Spiritual Hypochondriac Possible Definitions: 1. Someone learning about gifts of the spirit (prophecy, healing, teaching, etc) who convinces themselves that they aren’t qualified to have any of them because God couldn’t possibly trust them with all their baggage. 2. Someone learning about spiritual warfare convinced that every demon, generational curse, etc has been plaguing them without their knowledge this whole time. 3. Someone who hears that a trainer has the gift of prophecy (insight from God about who they are praying for) and avoids eye contact in fear that God is going to tell this person something awful about them that they will proclaim this news to the group. 4. A world racer who signs up for not one, not two, but three “one on one” debrief sessions with the trainers convinced that surely one of these wise folks will have insight into their diagnoses. Towards the end of this week I made up this disease in response to how I was feeling. I went into each of my three sessions convinced that it was going to be the time that they uncovered something heinous about me. I don’t think you ever go to the doctor wishing sickness on yourself… but what’s worse than coming home from the doctor and finding out you’re sick a week later. I was prepared for it… I wanted it… What’s next God?? This year for so many of us are about transformation. Dealing with the past, letting God strip us and break us down, and letting Him transform us into the people we are made to be. I want to be transformed and to be fully alive… so I always want insight on what the next speed bump is on this road. Here’s the verdict for now: 3 out of 3 debriefers agree… I’m healthy. But… what about all the times I messed up in high school? What about relationships? What about dealing with making people my idol even here on the World Race? Nope, healthy. and ready for more… Crap, it looks like I’m out of excuses. And then I started having this emotion that I couldn’t really put my finger on… it sort of felt like disbelief mixed with fear with just a dash of… grieving? Am I really mourning my baggage? That night in our worship time God put these words in my mind… How much do we love our baggage and our pain? We say we hate it… but we don’t mean it. It’s part of our identity. When God is pushing me in a new direction how quick am I say… no no God, not me, I’m just a girl who had a scaring relationship in high school and drank too much beer in college. And yet the prayers I pray are for healing and freedom from my past… it just not adding up anymore. Another crazy thing is this… I believe this about other people! I’m out here this year because I believe in the redeeming and freeing blood of Christ… but when it comes to accepting God’s grace in my own life, do I really believe that “anyone who is in Christ is a new creation, the old has gone, and the new has come?” (2 Corinthians 5:17) Does my life model that I am “free indeed?” (John 8:36) We do the same thing about blessing, don’t we? We pray for blessings over other people… but can we accept the blessing being poured out on us? In an amazing teaching during China about struggling in prayer… our contact reminded us of the life of Jacob (you can read about him in Genesis). He was a messed up dude… but he knew what it meant to be blessed. He knew how to pray for blessing and mean it… he wrestled with God about it, and then he walked it out. I am blessed. God’s grace covers me. It’s time to stop diagnosing myself with demons and denying my worth in the eyes of Jesus. I am free… and it’s time to start living like it.
