All things for good.

"Often, when in the thick of hardship and the locusts are having their fill; there can seem to be no end to the suffering or a resolution in sight."

Romans 8:28 is one of my favourite Bible verses..

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.”

How many times has God worked all things together for good in my life? Too many times to count! God is working for good constantly, and I notice it more as I surrender to Him, giving Jesus the steering wheel, and the glory.

A profound verse in Scripture; Romans 8:28 is laden with powerful promise, peace and love. We, as believers can stand on this beautiful word in faith when the most horrific circumstances arise. Circumstances that the enemy intended for tearing down, destruction and death, God can easily work those circumstances together for good.

Genesis 5:20 “But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.”

Often, when in the thick of hardship, and the locusts are having their fill; there can seem to be no end to the suffering or a resolution in sight. With Jesus, however, we see how, what seemed like the impossible recovery is possible after all.

Joel 2:25 “And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpillar, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you.”

In God’s hands, any difficult situation or trial can become a catalyst for change, a path to salvation, and a way for Jesus’ love to shine. Life’s tough circumstances, challenges and losses are also an opportunity for growth, as we are refined and purified at the hands of a merciful and loving Creator. Whether brought upon ourselves through our own sin, or the result of a satanic spiritual attack, (or a result of living in this fallen world) God in His sovereignty, can use our pain to bring about much good. Regardless of the reason, season or outcome; suffering is an experience that we will all encounter on life’s journey.

Hebrews 12:5-6 “And ye have forgotten the exhortation which speaketh unto you as unto children, My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him: For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.”

John 10:10 “The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”

Micah 4:3 “Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit.”

1 Peter 1:7 “That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ:”

1 Peter 4:13 “but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.”

Job 23:10 “But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold.”

Psalms 66:10 “For thou, O God, hast proved us: thou hast tried us, as silver is tried.”

In 1996, the same year that my mum passed away; my dad almost lost his life in a horrific rock fishing accident.

Dad loved fishing, especially from the beach, where large fish like Drummer were abundant. His favourite fishing spot was atop the rocky outcrop rising above picturesque Lizzy beach, a short drive from our home. On a clear Autumn day, (ANZAC day to be exact) Dad was walking along the rocks alone, with his fishing rod in hand, when suddenly he lost his footing. Within seconds, he was down on all fours, skidding along jagged rocks; face first. After finally coming to a halt, there was no longer stone beneath his body, but he could feel the cold, unmistakable sensation of water on his skin. The same rock pool where my brothers and I had often cooled our feet and curiously poked at sea anemone with wonder; threatened to take him under. The once crystal clear, pool of aqua became dark crimson with his blood as Dad struggled to stay afloat. He screamed out in desperation; “HELP, HELP ME!” Dad would probably have drowned, had it not been for a local man who was spear fishing in the ocean below the outcrop. Nothing short of a miracle; the spearfisherman heard Dad’s cries for help from the ledge above. This kind man clambered up the rocks to find Daddy in a broken, bloody state and quickly began pulling him to saftey. We later discovered, that the man even returned to the scene of the accident to locate and retrieve the teeth that had been violently knocked out of Dad’s mouth, in an attempt to preserve them for hopeful reinsertion.

I was happily playing down the road at my best friend’s house when I heard my little brother’s voice calling to me, from our back fence. He had propped himself up and his high, pitched voice bellowed through the gum trees on the two bushy properties between mine and my friends yard. “Mummy said you gotta come home RIGHT NOW!” He yelled emphatically. I quickly sprinted home to find Dad’s car with fishing rod attached, but he was nowhere in sight. A family friend had returned Dad’s vehicle and was informing Mum of the emergency at hand. It seemed like only minutes before Mum and I were on the road, headed for the Taree District Hospital, an hour or so, North- West of us.

I didn’t know what to expect or the true severity of the situation. I sometimes wonder why Mum chose me accompany her. I believe it was God’s way of showing me a side to Mum I didn’t know; a side of bravery. I would see how she, (with God’s help), would hold everything together, despite our world crumbling.

