An Unintentional Idol

I admit that, subconsciously, I had made an idol out of my mother in our last years together.

Prior to her passing over, if I wanted to “hear from the Lord”, I asked her to check with Him for me, and she always did.  Her prophetic gifting was tried and true; my nephew and I relied on it increasingly over the six years we had with her before she died.

While there was nothing sinful about our tapping the gifts in her life, per se, my heart began skewing the meaning behind being privy to such resource.  For me, my mom had become the connection to God in my life.  My faith was in her faith at times more than it was in God alone; does that make sense?

Still, our benevolent, understanding Father used of it whatever He could for good whenever He could.  For instance, I struggled yielding to Holy Spirit’s desire to impart tongues to me until one Sunday… Resurrection Sunday in 1988 when – in utter desperation – I grabbed my mother standing next to me during service and cried out to her for help.  Like the loving mother she was, she took me into her arms and prayed, “Father, please give her what she stands in need of…”

When I heard the words of that prayer and felt the release of her faith, it also released mine.  Long-story-short, I have been utilizing and enjoying “my heavenly language” ever since!  Our Father recognized that day that the bottom line was to allow faith to come to me in whatever way possible so that I would yield to the gift Holy Spirit held for me.  Very often our God will take whatever He can get to bestow blessings upon us.  That day, my faith in my mom’s faith in God worked for my good.

Our God is amazing.

HOWEVER, since God does not have any “grandchildren” or “children once removed” – something serious began to be exposed for remedy within me.

Not Ma’s Fault

Let me hasten to say that not for one instant did my mother ever promote my misguided allegiance to her prophetic giftings.  On the contrary, she was the biggest proponent of my coming to “know God for myself”; she encouraged it often, saying, “Read your Bible and pray… ask God to speak to you, and He will.”  She was right.

I did so a few times back then, and it did work; God did speak to me and confirm His voice… but confirmation came through my mother (because He knew her words activated my faith); so the misalignment of my allegiance remained a while longer due to the tremendous comfort zone I had embraced via inquiring of God through Ma.  IT WAS ALL ME, folks.  I stood – yet again – in need of some deep deliverance, and God had patiently planned, all along, to bring it to me.

Although my predicament wasn’t the primary catalyst for her death – my mother’s passing due to uterine cancer left me little choice but to finally “know the Lord for myself” as she had begged me to so many times in the past.  So, even from the stifling pain of her death, God brought forth good in my life setting my eyes solely upon Him.  

God willing, next week I’ll share as much as Abba directs of the brief journey of her passing.

Blessings to all,

Pastor Sharon

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