I'm pretty certain I posted this awhile back but I hadn't finished the 
article.  So, if you read this following testimony, and think you have read 
it before, you likely have.  However, I have added a lot to it so I thought 
some might like reading it again.

Phil.


You Can Do Better Than That


By Phil Scovell






 I was just 20 years of age.  My wife and I had only lived in Denver for a 
couple of
months.  That year was an extra harsh Colorado winter for the Denver area. 
At that time,
in 1972, the snowfall in Denver was 61 inches for the seasonal average. 
That first winter
we lived here, the weather service recorded over 100 inches of snowfall and 
a dozen
major storms of 12 inches or more.  A couple of blizzards were over 20 
inches.  Over the
years, fortunately, this type of weather has dropped off to the point that 
the annual
Denver snowfall total is down to about 30 inches.  The high country, as we 
call it here, in
the higher elevations of the Rocky Mountains, still continues averaging 10 
to 30 percent
above normal seasonal snowfall nearly every year.

 I remember these wintry details for many reasons but largely because I 
found
myself out in this cold freezing, snowy, icy weather during November trying 
to learn my
way downtown using my white cane.  At that time, we lived in west Denver and 
where I
ended up working was about a 45 minute bus ride with an exchange of buses in 
between
and that alone, the exchange, I mean, lasted several minutes just by itself. 
I had already
trained considerably with the use of the white cane for mobility but Denver 
was much
larger, with more traffic, and streets that were less than the average 
squares created by
corridors north and south, east and west, which provided for more convenient 
right and
left turns.  I was more accustomed to traveling this way from living 
previously in Omaha,
Nebraska.

 I also quickly learned that places of intersections in the Denver downtown 
area, at
that time, had four-way stops.  That is, all four lights turned read at one 
time and people
could cross diagonally to any corner they wished.  This made crossing such 
an
intersection, especially since I learned the hard way the first time, quite 
difficult.  As a
white cane traveler, you listen to the people in front of you, or around 
you, and judge
direction by where they are going.  Logically, when the light turns, you 
cross just like
everyone else around you.  Not so fast, Quick Draw!  I stepped out, the 
first time I
learned otherwise, following a man in front of me when he suddenly swerve 
and makes a
hard left angle turn.  I thought, "Where in the Sam Hill is that guy going," 
and fortunately
I continued straight across the wide street.  A tip about this type of 
crossing is to listen for
the waiting traffic to the side.  Cars are pulled up, engines idling, 
waiting for the lights to
change.  This is, by the way, what kept me from following the man who curved 
away
from a straight walk through the painted white lines of the crosswalk. 
Later that day, I
mentioned this event to a blind friend and he explained to me what was 
happening and
indicated streets where this was permitted.

 Since I had a considerable bus ride, bus transfer, and several blocks to 
walk to
work even after leaving the bus, a mobility instructor was appointed to come 
to my house
during evening hours to teach me where to find the bus stops, going and 
coming from,
work, and to learn the route in-between.  This was extra training just to 
get to work and it
lasted two weeks.

 During this particular November, it was bitterly cold, snowy, and the 
streets,
parking lots, and sidewalks all had a great deal of ice and snow 
incrustation.  After being
outdoors for two and three hours, we both, my mobility instructor, and 
myself, were
getting more than a little cold.  Such focus mobility in bad weather, for a 
blind person,
creates, to say the least, extra stress.  You are listening at all times to 
your surroundings
such as barking dogs, are they coming this way, cars backing out of 
residential
driveways, not seeing you, and nearly running you down, sidewalks at 
intersections with
cut down curbs level which assist in helping you suddenly find yourself in 
the middle of
the traffic without realizing it until several car horns begin honking 
louder than a flock of
geese flying south for the winter, and you scurry back to where you judge 
the sidewalk is
and pray you don't get run down before you fine the damn street corner.  Of 
course, no
respectable Born Again Christian, spiritual man of God such as I, would 
never think, let
alone say, such a thing, but it is the way of things traveling blind and 
hoping your white
cane isn't mistaken for a broom handle or mop handle before a driver 
squashes you, or
knocks you into next week, which has, by the way, happened to a couple of 
friends of
mine; one died and the other survived.  So we ain't talking about a warm 
Sunday
afternoon stroll in the park type of relaxation sort of thing, when White 
cane traveling is
via busy metropolitan streets, if you get my meaning.  Additionally, in such 
cold weather,
wearing earmuffs, a stocking hat pulled down over your ears, or even just a 
common old
hat can change the acoustical characteristics of the sounds around you and 
coming to
your frozen ears.  If you think feeling around with a white stick with your 
eyes shut is
dangerous, just let your hearing freeze up and find out now you can't even 
ear where you
are going.

