“I feel like for the first time in my life, I am whole,”
I heard myself say to Ed through tears over a cup of tea the day after the conference in Argentina.
I knew going into this conference that something was going to happen in my life. Better said, something needed to happen. I had been dealing with a long-standing void inside of me that I could never seem to get my hands on. Every good thing that ever came my way – even some great things – would seem to be mine to hold for a fleeting moment before being sucked into oblivion by some sort of spiritual “black hole.” Though I was in the middle of them, and even an initiator of some of them, they would never last long enough to become part of me.
It was a perennial cycle. Outwardly, I was functional; many say even a “blessing.” Inwardly, however, I was living and losing a raging war that periodically erupted in frustration, anger and unwholesome thinking that only God and my precious wife, Sue, would know about.
Several weeks before the conference, the weeping began, not out of brokenness as much as of pain. I was tired, weary in my soul and becoming hopeless in my spirit. A week before the conference, I had no choice but to let Ed know I was not in good shape, nor in condition to provide much meaningful assistance to him during this the most important event of our year. It was most painful, but I needed space and grace.
Ed did not hesitate in obliging. Weeping, I embarked to Argentina. Hungry. Needy. Desperate.
Loyalty and ability got me through the first days of activities. Then came the messages on Sunday morning – Ed speaking about the orphan spirit; Bishop Vaughn McLaughlin ministering on the Father’s heart. Tears flowed throughout the message as the confusion inside of me began to unravel.
I had never considered myself to be an orphan. I had come from a preacher’s home – godly parents who were friends to everyone and enemy to none. I never felt rejection. But I suddenly realized that my parents were unable to mentor me for the playing field on which I was now playing. Without thinking about it, I began to make my own decisions, without many available counselors, and often ignoring the ones that might have been there. I built myself, and in the process, the spirit of an orphan took up residence in my soul, living in a shadow of doubt that would persistently and naggingly ask, “Are you sure you are doing the right thing?”
In the early 1980’s, after being in local church ministry for 18 years, Ed began speaking to us about joining the Harvest Evangelism team. We sensed the Lord was in it, but the shadow was there. I remember the day that my pastor jerked me out of my wavering and asked me point blank, “David, what are you going to do?” With my back to the wall, I blurted out what I knew was right. “I’m going to Argentina.” But the shadow was there.
The church graciously and enthusiastically supported us from the beginning, saying, “We will support you because we love you and trust you,” leaving an unspoken implication to feed the shadow: “But we’re not sure we like or agree with what you are doing.” 18 years later, Sue and I did our best to accept with grace the decision of the church to no longer include us as part of their missionary family. But the unknown orphan within me took another hit.
As Ed spoke from the platform mixing his own story of lonely leadership with that of Joseph’s journey from his father’s presence to the pit, Potiphar’s house, the prison, the palace and finally to his own posterity, I began to spot the orphan hidden in the shadow.
Then Bishop McLaughlin spoke about how there were three empty chairs on the platform the day that he was installed as a bishop: that of his father, his pastor and his mentor. In spite of all of his successes in business and ministry, he told how he had just recently come to grips with those voids in his life and realized he needed to submit to a father figure who could fill them. His words were like rays of light that began to dispel the shadow and the orphan began to walk toward the Father’s embrace that he had never known.
Suddenly, the same lonely weariness that had been burdening my soul pushed me out of my seat toward the front as Ed “put skin on God” and offered to stand in as a spiritual father to the “orphans” in this transformation movement. Hungry and tired, I stood, off to the side of the room, eager to be healed, trying to avoid being seen. All at once, Ed pointed at me and declared, “Dave Thompson, you are no longer an orphan.”
Instantaneously that black hole caved in on itself.
Tears flowed uncontrollably.
I wept outwardly while the orphan wept within.
A peace and rest began to flood my soul and the tears like life-giving water began filling me up like a tank. Filling up! That was a new feeling! No leaks! A feeling of completion and wholeness and alignment began to overcome me.
The next day, I made my comment to Ed, going on to say, “For the first time in my life, I am getting to know myself.” Weeks later, still no “leaks” and I’m enjoying the guy I’m getting to know.
It’s true. The devil is not afraid of the dreamer. The dreamer is in and of himself weak and vulnerable. Rather, what the devil is afraid of is the dreams of the dreamer, especially those that come from God, and for that reason will try to suppress his ability to dream and even take him out of circulation.
It was not until Joseph broke and wept on the necks of his brothers that they began to speak with him openly and the relationship with his father and his family was restored, and his posterity began to take form.
The pain and weeping continue, but it is pain on its way out and most of the tears spring from gratitude and joy at the mercy of God. Like Joseph, by getting in touch with the orphan’s pain, I am entering into a fullness of relationships that I did not have, and I am once again a dreamer that is in touch with his dreams, most of which have to do with becoming a father to a nation and nations – to be part of making that glorious day happen when “the kings of the nations of the earth will bring their glory to the throne of God.”
The old prayer has taken new life within me. “Father, let Your kingdom come. Let your will be done…in this earth and in my life, just like it is done in heaven…”
Click here to watch the video of Vaughn McLaughlin’s presentation
Click here to read and post comments on this story