What the “What About” is All About

Well. Thinking out loud. Sorting.

Because I’ve got some skin in some battles.

Because of this Exodus Angel.

Because I didn’t choose any of this. He did.

And He led me right straight into it. Into the Exodus “-ites” battles.

And He’s telling me how to fight the “-ites.” My Canaanites, Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, and Jebusites.

The way is dangerous and He’s telling me the only way out is the way in.

But this Angel sent by the One Whose name is in Him knows what He’s doing. He’s clearing the land.

And He knows where He’s taking me. Good thing, because I couldn’t begin to get there myself.

And I wonder what it’s going to look like. Something beautiful somehow. I can’t imagine, really. Not the whole of it. But I’m seeing it little by little. The clearing. The beautiful. The silence and the song.

 

“Beware of Him, this Angel,” says the One Whose name is in Him.

I laugh out the incredulous “Whaaat? Beware of the Angel? What about the
“-ites” and earth shaking roar, “Devour!”

“What about that?” How like God to answer my question with His question. My incredulity with His credibility. His ability to believe. That is His credibility. Not mine.

I want a “real” answer. So I ask again, “What about that “-ite” battle cry? Do you hear them roar? My skin is shaking!” He knows what I really want to know “what about.”

“What about credulity? Trusting My credibility? Believing what I know? I am the faithful One.” And He’s speaking pisteuo to me. I recognize the words trust, believe, and faith. 

“Them’s fightin’ words!” comes unbidden to mind. Because trust, believe and faith are ammunition for the likes of me with trust issues.

And pisteuo means, “To entrust something to someone. The word can also include the notion of obeying.”

(Greek Word Study)

That “something” is everything to me and that “someone” is The One.

The “what about” is all about this.

 

About Him believing in what He’s saying. About me believing because there is nothing and no one more believable than God who speaks through Angel and believes every one of His own words.

 

And about doing what He says because He Himself does what He says.

 

“Beware to obey His voice.” It’s the first thing I’m told to do about this  Exodus twenty-three Angel. Yes, Exodus 23:21. Right after God says what this Angel is going to do about me.

Isn’t “beware” short for “be aware?” I think so.

This is centering. “Be aware of His voice.” Wary in battle, yes. Alert in danger, yes.

But…

Be aware.To obey. His voice.

Because what He’s saying is more earth shattering than “-ite” roar.

“Do not bow down to their gods or serve them,” The Voice says.

And I know some of their names. Self-righteousness. Bitterness. Unforgiveness. Fear. It’s choice not to bow. Not to serve. And I chose. And choose. And, yes, fear has thrown me down and seized me til I shake unconscious, but thrown down is not bowing down.

“Drink all Holy Spirit. Swallow it down sweet,” The Voice says. “I will set your bounds from sea to sea and from desert to River Euphrates.”

 

 

I like this part. It’s the part I’ve been praying for since before my knees begged for the yellow life preserver I store under bed and since before I began to see the clearing and the beautiful and the silence and the song.

And well, “Euphrates” means “Sweet Water.”

I’m swallowing. And, yeah, it’s sweet.

 

God has some skin in this, too. He clothed His Son in the same kind of skin I’m wearing. It’s epidermis. I look it up because why isn’t it just “dermis?” Dermis means skin. What is the “epi” part of the skin I wear? That the very Son of God Himself wore?

It’s “the outer nonvascular, non-sensitive layer of skin, covering the true skin” (Dictionary.com).

It’s skin on skin.

He wore the same “epi” skin that breathes in and sweats out and covers porous thin the dermis that feels and bleeds out blood and pours out water.

The Holy poured. Through holey pours.

The Holy poured.

The “It is finished!” shook earth to core and “-ites” to death and the battle was the war and won the war.

Still. There are battles. They have to be fought. But I’m not fighting for victory, but from victory. And I fight covered in Holy Skin on skin.

His skin changes everything.

 

I’m packing pisteuo pistol. Because pisteuo declares God’s faithfulness. Kaboom!  And pisteuo declares my trust, belief and hope in Him. Kaboom! Boom! Bang!

And I’m learning what it feels like in hand. And how to aim it. And how not shoot myself in the foot. Thankful for this pisteuo notion of obedience.

And guess what? I’m not waving it around like a mad woman! 

 

 

 

Yeah, I’m fighting like a girl. My camo is pink and I don’t like broken fingernails.

But I’m fighting all epi-dermis.

And epi-soul.

It’s a word. Epi-soul. It has to be. Because I’ve felt my soul sweat chill and hot fear. And because I’m in this and not just skin deep.

I’m in it believing the holy is the true when the “-ites” fake it.

In it because I’m not a deserter and don’t own a surrender flag.

In it because I’m kept in by this crazy Exodus Angel sent by the One Whose name is in Him and who isn’t afraid of anything and who says, “If you’re going to beware of anything here, beware of Me and if you’re going to listen to anything here, listen to Me.”

In it because I can be at peace. Not in pieces.

I can be whole. Not shot full of holes.

I can be at ease. Not un-eased by dis-ease.

I can drink Euphrates sweet. Not swallow salty.

And I will be. And am.

Because…

 

“I will cut them “-ites” off, hon.’” I can’t help smile at this crazy tough Angel.

“I’ll send My fear before you… and big ol’ hornets the size of Texas…and, hon’, they won’t know what hit ‘em when they high tail out-a-there and run scared ‘cross the border of Mexico.” Yeah, this Angel wears it right.

“And I’ll draw up the lines from this here sea to that there sea, and from the desert to the Rio Euphrates.” I laugh and raise pisteuo pistol overhead and fire off three freedom shots like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“Pull!”  Truth shoots up red flare bursting open.

“Pull!” Faith shoots up pure white glare.

“Pull!” Hope breaks open sky wide and fire blue.

 

God is faithful and this Angel is awesome!

 

 

written by: Carolyn Roehrig