Dearest Loving April,
Oh! Praise The Lord! I am so happy! God is the almighty Healer! He
can and will heal anytime and anywhere! I'm so happy for you!
You bet you have lots of work to do here on earth! <smile>
One of them is to call me. <grin> lol.
Praise Be To God!
Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow! I love that song. <smile>
Love and Blessings,
Pat Ferguson
At 10:25 AM 1/21/2010, you wrote:
>As usual, Brother Phil, I truly enjoyed this e-mail. There is
>definitely a lesson there. Guess what! I am officially cancer
>free! Praise God! I have to go every six weeks to flush the I.V.
>port, and I have to have check-upss every three months, but God
>still has work here for me to do. Praise God from whom all blessings flow
>!
>
>
>----- Original Message ----- From: "Phil Scovell" <[log in to unmask]>
>To: <[log in to unmask]>
>Sent: Thursday, January 21, 2010 12:51 AM
>Subject: You Can Do Better
>
>
>>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
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>
>
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