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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