Author Archives: Karla Jo Wasion

I love Jesus and His Church. His Word is Truth, His heart is good, and His return is sure.

God in the middle east

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While having no time for mundane things like dusting because my life was, quite frankly, a little out of control in the fast lane – God carved out two weeks to stop it all and go away to a place where getting the house dusted is not on anyone’s to-do list.

Beauty and pain…

Beauty of Lebanon1

The Middle East awaited me with a beauty that took me by surprise.

Syrian woman2

Everywhere I looked, I saw Him, because everywhere I looked I saw those made in His image, and I felt the pain of Love.

I felt the pain of begging for whatever man would give because there was no hope for what God longed to give her.

And I remembered that I too was once such a beggar.

The real hard…

It was hot and humid and sometimes harder than I thought it would be. The sixth floor and no elevator kind of hard that made me angry for not taking better care of myself so that I could make it to the top without fear that I would stop. breathing. Mosquito (or some other evil insect) bites that covered legs with a blistery, itching-until-I-wanted-to-cry mess kind of hard. No air conditioning and windows closed to keep out the mosquitoes so sleep is impossible kind of hard.

And then God showed me what hard really is and my heart bowed in gratitude and repentence as I realized that uncomfortable is not the same as hard.IMG_0390  IMG_0391

Living can be uncomfortable, but living without the hope of Christ is the real hard.

That’s the hard place that God sends us into so that we can forget what is uncomfortable, and weep for the hard that surely must break His heart. It’s the hard ground He asks us to tread on to bring Love that softens and changes and sows and waters and pushes back darkness so that Truth takes hold.

Beloved, hard is everywhere and God is inviting us into it with Him.

High places and low places…

Twice we went to the high places in two different cities for the purpose of praying for those cities.

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Palestinian camp

And there’s just something moving about taking to high ground to cry out to the God on high.

Because the heart of God is moved by the prayers of His people.

IMG_0350And it was in the high places praying for cities and in the low places of a refugee camp praying for destinies as I held tiny hands while I painted tiny fingernails, that God called intercession forth from a dormant place in my heart. And in that calling forth He answered a question I didn’t realize I had asked. “What is my purpose in this place, on this team?”

In high places and low places, I found my place as an intercessor as the stirrings of His Spirit moved my heart in familiar ways, renewing something I thought was gone.

While climbing to heights and bending down to touch small hands, this truth became fire in my bones…the question is not “will God answer?”, but “will I cry out?”

Thankfulness…

Our travel-weary selves, with, various pains and sickness and the uprising of flesh, worshiped Him and He spoke.

My blood is enough. My grace is sufficient. My glory is worth it.

And I was reminded again that we do not live for us but for Him and He is worth every pain of crucifying our own flesh and that in our dying, He is bringing life. And with all of this, I became thankful. Thankful that He is a God of community and that He calls us to go together, to live together, to love together, and to die to ourselves together. I found myself then, and even more so now, so very thankful for the team I was so honored to be with in this adventure. A team that loved well, honored in incredible ways, died to themselves in hard places, called each other out and up when it was needed, and allowed God to have His way. There were no fingers pointing, just hands offering to carry burdens and love covering and people pressing through hard places with tears and laughter and comfort and encouragement.

Team in Saida

I am thankful because I saw God in His Beloved. I am thankful for blood and grace and a Glory that is worth it all.

I am thankful that He allowed me the privilege of going to the Middle East to find Him there.

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bad tap dancer

“Will God be mad at me if I…”? She was being pressured to convert to another religion to please the man who says he loves her. As I waited for the oil change I had come there for, she sat on the floor, waiting for her own car to get whatever it came there to get. She listened to me and my friend talking to each other about Jesus and then timidly asked her question. I could feel my heart breaking.

Or maybe that’s what God’s heart feels like when it breaks.

So we moved from our chairs to sit down on the floor next to her. As the story came out of parents pushing her to find a husband online and a man she’s never met from another country who promises love and marriage, she assured us that Jesus is her Savior and that would never change, it would just be to appease the man’s family. But she kept coming back to her question. “Will God be mad at me?”.

I wish I could say that I told her all that her heart really wanted to know in those few moments, but I didn’t. Truth was spoken, we prayed for her and invited her to church and then the oil was changed and our car was waiting. Just a few minutes of time with a woman with a question. And I wondered if hearing that God loves her and has so much more for her than what she wants to settle for would be enough to change anything for her.