 Another unique experience for a blind person is crossing a street with a 
situation
of a parking lot, or in my case, a gas station on the opposite corner. 
Since there are few,
if any at all, reference points in which to allow you safe passage 
traversing such a place,
it is common, if you aren't staying focused, especially to the traffic noise 
on one side of
you, to veer off a straight line into the parking lot or gas station.  In 
such cases of drift,
you end up walking into a parked car gassing up, or you'll be introduced, 
somewhat
embarrassingly, to a gas pump with which you have collided, , or perhaps 
you'll miss
everything and walk right into the front of the gas station building; 
breaking out a large
display window with your head.  Then there is the likelihood of being run 
down by a car
pulling into, or out of, the gas station just as you are crossing the 
entrance or exit
driveways.  This was one of those cases.  Due to the extreme cold, 
frustration of learning
a difficult mobility route, I drifted off to my left.  I was tired and cold 
and sick of trying
to remember all the left and right turns to reach the appointed destination. 
In fact, I
occasionally, to this very day, still have nightmares that harkens back to 
those days of
watching your step, sort of speak, or be killed on the way to work.  The 
mobility
instructor, who was following at a considerable distance, began yelling, no, 
screaming at
me, "Think, Phil!  Think!"  There was something to the tone of his voice 
that angered me.
In my ears, his words sounded more like, "You idiot.  Can't you do better 
than that?"

 Many decades later, I was seated in a friend's office as we talked about my
daughter being a meth addict, the stress of closing a church I was 
pastoring, and a dozen
other things that had finally gotten me down.  I was depressed, hardly 
sleeping, hearing
voices, and was suicidal.  A ministry a man was doing is quite similar to 
what I do as an
intercessor and praying with people, allowed me to make an appointment with 
him.  The
anxiety and panic attacks I was having at this point in my life were more 
than I could
handle at the time.  During our conversation and time of prayer, my friend 
said, "Phil,
you know what to do; you just aren't doing it."  It was true, of course, 
that I knew what to
do, at least, based upon what he had taught me and that I had learned from 
other Bible
teachers and preachers.  The problem occurred when I found myself doing all 
the things I
had been taught by such people but it wasn't working for me.  "How could the 
Bible," to
which I was obedient, "not be working for me?"  This was pushing the anxiety 
level off
the meter's scale.  I honestly did not know what to do.

 Recently, at a low point, these two memories collided in my thoughts.  I 
could not
identify the emotions associated with either of these two memories which had 
caused me
to instantly conduct my standard automatic (SAD), Search and Destroy 
mission.  I felt,
based upon the Lord displaying both memories at the same time, they had to 
have a
common theme, commonality, or buried lie, but how and where?  I could not 
see the
connection but I knew it was there.

 Several weeks passed and I had, of course, prayed about these two memories
repeatedly and seemed to make little, if any, headway in understanding the 
memories and
their relationship.  One day, as I sat at my computer, not typing but just 
finishing a task, I
felt the Holy Spirit say, "So how did you feel in both these memories?" 
Since I was
finished with that which I had been working, I stood up and walked about 6 
feet to a
secondary room where I have a reclining rockingchair I sit in when praying 
with people
on the phone.  Sitting down, I allowed my thoughts to instantly focus on 
these two
memories and straight up, whatever first came to my mind, answered the Holy 
Spirit's
question.  I named things such as rejection, a feeling of defeatism, and 
other related
emotional feelings but somehow, none of what I felt really touched the core 
of the
woundedness these two very vivid memories brought to my mind and emotions. 
Then, I
heard it within the flow of my thoughts, "You can do better than that."  It 
was actually a
more menacing and threatening thought in my mind along the lines of, "You 
can't do
anything right.  You're blind.  Blind people can't do anything right.  And 
you call yourself
a Christian."  These fiery darts of outside thoughts attempted, and 
accomplished,
penetration into my mental flow of thinking patterns, (I.E. my mind).  . 
Recognizing
what it was, demonic oppression with a truck load of lies they were dumping 
on me, I
took every thought captive, praying against it, and authoritatively cut off 
their ability to
continue trying to gain a spiritual handhold in my thoughts and mind.  The 
two
memories, although different, were linked.  Thus, the Christian and the 
secular crossover
perpetrated a dual mental attack.