We arrived at the hospital, rushed straight to the emergency ward and Mum made her way to the front desk to inquire about Dad. I was about two meters lagging behind her when I caught sight of Dad’s unmistakable, olive skinned feet, poking out from behind an insipid coloured bed curtain. It was at that same moment, Mum caught sight of Dad’s face and she fainted to the floor in a heap. What exactly transpired next, I do not recall, however, Mum was assisted into the waiting room, where we were greeted by a very serious mannered nurse. She informed us that Dad had sustained extremely severe injuries, deemed “unsuitable” for a child to witness. I would not be allowed to visit Dad until his wounds were concealed. Whilst Mum went to see Dad, I waited alone; uneasy thoughts swirling in my mind. A significant amount of time passed; it felt like quite a long time to twelve year old me anyway. The space around me had filled with silence and dread, and when Mum finally came to retrieve me, I was terrified. My fingers desperately clung to the arm rest of my waiting room chair and I refused to move. After seeing mum faint and hearing such a frightening description of my dear Daddy’s injuries, I did not think I could bear to see him like that, or anyone for that matter. With vigour, Mum forced me to my feet; my shoes skid and squeaked on the floor loudly in protest. With a nervous giggle and surprise at my genuine fear, Mum gently reassured me that Dad was adequately covered, and I gave up the struggle.

I approached Dad ever so slowly as he sat slightly in the white sheets of the drab hospital bed. He looked to me, like an Egyptian mummy; his whole head covered in bandage strips, with just a few tufts of matted hair, poking through gaps in the white cotton. Clearly in tremendous pain and somewhat delusional from shock, Dad somehow managed to remain stoic for Mum’s and my sake. Despite the traumatic circumstances, it was a blessing to see one another. I grabbed onto Dad in a loving embrace but he grimaced in pain. We would later learn that he had sustained a broken neck, four fractures in his head (two in the cheek bones and two in his scull) a dislocated shoulder, six teeth had been knocked out and his nose was almost pulled from his face. These horrific injuries had left Dad fighting for his life.

Extremely ill equipped for such an emergency; there was little the small country hospital knew to do, or could do for Dad. A transfer via Westpac helicopter to the John Hunter Hospital in Newcastle was being sought. John Hunter was a much larger, advanced facility; able to handle complex, critical needs and conduct various surgical procedures. Dad was struggling without proper treatment, and to make matters worse, a chopper never arrived. The rescue service was inundated that day and there were no flights available. Transfer via road ambulance became the only option. The ambulance officers on duty were not convinced this was a good idea. A look of worry and despair came over one of the drivers face as he argued with the hospital staff, exclaiming that the situation was “ludicrous”. The ambo’s were not convinced Dad would survive the long, arduous trip, especially since he had already been at the hospital for hours. As no other means of transport was coming, Dad was strapped onto a trolley bed, and loaded into a large, fluoro ambulance. Painful goodbyes ensued. I yelled, “I love you” over and over into the shell of the vehicle. I attempted to say something assuring like, “I’ll see you soon”, but really, I was unsure. Emotions bubbled within me and I pressed them down hard, fearing I would only worsen Dad’s suffering if he witnessed me falling apart. As soon as the ambulance doors shut with a final “thud”, the tears burst forth in loud helpless sobs. Mummy held me in a tight and loving embrace.

We made the difficult drive home in our Ford Fairlane; our hearts heavy. I asked many pressing questions that could have no certain answers, but with a calm and soothing demeanour, Mum remained composed at the wheel. As she drove, she gently laid my head in her lap and comforted me. “Daddy will be alright,” she said softly with tears in her eyes and kept on driving. I had never seen my mother behave with such strength before; I was surprised by her determination. I don’t how she mustered the courage to drive us that long hour home in the late of the night; it was only by the grace of God.

 As Dad also made his way into the dark of night, the paramedics largest concern was their patient losing consciousness and consequently dying. In his tenacious way, Dad put up a fight by counting aloud repetitiously, for almost three and a half hours straight. Miraculously, he managed to fend off heavy eyelids; they would remain open, despite the torturous ride through long winding roads and hilly highways. When he finally arrived at the John Hunter, Dad was rushed inside to undergo many surgeries; mostly for his head and face. He received sixty one stitches in total and the pain he experienced was so intense, that he was given morphine intravenously with a patient-controlled analgesia pump. I still remember his hand holding the mechanism tightly, constantly pressing that tiny green button for some, any, relief.

There are dark stories Dad has shared with me about his harrowing experience in hospital. The battle against suffering, excruciating pain and death, was intense. Worse still, were the groans of fellow men also suffering in unison. A hospital can be a dreadful place.

After the foremost surgeries were completed, Dad was recommended cosmetic surgery, however, after many long weeks within the confines of the hospital walls, he’d had enough and wanted desperately to return home. Dad checked himself out, and despite collapsing on Mum at the hospital exit, he refused to return to the ward.