But I think that encounter on the floor wasn’t so that I could give a woman the answer that would change her life. It was so that I could recognize the question that has haunted my own heart and that led to God’s purpose for me this past year.

“Is God mad at me?” 

Beginning last August, this year brought a sifting, which brought that question to the surface, revealing what I believed about God after 25 years of walking with Him.

Because the lie that always answered my question was “Yes”.

And I feel like a newborn calf, trying to walk out of a lie and into truth. It’s awkward, and I fall down a lot but one baby step at a time my legs are getting stronger.

running-awaySoon I will run and not look back.

I will leave behind me the lie that I am the child of an angry God…

…a God who loves me if I act right but who will turn away from me if I sin.

Left in the dust of my feet will be the constant weight of feeling that I have disappointed God and must perform well to gain His approval again, only to lose it the next time I step out of line.

But I am not running yet. I’m still stumbling,trying to get my footing in this place of grace.

tap-dancing

Still tap dancing for God, trying to earn His favor and love by performing well.

And in the dancing and turning and circling and walking on wobbly legs, I am learning and God is teaching and fresh truth is filling my lungs and I am taking real breaths for the first time.

God’s love for me is wide and deep and it doesn’t move. His affections are for me, all the time, and He always wants to be with me. He knows me better than I know me and still loves me and wants me and calls me His own.

I am my Father’s child and my Father’s heart is good. His love and affections are mine forever and nothing will change that truth. He sent His Son to die in my place because He wanted me to be with Him. His desire is not that I tap dance for Him, but that I trust Him with my whole heart.

And I am breathing deep this revelation of love that silences questions and the sounds of tap shoes.

Trusting God is an endless journey through the heart, I am finding. I did trust Him. I do trust Him. In many ways, for many things. But with the sifting, has come new revelation. Revelation that everything is an issue of trust.

Because Adam and Eve did not trust God’s goodness and that has passed into the hearts of all of mankind.

The root of sin is a lack of trust in God. Unbelief. 

sifting

God allowed my heart to be sifted to separate out the unbelief that was keeping me from abundant life. To reveal that although I knew He loved me, I didn’t really trust His love to stay put even on my worst days, when I couldn’t tap dance to save my life.

And that is God’s point to this story. Tap dancing didn’t save my life in the first place. Love saved my life. Dying saved my life. His love, His dying.

He died because He loved me in the midst of my sin. He died because I couldn’t tap dance my way to Him and He wanted me then and He still wants me now and the desire of His heart is that I would trust that truth.

And to finally realize that I can’t dance anyway.

on my way to unearthly things

“As Jesus was on His way, the crowds almost crushed Him. And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years, but no one could heal her.”  Luke 8:42-43

 

He was on His way and I think of how often I am on my way. He stopped and I think of the times I haven’t.  And then I’m not reading anymore, I’m thinking and then I’m pacing because I don’t like these thoughts but He is the one bringing them up and you can’t stop Him. You just can’t. Like a dog on a bone, He is relentless.

It’s a small house and I quickly run out of rooms to go in and back out again. When there is no way out from under His gaze the pacing stops and I let Him teach my heart what it needs to learn. Because as much as I want to run (pace) away from seeing what is about to be exposed, I want to be like Him.

people-rushingLife as a Jesus follower can’t be lived on my way to something else.

 

He was on His way but He stopped for that one. That needy one who was looking to get something from Him. The beggar with her hand out to grab onto hope. Living like Him means stopping like Him. Stopping for the one in front of me. The one desperate for something I have.

But I’m always on my way. Work, class, errands and a life that can’t wait. Sometimes I’m just on my way to the couch because I’m tired from being on my way all day. And true to form I try to argue my point with God. Life is busy and my plate is so full and there are just some things, things that aren’t a couch,  that can’t wait while I stop. Important things.

Lesson:  Don’t sit down at the table with God no matter how good you can shuffle. He will always have the trump card.

“I was on My way to raise the dead.”  

 

I want to be like Him. I want to follow Him where ever He goes, because I just can’t live without Him. I want to run my race slow enough to stop when He stops for the one in front of me.  I want to see the needy, the hungry, the desperate ones that are on my way to somewhere else.

I sat down to spend time in His Word and I ended up with the thoughts on this page. Thoughts that I need to slow down, take notice. And then I laugh right here and now as I realize what God was really after. This one final thought that sinks in past my mind and into my heart.

