The Divine Appointment

It's no secret that I am of Native American descent.  Unlike most folks who claim the ancestry, my great grandma was not a Cherokee princess.  My grandpa was a hardworking switchman for the railroad and his father before him was a coal miner, who had done what many Native American men did back at the turn of last century.  He joined the military under interesting circumstances, to "become a citizen."  There are more details, but suffice it to say, I'm proud of the stand he took and was blessed to have many wonderful memories of him throughout my childhood.   My ancestry is not just skin tone and hair color, it's literally a part of who I am.  I am an earthy, tribal woman who prefers simplicity to social status; or I guess that is my social status . . . Being both a follower of Messiah and Native American, I am often viewed as a bit of a curiosity.  This led to a wonderful experience which was one of those "divine appointment" moments!

Years ago, when I heard my call to minister health to a godless nation, I presumed . . . and began making plans to become a doctor heading for a foreign land.  It was two years later, I heard "home."   Within the next couple of years, several things happened that caused even the idea of medical school to go by the wayside.  In the first decade and a half of adulthood, my life was in a word:  unstable.  I wasn't doing what I was called to do, but I was doing just about everything else!  I wasn't a partier, didn't do the drug scene, but my career changed about every 3 years, as did my marital status.  By my mid thirties, I entered covenant with YHWH, following Messiah, and headed back to His plan!  It would still be a few more years before I realized, Big Pharma was not a part of His plan for my life, yet I was still called to serve in a healing ministry.  Such a paradox in this pharmaceutically dependent Christian nation . . .

Within 7 years of attempting to balance between mainstream medicine and remedies of our Creator, as well as the synagogue and church, I realized there was no balance in any of that, so, I stepped out.  I gave up trying to participate in what is recognized as "complementary health" and have not had so much as a Tylenol in my home since.  I also accepted the fact that the Christians seem to believe Torah obedience is legalism and is in opposition to grace.  Those two realizations made life a bit less complicated, but a great deal more isolated.  I truly began walking in my call by the Passover before 9/11.  Don't get me wrong, there have been some stumbles, fumbles, and pitfalls along the way, but the direction of the path has remained constant, although the width has continued to narrow.

Fast forward now, to February 2013, when "Wilt Thou Be Made Whole?" was published, authored by yours truly, life had already changed dramatically for me, on many levels.  It would be two years nearly to the day, that a long lost desire of my heart would be made manifest.  In the realization that I would be heading to the Cherokee nation with the Good News and healing, I have spent a few days in Oklahoma looking for the location in which I'd set up.  I would always smile and make some comment as I went past the "Cherokee Queen Hotel."  I felt a draw there, but hadn't yet realized it was part of The Plan.  In looking for real estate, and/or commercial property, with a cash ready offer; I couldn't even get a realtor to call me back . . . but I knew I had to be in The Nation on a certain date.

By that time, I realized, there was a step between hearing more, and the implementation, so I made a reservation for a room at The Cherokee Queen.  Since there's no garden this year, and the kids weren't yet due, homestead maintenance was minimal, so, I planned a private "retreat/advance" prayer time.  It's a good thing I stepped out on that date, because seven kids have arrived since my "divine appointment."  Without divulging a confidentiality, I had the opportunity I'd longed for.  Through the course of a chat in the lobby, I was able to offer a minimal reflexology treatment with oil for anointing . . . For years, I've longed to be able to just walk up to someone and offer to lay hands on them and anoint their feet in the Name of Y'hshuwah . . . The individual was receptive which brought about a time of rejoicing as well as an opportunity.  The door into the Cherokee Nation came through that divine appointment at The Cherokee Queen.

Not Esther?

What woman doesn't like to feel a little "princessy" once in awhile.  I've never been one to enjoy the thought of just being ornamental, which as it turns out, is good.  Otherwise, life would have been a real let down!  Porcelain doll, I'm not, and kid gloves are not required but once in awhile, I'd still like to be "handled with care."  That is not a loaded statement or one of innuendo, just once in awhile, a little pampering would be nice . . . I think.  Not even pampering, just a comforting touch!  That's it, a comforting touch.  Again, let me reiterate; I miss ((HUGS))!

I've really been searching these past few years about the change I've sensed coming.  I almost wrote soul searching, and for a time, I was quite introspective, but that was years ago.  I've been searching and seeking Abba's answers in some strangely unresolved questions and situations for some time now, and all of the things He's brought to me and said, He'd already shown me, I just wasn't ready to see it.   As it turns out, after praying to "Live the Bible," Abba has shown me passages that were "all mine."  That's not to discount others, but simply passages that leapt off the page to me, for introspection, implementation, or experience.

In all honesty, I've not been the best of servants, but I've been outspoken and obedient to the point of being the target of false accusations and rejection.  I truly do seek Abba that I may handle it graciously, but it hurts.  It not only hurts my "human feelings," it hurts me that Messiah is disrespected and YHWH is discounted, as our society clings to traditions and self-defined images.  When I pour out my tears on my couch as David mentioned in the Psalms, more than once, I've told Y'hshuwah, I need to feel his strong gentle touch.  I need a hug!  I just want to feel his big strong carpenter arms around me, and hear Him say, "Well done, I understand."  It is then that he shows me, he is also hurt.  While I'm sniveling about hurt feelings from some rant; He suffered, bled, and died for me as well as that ranting individual.  He doesn't admonish me, nor condescend, but rather in His gentle, calming outstretched arms, I see the scars.  It certainly puts my "human feelings" in perspective.

So, being "princessy" in the fairy tale sense is not my call, but I do know, it's not the princess part that is errant, but the fairy tale expectation; that is.  Princess is not defined by earthly task or position, but rather simply by being a daughter of the King.  I still remember hearing a sermon based upon Esther 4:14, knowing it was spoken to me, personally.  As I reread Esther yet again, I rediscovered; her position as queen, not princess, was only for a greater work.  She was placed in an unequally yoked position.  Thankfully, my identity in Y'hshuwah has not been kept secret.  I've been able to be open about my beliefs, quite open about my call, and my purpose.

As I look out the window and listen to the sounds of the homestead, I smile.  This task to which I'm called, is the one for which Abba created me and equipped me.  I can't imagine existing in the "kept life" that Esther lived . . . in a harem.  Most of her time as queen was actually spent with tens, perhaps even hundreds of other women.  Oy vey!   How ill suited, I would be for that task.  Some days may become wearisome in the need to be strong and sturdy, but He provides the strength!  This is my place in the Kingdom for such a time as this.