 In such wounded memories, there is also the truth that is needed to bring 
healing
to the circumstances and the damaged emotions associated with the pain one 
feels.  I was
stumped as to what the truth might be and turned the memories over and over 
in my mind
trying to probe for the truth that Only the Lord can give.  It eventually 
dawned on me that
the lie the Enemy was attempting to hide was, "You can do better than that." 
The
problem was, this type of a lie contains truth.  We all can most certainly 
do better.  We all
can achieve personally.  We all can succeed in any area of life we desire. 
In short, there
is no limit to what we can do but even great achievers in life often suffer 
from depression
and overwhelming thoughts beyond their control.  So what's the truth? 
Usually doing
better means based upon someone else's standard, that is, "Do it like me, 
and as well as I
am doing it, and you will not only be ok, you'll be like me."  WRONG!  I 
want to be like
Jesus and I am, so buzz off.  This attitude, though normally unspoken, 
creates an endless
and impossible level of accomplishment because, quite simply, everyone is 
uniquely
created differently.  So, in short, in an earthly sense, there is no human 
standard of
success or failure.  In this case, Jesus answered my question concerning the 
truth and He
said, "I have already done all that needs to be done.  I accept you as you 
are.  You don't
have to become a better person to impress me.  I am already impressed with 
you just as
you are now, and this is because you are just like me.  I have made it so."

 If you try and improve upon this concept, you will discover you can never 
do
enough; you can never achieve adequately, to the point, that you are 
fulfilled or satisfied
with yourself.  You will be that little cute hamster in his wheel; running, 
and running, and
running, and spinning, and spinning, and spinning, yet without ever reaching 
your goal
and satisfaction that you have done well in the sight of the Lord.  You 
will, in short, spin
yourself into what I call, (CQG), Christian quasi genericism simply put, 
performance
based Christianity.

 Aren't you sick of living like all your Christian friends?  Haven't you, by 
now,
exhausted about everything the pastor has told you to do to become a well 
behaved good
little Christian?  Haven't you read one too many Christian books telling you 
how to live a
successful, productive, Godly Christian life?  Hasn't legalism, in all it 
various shapes and
ugly forms of phony spirituality, gotten the best of you by now?  When will 
you ever
achieve the best you can be and how will you know you have spiritually 
arrived?  My
answer is simple.  Whatever I can't do, Jesus already has done.  Why should 
I reinvent
the theological wheel, whipping up a denomination in the process, or in 
order to maintain
a good strong hold, that is, control, just have one big megachurch with 
thousands of
Sunday-go-to-meetin' folk and thousands more on television that send me 
money.  Boy,
ain't we having church now!

Recently, a good Christian buddy of mine tried reaching me three times over 
the
weekend.  I don't know where I was but it wasn't where I could hear my 
office phone any
of those three times.  He did record each time, a voice mail message, 
leaving strong
words of encouragement and instruction.  How did he know I needed to hear 
his
encouragement?  He knows how to pray and how to hear the Holy Spirit.  It's 
easy;
anybody can do it who learns how to pray.  In his direct words of challenge, 
it included
mild rebuke for trying too hard and forgetting to let the Lord do all the 
heavy lifting, plus
confirmation of his personal love and concern for me as friends and 
Christian brothers in
the Lord.  He also told me a story you also need to here, so I'm going to 
tell it to you.  It
is more than worth retelling.

 A good old boy is walking down a dusty old road in the summers heat with a 
100
pound see bag toss over his shoulder.  During his long walk into town, an 
old beat up
pickup, with bald tires and rusting paint, slowed and stopped next to him. 
"Say, son," he
called out the open window which handle had busted off three years before, 
hop in the
back and I'll give you a ride right on in to town.  I'd let you ride up 
front but got my wife
and two young-uns already up front, if-en, that is, you don't mind ridin' 
yonder in back."

 "Naw, sir," the young boy replied.  "I'm much obliged and I surely thank 
yaw
kindly."

 The boy, with his heavy feed sack, climbs into the back and sits down with 
his
seed sack still hanging off his right shoulder.

 As they drove on in toward town, the driver of the pickup looks back and 
notices
the boy is still trying to hang on to that heavy feed sack tossed over his 
back.  Since the
back winda of the truck had been blowed clean out accidentally by the 
farmer's shotgun
discharging last fall when he had been hunting rabbits and squirrels, 
blowing the winda to
Kingdom Come, nobody hurt, praise be to the Lord, the farmer said, "Say, 
son.  I knowed
this here truck ain't much but she's strong and big enough to carry that 
feed sack you be
trying to carry.  Drop the load, boy, and enjoy the ride."

 Do you see it?  Even as Christians, and I don't care if you have a radio or
television show, have written 50 books on how to be a magnificent specimen 
of Jesus
Himself, are a millionaire and give a 20 dollar bill each week in the 
offering at church, or
even if you've been saved and healed from disease, bowlleggedness, bald 
headedness, an
athlete's foot, if you are still dragging that heavy sack around when Jesus 
has done
already done all the heavy lifting, you best be getting your head examined 
real soon like.
And if you cannot understand plain English, you ain't never gonna be free in 
Jesus.  If
you need help finding out how to get rid of that heavy old sack, you all 
give me a ring.
Yaw hear?  Better yet, get Jesus on the horn and talk it through with Him.

It Sounds Like God To Me
WWW.SafePlaceFellowship.com