We all missed Dad too. One night, Mum and I cuddled up to his pillow for comfort; it still smelled like him. From the hospital bed, to our home, Dad would continue his arduous recovery. I would often peer into the bedroom to see his frame; a large, still and silent hump, hidden under linen. Constantly rolled up in doona and sheets, his head barely poking out; Dad was physically unable to do much more than lay on his side. Sometimes I couldn’t resist and I would go in to tell him about my days; play rehearsals, soccer games, running races and life, all continuing whilst he slept. Dad would quietly murmur in response, but it was painful for him to converse. My three brothers and I became accustomed to Mum’s urges to keep quiet when playing within the walls of our small, humble home. Diligently looking after us (four children and a bed ridden husband) all with little assistance, Mum soldiered on. I think back and I am so proud.

God’s hand was upon us; healing and bringing restoration to both Dad’s stricken body and our family. The wound recovery was miraculous; he managed to retain his handsome complexion, despite refusing the plastic surgery offered. It would take a few months before Dad’s memory and brain function eventually returned to normal, but that was also amazing, given the brain injury he had sustained. Physical miracles were occurring, but one other miracle that I remember dearly was relational.

Whilst Dad was in hospital for many weeks, my Grandma came to stay with us for a little bit to help out. Mum and Grandma had a loving relationship, however, having conceived Mum when she was just sixteen years of age, life had been difficult for them at times. In the company of Grandma, Mum beamed with joy. I hadn’t seen her laugh so much in such a long while. They tended to the house and the many chores; enjoying being in one another’s presence. Sometimes deep in discussion and other times, just simple moments of laughter and love; healing was taking place. One night, after they had seen a comedy film at the Tuncurry cinema, Mum and Grandma returned home and would not stop giggling. It may have been on the same night when, Mum, Grandma and I all sat on Mum’s bed together and Mum got out her jewellery box. Admiring the modest, yet pretty jewels and embellishments, were three generations of daughters, communing together. I honestly believe that because of that time, where Grandma came to stay and love on us; Mum and Grandma’s relationship was strengthened and healed. God used that time powerfully and the beautiful memories of these moments would be treasured after Mum’s sudden passing; only months after Grandma’s stay.

I believe that restoration also occurred within Mum and Dad’s marriage. In the late Eighties, before we had moved to the Mid North Coast from Sydney, their relationship had endured a rough patch. In the last few years before Mum’s death, however, I have fond memories of them being very loving and affectionate towards one another. Mum would happily sit on Dad’s lap with her arms lovingly wrapped around his neck and say; “I love you my Kevington.” Although their relationship had certainly had its fill of ups, downs and heartache; at the time of Mum’s death, they truly loved one another. My sweet Grandma’s moving eulogy at Mummy’s funeral, even gave mention to how Mum had recently shared with her, that she had “fallen in love” again.

Sadly, the traumatic nature of my Dad’s accident was a lot for Mum to endure and, it would contribute to her untimely death. At only thirty seven years of age, (just four months after Dad’s accident) Mum died suddeny, on a Saturday morning in Spring. Mum worked at the aged care facility in town and she loved putting on the nursing uniform, even the drab, white stockings. Whilst getting ready for her shift, her heart failed under massive cardiac arrest.

One of the sweetest of women, on the day of Mum’s funeral, the church was full to the brim with family, friends, co-workers and community who wished to express their love and honour her life. After Mum’s passing, Dad also wrote many beautiful poems about his beloved. The poem that was engraved on Mum’s heart shaped headstone reads:

“Fewer words my lady spoke, yet in our hearts sweet words she wrote.”

Those short, sweet words summed up Mum beautifully.

In hindsight (by revelation of the Holy Spirit) there were curses in both Mum and Dad’s lives back in 1996 that contributed to the intense suffering we endured that year. My Dad's accident had occurred on ANZAC day and it was actually the second ANZAC day where he had almost died. At the time of Dad’s accident, my grandfather and my eldest brother also sustained serious head injuries in separate accidents that same week. My Pop had a serious fall and my brother B, fell off his push bike, losing his two front teeth to the bitumen. Both Dad and B wear a dental plate with false teeth to this day. B suffered with terrible migraines for many years after his accident, however, Jesus healed him miraculously around three years ago! Dad and Mum were believers back then, however, we did not know about curses or how to break them by the power of Jesus blood. We were also unaware of the true power of Jesus to heal and deliver.

