing details ----
such as the medal of honor already draped around the fallen soldier's
neck. Its empty box lies amidst the crimson gauze and bandages sinking
into the mire.
It is obvious that this award was far too precious to wait to be
bestowed during a visit to the White House ---- and of infinitely far
greater value. As the soldier gazes down at the medal on his chest,
tears can be seen welling up in his eyes and trickling down his cheeks.
It is evident, as well, that the fallen soldier cannot wait another
minute for the reward due him.
You wonder just what he is thinking.
The body of the unidentified man on his knees uniquely forms a protective
shield from the glare of explosions and the fallout of debris cascading
around the two men of battle.
It is difficult to determine just who this hero might be. At first
glance, it seems his uniform and equipment would indicate he is a Medic.
The satchel of medical supplies and the unmistakable cross on his arm
band would indicate that.
Another look, however, would also detect weapons for battle ---- much
more than the simple side arm a Medic might carry for his own defense.
It is obvious that this man is also a man of war, fully equipped to be a
victor and not a victim.
His chest is covered with ribbons and medals of previous hard fought
victories. The bandoleers draped over his shoulders are still filled
with munitions enough to assure great casualty on the enemy, should they
attack again.
Still a third look will reveal a startling discovery ---- an insignia on
the shoulder and on the helmet make it immediately clear that this hero
is, though almost impossible to believe, actually the highest ranking
officer in the army. He is the number one military genius in the war.
He has no superior officer ---- he is the one in charge.
Yet, in all these observations, perhaps the most striking feature is his
face. I have never seen a face quite like this. It is almost beyond
description. The inspirer of this picture genuinely outdid himself at
this point.
The face expresses a greater variety of feelings and emotion than I have
ever seen in any other face. I really do not have words adequate to
convey all that can be seen. It's an amazing face.
For example, you can clearly see the compassion and tenderness of heart
that an experienced officer would have for his troops. There is no
hardness there. The tragedies of a long war have utterly failed to
harden his soul. The tear resting on his cheek makes it clear that he
cares deeply ---- personally ---- intimately.
At the same time the set of the jaw shows a soldier bound and determined
to both save the fallen warrior and continue the battle to a successful
conclusion. And, he intends to do the fighting himself, if need be. You
just know that he will assume the position of "Point Man" to assure no
further ambush comes the way of his men.
There is another feature, however, that I find great difficulty in both
identifying and describing. There is something there in that face ----
the faint smile of an officer profoundly grateful for this young casualty
and overwhelmingly proud of him. It is as if he is, in some mysterious
way, bestowing on this man in the mud a part of himself ---- a part of
his own seasoned disposition ---- his own vast experience of battle ----
his own inner character and nature.
The wounded soldier seems to sense that some bigger-than-life experience
is taking place.
As he gazes at the medal of honor on his hero chest, his eyes, through
the unique and absolutely amazing artistic brush strokes of the painter,
are also fixed on the eyes of his rescuer.
The longer he gazes into the powerful eyes of this unknown fighter
kneeling over him, the more transfixed he becomes. There is a soft but
yet unmistakable glow that flushes his countenance. It is as if he knows
what is happening ---- that he is receiving something far greater than
the medal on his chest.
A healing and reviving warmth courses through his body, as if new health
and energy are being bestowed. The most amazing thing, however, is his
sense that the very nature and character of the man on his knees is
flowing into his very own soul ---- a man flat on his back. Though
somewhat hesitant at first, he cannot resist. Fully knowing he doesn't
deserve it, he approves of the gift, and accepts it. He reaches his hand
up to grasp the arm of his protector ---- and smiles ---- and sleeps.
Oh, my friend ---- I wish you could see what I see.
THE STORY:
The inspiration for this extraordinary painting comes from an unexpected
place ---- Psalm 3. "O Lord, how my adversaries have increased! Many
are rising up against me. Many are saying of my soul, 'There is no
deliverance for him in God.'
"But Thou, O Lord, art a shield about me, my glory, and the One who lifts
my head. I was crying to the Lord with my voice, and He answered me from
His holy mountain.