I want to be on my way to raise the dead. 

womens_prayer-1I don’t want to be on my way to work anymore. I want to be on my way to speak life to someone at my workplace. I don’t want to be rushing to get to class, I want to be on my way to speak encouraging words to someone in that class who needs to hear them.

I can stop going to the grocery store to buy groceries and be on my way there to tell the weary woman in the check-out line that Jesus loves her and has strength for her.

And now I find myself not pacing but clinging once again to His feet making a mess with my tears. He always goes so deep when He encounters us, you know? He didn’t show up in my bible reading moments just to tell me to slow down and pay attention.

He showed up to teach me that while He was on this earth, He was always on His way to something unearthly. And to invite me to follow Him while I’m on my way.

 

i have to stop drinking

Mr.rogers-300x295It was an off-handed comment, really. She and I were discussing God things, and “love your neighbor” came up. Without thinking I added “as yourself” and I saw a look pass across her face and I knew, so I said it. Looking into her eyes, I said: “you haven’t loved yourself, have you?”. And we both began to cry. Since then I can’t stop thinking about it, those words Jesus said… “love your neighbor as yourself“.

agapaō

“to welcome, to entertain, to be fond of, to love dearly”

Because what was true for the woman across from me, is true of me. Neither of us has loved ourselves well…I was just better at hiding it.

But we both live in a world that drinks down self-loathing that goes deep into hidden places.

So she and I are not alone but it is my story here on this page and I tell it in the hopes that we can all stop drinking what is killing us. darkness-flees-from-light Because God doesn’t let things hide forever, you know. He is light and those hidden things can run but, well, you know the rest.  And when what is hidden is hit by light it can take our breath away with this realization…

If I loved my neighbor as I love myself, I would find their every flaw and never let them forget them. I would remind them of them every. single. day.

I would not be kind… to their bodies or their emotions. I would call them names. Not truth names, but lie names. Instead of “beloved, chosen and forgiven”, I would call them “unworthy, messed up, and incapable of going one stinking day without stepping in sin.”

I would make them work harder and harder to try to get it right, and every day I would judge them for getting it wrong.

I would berate them for not being better. I would compare them to others, and they would always come up short. And sometimes I would wish they were someone else.

But now that light has shot into deep places, what was hidden in the  dark squirms in discomfort. I can no longer be comfortable telling someone else they are worth loving if I cannot say it to me. 

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And right there God draws His bottom line in my sand of self-hatred and unworthy thinking. And if I am to step across the line, I must be willing to speak truth to me before I can speak it to you.

I am worth loving because God loves me and He does no unworthy thing.

He is good to me. He is kind to me. He is oh so merciful to me, and gives grace in abundance. He does not finger point but lovingly corrects me. He delights in me, sings over me and surrounds me with Himself. I was forgiven, I am forgiven, I will be forgiven because the blood of Christ leaves a stain sin cannot wipe away. I am called to imitate my gloriously good Father, and live a life of love and that means loving and not hating me. It means calling myself names that are true and not lies, treating me kindly both body and  soul, giving me grace when I fail, taking His correction and refusing my condemnation. It means looking past all that I am not and seeing ahead to all that He has destined me to be. self hate

It means I have to stop drinking what is killing me.      

i will not die in this place

desert-campingI had a vague sense of what God was calling me to this year, but it was just that. Vague. Wispy. Fragile.

But I knew He was calling. I could hear His voice. Ever have that? You know He’s speaking, but you can’t make out the words? Like the wind picks them up and carries them off before they can reach your heart.

Until you draw closer. Until you get up from your wilderness spot where you’ve set up camp and head toward the sound of the voice that makes the hunger in you start to gnaw.

Until you get close enough to realize He’s saying the last thing you expected to hear.

“So we see that they were not able to enter, because of their unbelief.” 

Third chapter of Hebrews hit me like a brick in the back of the head. Those people who seem so far removed from me wandered in their wilderness until they died because they did not believe God.

I had stopped believing (cue Journey song. In your head. All day. You’re welcome).

And from the book of Hebrews His voice rose to meet my weary hunger. “Wilderness wandering is not your destiny. It is not what I had for them, and it is not what I have for you. 

Do you believe Me?”

20140105_072642So I went to the place where my belief was safely tucked away. Fifteen or so journals filled with the cries of a heart that believed God.

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I read and remembered and cried because I don’t know what happened.

I read and remembered that my life is proof that God hears and God moves.

