Trapped By Circumstances


By Phil Scovell




     I was bored.  Walking in into the kitchen, I asked my mom
what I could do.

     "Spit in your shoe," came her standard reply.

     No help there, I figured, so I said, "Can I go outside?"

     "Sure," she said.

     Stepping out the back door, I walked into the backyard and
looked around.  There was Uncle Fred's house trailer.  It was mid
afternoon so I knew Uncle Fred would be gone to work.  I stared at
the apple orchard but didn't feel like climbing trees that day.
Then, looking at our tool shed, I decided to go and see if there
was something inside I could find to do.

     The door wasn't locked.  This was back in the day you didn't
have to lock up your tools, cars, or homes; at least not in the
part of town we lived in.

     Making my way across the tool shed, I began looking at the
different tools my dad and Uncle had.

     Just then I heard a voice behind me at the door.  "That you
in there, Scov," came my friend's voice.

     It was Danny Johnson; my best friend.  "How'd you know where
I was?" I called back.

     "Ah, your ma told me you were out in back and I saw the door
opened so figured you must be in here.  What's ya doin?" he
wanted to know.

     "Trying to find something to do," I replied morosely.

     "Hey," Danny said suddenly, "what's this?" and he kicked a
long metal tool laying on the floor up against the wall.

     Coming over, I looked down.  "It is a post hole digger," I
said.

     "How do it work?" he asked, staring curiously at the strange
looking device.

     Picking it up, I held it upright between us.  "You hold it
like this on the ground and then turn these handles at the top.
As you twist it around and around, the bottom digs a whole in the
ground."

     "No foolin?" he said with amazement.  "That's neat.  Can we
try it out?" he asked.

     "Sure," I said.  "I've never used it but I've seen my dad and
my Uncle Fred using it before so we can try it."

     Danny helped me carry the post hold digger out of the shed.
"Where can we dig?" Danny asked.

     "Let's go around on the side of Uncle Fred's trailer.  We
don't want a hole in the middle of the backyard," I said
warningly.  "I doubt my dad would like that."

     "Ok, that sounds good," Danny replied and led the way as he
carried his end of the post hold digger.

     Once we were at a location where few people walked, we began
twisting the handle and watching the post hold digger chewing into
the soft soil.  We learned that every so often, we had to pull the
tool free of the hole that was being dug because the algor filled
up with dirt.

     "This is really neat," Danny exclaimed.

     "Yeah," I agreed.  "I think so, too."

     We continued digging the hole, dumping the dirt, and taking
turns staring down into the hole to determine our progress.

     At one point, we began sticking our legs down into the hole
to see if we could touch the bottom because the hole was too dark
to see to the bottom.  Finally we stopped because the hole was
getting deep and the handles were getting closer and closer to
the ground.  "Wow," Danny said, "that was fun."

     I agreed but said we better return the post hold digger to
the tool shed because it would be getting dark soon.  We did and
Danny left for supper.

     We soon forgot about the hole we had dug.

     The winter was typical for Iowa and the hills in the apple
orchard provided wonderful places for sledding and just running
through the snow.

     It was getting late in the afternoon and we all got tired and
decided to go home.  Plus, our clothes and boots were filled with
snow and we were cold.  We all separated and began tramping
through the cold snow to our individual homes.

     As I walked out of the orchard, I decided to take the
shortest route to the back door because I was getting really cold.
The snow was deep and my boots felt heavy.  My gloves were wet and
I shivered as I walked down the small hill along the south side of
Uncle Fred's trailer.

     Suddenly, and without warning, the ground went out from under
me.  My foot hit the bottom of the post hole Danny and I had dug
just a few weeks before with such force, it jarred my teeth.  I
hadn't seen the hole because it was covered over with several
inches of newly fallen snow.  My thick heavy boot over my shoe
jammed tightly in the bottom of the whole and I was stuck fast.  I
could not get any leverage because my left leg was so far down, my
right leg was stretched out in front of me.  I pushed and pulled
and grunted and groaned but couldn't move.  I felt panic for the
first time in my life.  I looked up.  There sat the house but all
the windows were tightly closed since it was winter.  I screamed
and yelled at the top of my lungs but no one could hear me.  I
continued struggling but my boot was jammed so firmly at the
bottom of the hole, I couldn't even move my foot.  I fought for
all I was worth and feared the worst; I was stuck and was going to
freeze to death during the night.  Giving one mighty tug, my foot
pulled free of my shoe and it's boot.  My sock even pulled free of
my foot and I stumbled, crying, across the snow filled yard and
into the back door of our home; minus a boot, a shoe, and one
sock.