Curses can come from what we (and others) speak, what we choose to bring into (or allow in) our lives. Whilst Dad was fighting for his life in hospital; Mum had asked for God to take her life instead of Dad’s (we didn’t have knowledge of this until a few years ago). Our words have such immense power. In the Bible, Jacob inadvertantly cursed his own wife, Rachel, when her father, Laban was searching for his stolen idols:

Genesis 31:30 “And now, though thou wouldest needs be gone, because thou sore longedst after thy father's house, yet wherefore hast thou stolen my gods?And Jacob answered and said to Laban, Because I was afraid: for I said, Peradventure thou wouldest take by force thy daughters from me. With whomsoever thou findest thy gods, let him not live: before our brethren discern thou what is thine with me, and take it to thee. For Jacob knew not that Rachel had stolen them. And Laban went into Jacob's tent, and into Leah's tent, and into the two maidservants' tents; but he found them not. Then went he out of Leah's tent, and entered into Rachel's tent. Now Rachel had taken the images, and put them in the camel's furniture, and sat upon them. And Laban searched all the tent, but found them not.”

Jacob’s words came to pass and Rachel died, on the side of the road whilst in labour with their son Benjamin. This was not the first time that death had been spoken over Rachel, she herself had also cursed her own life:

“And when Rachel saw that she bare Jacob no children, Rachel envied her sister; and said unto Jacob, Give me children, or else I die.”

The late Bible teacher Derek Prince created some tremendous teaching resources and sermons about blessings and curses:

“Never permit yourself to say that. Don’t make negative statements about yourself. Don’t say: I’ll never be able to do this. I never succeed. I’m no use. I’m a failure. I just can’t take it anymore. And then you go on and you say, I wish I were dead. I’d be better off dead. Do you know what you’re doing? You’re inviting the spirit of death. And he doesn’t take many invitations. Ruth and I have dealt with countless people who needed to be delivered from the spirit of death because they’d invited it, they imposed a curse upon themselves. And we’ve learned one beautiful verse that has helped hundreds of people. I’ll share it with you, Psalm 118:17: I shall not die, but live, and declare [or proclaim] the works of the Lord.

If you have made a negative remark about yourself, if you’ve imposed something negative on yourself, you need to revoke it by the positive. You see, as a remarkable example you know that Peter denied three times he knew the Lord. Later on after the resurrection beside the Sea of Galilee Jesus had a personal talk with Peter. And three times he said, Do you love me? He made Peter affirm three times that he loved him. Why did he do that? Because Peter had to revoke the negative statements he’d made before the crucifixion. See?” [1]

Prince also wrote prayers for breaking curses, and how to walk in blessings by the power of Jesus precious blood. In the years after Mum’s passing Dad was so blessed to discover these prayers and we saw immense breakthrough and healing over our lives (and others lives also).

James 3:10 “From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so.”

Proverbs 18:21 “Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits.”

Ephesians 6:12
“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”

Galatians 3:13
“Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.”

After speaking with Dad recently, he also shared how, at the time of his accident, the sport of soccer was an idol in his life. Games, coaching and training were regular fixtures within our week; often taking up much of our time and causing distraction. Almost everyone in the family played, and from Friday evening to Saturday night it was hours of seemingly endless football. Dad would often use his involvement in the local soccer club as a way to minister and share his faith with others, but ultimately at that time, he admits that he loved soccer more than Jesus. The sin of idolatry, would ultimately contribute to his accident occurring.

“It’s better if we don’t have to be woken up by trials; it’s better to stay right with God.”

-Dad

The tragedies that occurred in 1996 were terribly painful and devastating, however, God worked these things together for good. Jesus was tenderly caring for Dad, and he leaned into God as his Comforter, in the extreme. Dad lovingly parented my brothers and I, with little to no assistance from man. Thanks be to God, he did an amazing job. Some may chose to push God away in the face of such trials but Dad did not. Instead his intense suffering made him draw closer; he knew he couldn’t make it through without God! Jesus was building up Dad’s faith and He would begin reading the Bible for hours each night, poring over the Word. Dad was so full of the Holy Spirit. The enormous suffering he had endured was synonymous with his immense spiritual growth. The intense physical and emotional suffering that Dad had endured, also allowed Jesus to instil in him, an immense compassion and empathy for his fellow man. In the years following 1996, Dad was often moved to tears by the Holy Spirit and he was not ashamed to cry! The hard circumstances Dad experienced were a catalyst for needed change and also equipped and enabled him to “step up” with Jesus; to go higher in his calling and purpose. Ultimately, God had set Dad on a path to become a missionary.