"I lay down and slept; I awoke, for the Lord sustains me.
"I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people who have set themselves
against me round about.
"Arise, O Lord! Save me, O my God! For Thou hast smitten all my enemies
on the cheek; Thou hast shattered the teeth of the wicked!
"Salvation belongs to the Lord! Thy blessings be upon Thy people!"
(Psalm 3:1-3)
As I further studied that dramatic painting, I slowly realized I was the
man in the mud, having gone through a long and exhausting battle that had
left me alive, but gravely wounded.
I was a man felled both by "friendly" fire and the relentless mortar
attacks from the enemy behind it all in the heavenlies. Not only was I
bleeding profusely from those wounds, but I was slowly bleeding to death
as some of my own platoon members cowered in the shadows.
Fear caused by intense battle can sap the strength of even the most
courageous, and dull the vision of even the most discerning.
But, then, to the rescue came my Redeemer! He was my Healer. He was my
Restorer. He was my Captain! He was kneeling over me and breathing
healing and new life into my fractured and broken condition. And ---- He
smiled at me! And, then I slept.
THE RHEMA:
As I sat there and wept profusely that August morning on the porch of my
home, and just before I started to put the painting aside, I knew ---- I
knew beyond a doubt; the man in the mud was not only me, but also was a
thousand others who had been downed by gunfire.
I had never been "hit" by "friendly fire" before. It is a terrible
experience. It's like a bullet that not only penetrates, but then
explodes inside and exits leaving an ugly and gaping hole almost too vast
to heal.
That's when the Lord spoke to me through this marvelous "Rhema" from His
Word ---- "But Thou, O Lord, art a shield to me, ---- my glory, ---- and
the lifter of my head."
Healing began immediately. I rested in the presence of my Great
Physician, knowing that all was well. Healing came both from His
presence, and from His promise.
I knew ---- He was my shield. Nothing could get to me without passing
through Him.
I knew ---- He was my glory. No matter what others said or thought, He
approved of me. He gave me the medal. He, in fact, Was my medal of
honor. He was my glory.
I knew ---- He was the lifter of my head. He was cradling me in His
strong hands, and He was not going to let me ---- or my ministry ----
die.
OTHER CASUALTIES:
My brother, ---- is that you lying there in the mud? Look up! Your
Captain is here! He is kneeling over you. He is weeping! But, He is
smiling! And ---- He is speaking ---- to you! Listen!
He's saying, "I am a shield to you ---- you!
"I am your glory ---- not you, and not your quality of performance.
"I am the one who holds your heard in my hands. I am the one Who
sustains you ---- nobody else."
As long as I live, I will never forget that painting. Now all I need to
do is to find someone who can transfer it from the parchment of my soul
onto the canvas of an artist's easel, and then let me hang it in a place
of prominence in my study. I would love to have one I could see with my
human eyes as well as the eyes of my own imagination.
Even though this painting does not exist on real canvas, scenes such as
this are everywhere. You may even have your own version ---- your own
self portrait.
But ---- be encouraged, dear friend! For, "when the battle's over, we
shall wear a crown!"
In Christ's Great Bond,
Bob Tolliver ---- (Rom 1:11-12)
Copyright April, 1999. All rights reserved.
If this letter has blessed you and you know of someone else who needs to
be encouraged, feel free to forward it in its entirety to all such people
you know.
If you would like a list of past issues which you could receive upon
request, just let us know.
__
/ |
(_/____)
/ ^ ^
{ (O) (O) }
------oOOOo--------U-------oOOOo------
Hang in there! I'm with you!
-------.ooooO--------------- Ooooo--------
( ) /
| | /
(_) (_)
TO SUBSCRIBE, send any message to <shoulders-subscribe@welovegod.org>.
Bob Tolliver ---- Rom 1:11-12
Life Unlimited Ministries
E-mail: lifeunlimited@juno.com
Ph: 417-275-4854
Fax: 417-275-4855
___________________________________________________________________
You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail.
Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com/getjuno.html
or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866]