     I was 50 years of age before the Lord revealed to me the
importance and the power of the renewing of the mind as a born
again Christian.  Being raised a Baptist for about the first 30
years of my life, and later becoming a part of Charismatic
churches, I got the idea, somehow, that it was what I did for God
that counts.  This had to be true, of course, because it was all
finished, I was taught, upon the cross.  That sounded right so, of
course, being a good Christian, I never questioned leadership,
that is, my various pastors over the years, and my professors in
Bible college.  Besides, I had been taught, to question
leadership, that is, was a good way of getting into big time
trouble with God.  I well remember some very forceful sermons on
this topic, too.  One, in fact, focused on the theme, "The pastor
may not always be right but he is always the pastor."  The sermon
itself made the sharp point that nobody messes with the pastor.  I
wanted to be a good Christian, a faithful Christian, a Bible
believing Christian, so naturally I wasn't going to disobey
leadership and never question what I was taught.  WARNING!  THIN
ICE!

     Let me stop right here and point out how wrong this is
theologically.  First, it isn't Biblical and secondly, the
opposite is true.  If we are never to question what we are taught,
then we are under control.  Control by whom?  The Holy Spirit?
The True Lord Jesus Christ?  No.  We would be under the control of
leadership.  Take my word for it.  It might be worth living by
this philosophy if your "leaders" would ever stand up for you when
things get tough but they rarely do.  I have people sit in my
office all the time who tell me, after describing their situation
and circumstances, that they, yes, have been to their pastor about
these things but they have shown little, if any, interest.  I just
had a man going through a divorce tell me, as I wrote this
article, that his own pastor has never once, in all the weeks of
the divorce proceedings, ever asked him even a single time how
things were going.  This very same pastor had conducted marriage
counseling with this man and his wife weeks earlier and he now
doesn't know the man might be hurting?

     Excuse me, pastors, but may I say something here?  I am tired
of doing your job for you.  If you aren't called to be the
shepherd of your sheep, then resign and go find something else to
do for a living such as selling used cars or something.  If you
don't have the brass to do that much, then pay me for the work I
am doing which you refuse to do.  Now, back to the purpose of this
article.

     As I was saying, the truth is, we are commanded to exercise
the renewing of our minds as Christians.  If you don't know where
these verses are in the Bible, then hunt around my website and
read a few other articles where I go into this in more detail but
theology class isn't the purpose of this writing.

     How do we renew our minds as Christians?  This is something
that, at first, and depending upon the level of suffering one is
experiencing, often takes agreement in prayer with some other
Christian who is, at the least, an intercessor.  An intercessor is
generally a person who can agree with you in prayer in such a way
that Jesus is invited to do His work in your life where it needs
it.  The intercessor is not there to do the work but to facilitate
the prayer of agreement in order to expedite the healing process
and the renewing of the mind where there are hidden lies implanted
by the Enemy and emotional woundedness.

     Often these prayer sessions are nothing more than two people
talking and praying together in very basic ways.  What we are
looking for is the trapped that was laid, the hole that was dug,
the lie that was implanted, the sin that was committed, or the
confusion that was experienced.  This is often during earlier days
of childhood but is not limited to that period of time.

     As previously stated, I was 50 years of age before the Lord
revealed how this worked.  Now, it is who I am as a Christian and
it is what I do as a ministry.

     As I pray with people, we often discover woundedness that
occurs from various stages in life.  Sin, believe it or not, is
rarely the cause of the woundedness for the average Christian.  By
that I mean, the average Christian has already confessed whatever
sin they may have committed and done so hundreds, if not
thousands, of times throughout their life.  Why do they keep
confessing to the Lord the sin of a given event over and over
again?  Because, quite simply, just as I was trapped in a hole I
dug, they are trapped in the guilt of their sin.  No, not trapped
in the sin or even because of the sin but they are trapped in the
guilt.  Why?  Because, somebody lied to them.

     Sometimes the pain we suffer is a direct result of our own
circumstances.  We feel trapped.  The most common word I hear when
praying with others is, "I feel trapped."  Often it is the result
of something we did.  No, it may not have been sin committed but
it is something for which we feel bound to take responsibility.
If you find yourself in just such a circumstance, call me and let
the Lord begin His healing journey in your life.

Phil Scovell
Denver, Colorado
Phone:  303-507-5175
WWW.SafePlaceFellowship.COM


I Flew Kites With Jesus
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