Ephesians 4:1-3 “I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called, With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love; Endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

1 Peter 5:10 “But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.”

At eleven years of age, whilst at Sunday school, Dad would win a prize for his studious efforts. This prize; “Young Man in a Hurry- The Story of William Carey” is a beautiful book documenting the testimonies and adventures of famous and godly missionaries. Still in his possession today, the precious pages within were an inspiration to Dad and served somewhat of a prophetic purpose. Although many long years had passed since he was eleven; Dad took up the missionary mantle for God when he was in his forties. He would eventually travel to many a foreign land and proclaim the Good News; helping numerous people in need.

Romans 11:29 “For the gifts and calling of God are without repentance.”

Romans 5:3-5 “And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope: And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.

The fire within Dad, for Jesus, continued to grow and he became deeply passionate about the Bible and the Bible teachings of Derek Prince. Dad studied teachings on breaking curses and the healing power of Jesus by Holy Spirit. He would begin to cleanse the house; throwing away any object that may offend God or hold a curse. Sometimes I would be forced to throw away some of my possessions, (much to my protest), however, years later, once I became a believer myself, I could appreciate immensely what Dad had done. My first personal encounter with a demon that had been attached to an object occurred one night, after I had retired to bed. My jewellery box was open on a blanket chest close to where my husband and I slept. I awoke in the darkness of night to find a physical demon manifesting and rising out of the box. I had not yet learned how to cast out demons and I was afraid, but tongues came rushing forth by the power of Holy Spirit. I aimed these heavenly words at the demon, and declared the name of Jesus with much vigour. All praise be to Jesus, the demon departed. In the light, on closer inspection of my jewellery box, Holy Spirit revealed that the demon had come out of a pair of my mother’s earrings I had inherited. When I turned the earrings over, I found they had been stamped with the word “Mexico” (I have nothing against Mexico, or the Mexican people, however, there is plenty of pagan worship that goes in Mexico and some objects are created for dark spiritual purposes). Everyone within the household at that time had also been awakened by my experience and under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we binned other cursed jewellery and objects before returning to bed. My motto these days is; “If in doubt, throw it out!” I have also seen others set free from bondage by disposing of cursed and spiritually unclean objects (under the leading of Holy Spirit).

Acts 19:18-20 “And many that believed came, and confessed, and shewed their deeds. Many of them also which used curious arts brought their books together, and burned them before all men: and they counted the price of them, and found it fifty thousand pieces of silver. So mightily grew the word of God and prevailed.”

Dad has experienced much suffering in his walk as a believer. There have been pitfalls, defeats, tremendous losses and shortcomings, however, God has used all of these circumstances for good. These times of trials, tests, spiritual attacks, and (at times) God's discipline, were all used to grow, test, equip and build Dad’s faith (and the faith of those around him). My walk as a believer is also touched tremendously by seeing how God has loved Dad deeply through these tough circumstances and only with Him, has Dad been able to overcome. What a blessing it is, to pass onto your children; invaluable lessons from the Lord.

In the last few years, God has stirred Dad’s heart even further, as He has called him deeper into the healing and deliverance ministry. After studying the teachings of the late John. G Lake, and being miraculously healed of athsma (he almost died from athsma on several occasions, before Jesus healed him) Dad has been used by Jesus to heal the sick and cast out many demons by the power of Holy Spirit. Walking in the gifts that Holy Spirit has blessed him with; Dad continues to walk in this ministry. Jesus also used Dad to plant a Church in the Asia-Pacific where he mans his post as a pastor; loving others and bringing God glory, despite persecution.

I thank God for providing me, with a wonderful and loving (earthly) Dad. Jesus’ love shines through him and his godly character helps to strengthen my faith- love you Daddy.

Our God does truly work all things together for good; the big, the small and even the shattering moments. Jesus is such a loving God, who wants to walk with us now and into eternity. Not just walk along side us, but He carries us when life’s moments are debilitating. From our very beginnings, Jesus shines His light on us. Jesus leads us out of darkness by the power of His blood; Jesus sacrifice on the cross where His, miraculous, (almost unfathomable) loving exchange, saved us and washed us clean. Sometimes it takes time for the picture to become clear, for the pieces of life’s messy puzzle to join together, but God does work every moment and every occurrence in our lives together for good: for those who are the called (for them that believe) according to His purpose. All because He loves us and we love Him. Amen!  

References:

 [1] Derek Prince, Sermons.love https://sermons.love/derek-prince/7155-derek-prince-negative-self-talk-may-invite-the-spirit-of-death-in-your-life.html