I read and remembered that all things are possible with God.

I read and remembered what I believe.

And I don’t know if I came out of the wilderness, or if He tired of calling me and came in after me. 

All I know is His voice is clear, His call for me this year is certain, no longer vague and wispy, lost in the hot wind of my wilderness.

This year, I will pray again with boldness and passion. I will ask Him for impossibles because I believe all things become possible in His hand.

I will pray for those I love who do not walk with Him to have knock down encounters with the living God. Encounters that leave no room for doubt that Jesus Christ is both Lord and Savior and that the danger to their soul does not pass with magic words but with knees that bow and necks that bend.

I will pray for marriages to be restored and not just restored but made brand new.

I will pray that depression and despair pack their bags and depart from the Beloved and that the door hits them firm on their way out.

I will pray for the broken to be healed, the chained to be set free and the lukewarm to be set on fire.

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I will pray for prodigals to come to their senses and come running home to a Father that is waiting to kiss their neck.

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I will pray for power from on high to come upon the Bride of Christ and make her into the formidable foe to darkness that she is meant to be.

I will pray because I believe God moves and the spiritual realm shifts to attention when the people of God cry out from the faith He has given them.

I will not pray from a place of desperation or resignation. I will not utter words from my lips while my heart remains silent in unbelief.

I will not pray for what is possible for man, but for what is only possible for an all powerful God who sits on the throne of heaven with His feet on the footstool of earth.

This year, I will pray because I believe God.

This year, I will not die in the wilderness.

 

i have to leave

“Come, follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

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That line makes it sound so easy, like all they left was nets. But I know better. We who have done some leaving to follow Jesus, we know.

I know they didn’t just leave behind their fishing gear, but their way of life. I know, because the call from Jesus for me to follow Him wasn’t just to leave drugs, but to leave a life of drugs. And then it went deeper still. Following Him meant leaving a life of numbing my pain. A life of seeking my own comfort. None of that leaving was easy, but all of that leaving was worth it.

But there are some nets that are harder to leave than others and I find myself wishing and waiting for Him to just take the stupid nets because then I could leave. Then I could follow.

As much as I want Him to just take this pride away from me, to relieve me of the burden of carrying around my selfishness and desire to have things my own way…I am going to have to face the truth.

Jesus didn’t take their nets and He won’t take mine. 

And I remember the last time I had this conversation with Him. Feeling like I just couldn’t keep going and wondering why following Him was so backbreaking hard. Finally getting brave enough to tell Him that it was just too hard. I didn’t get shamed by Him. He didn’t turn away from me. He just spoke hard truth.

“It’s hard because you’ve tried to follow without leaving.”

Following Jesus means we have to leave something. Every. Time.

Two years ago I, along with my husband, left our home, our church and our friends to follow Jesus to someplace we’d never been. I left the comfort and security of earning a living doing what I know, to go into full-time ministry doing what I’d never done. Leaving those nets was scary hard but I’ve never regretted leaving them.

Another year is coming to a close and I’m looking forward to what is coming, but I am also looking at what needs to be left behind so that I can follow Him into a new year. What are the nets I’ve held onto, continuing to cast them out to try to meet my own needs? What self-comforting, self-centered, self-sustaining ways do I need to walk away from so that I can walk in His ways?

I want to leave these insecurities that keep me from following with my head up and not down.

This comfort zone living keeps me from new places of trust.

Old ways and habits that smell like death keep me from following Him into the fullness of life.

If I can’t leave my fear then I will not follow Him in peace.

“Come, follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.“

His promise is to make me a person who lives for a purpose beyond myself.

It won’t happen if I won’t leave.

Matthew 4:19-20

drum beats

It began with Believing for Wonderful. Then there was a teaching in the discipleship school. We wrote on a name tag the negative word that describes how we really tend to identify ourselves. My name tag was too small. I wrote Insecure because it was the least revealing and I wasn’t ready for this class of 33 strangers to know that I could have covered my whole body in name tags.

doorwayAnd I hated that this door had been opened because I’ve marched to the rhythm of what is behind it and I don’t know another way to march.

 I want to slam that door but God opens doors that no man can close. 

And now my soul is open and my name tags have been exposed and I can feel the beat of the liar playing my song full of ‘you are’s…’ and ‘you are not’s…’. And I know I get to choose but choosing is hard when you’ve marched this long to one song. Even when you know the song is a lie.Continue reading “drum beats”