Glorifying God-3

Over the years, each of the God-head have been misunderstood and maligned.  God the Father has been portrayed as a stern, unbending ruler, ready to zap His creatures into line.  God the Son is often misconceived as the sweet little baby in the manger or the wimpy  teacher who “turns the other cheek,” or the horrendous victim of a violent crime who refused to defend Himself to save His own life.  And the Spirit-God, many find Him scary, fearful He might cause them to do something strange, weird or violent.  Besides, how can one envision the image of rushing waters, or the “personage” of a dove?

It’s taken several days of research for me to shape a picture of the third member of the Trinity–the Holy Spirit.  And I still cannot get an adequate bead on Him.  Trying to visualize the invisible is like trying to catch a summer breeze in a bottle.  It’s too far outside the human experience.

The closest I can come to His identity is describing Him as a verb–the source of action in God’s kingdom.  At the creation of earth, the Holy Spirit “moved on the face of the waters.” (Genesis 1:2 KJV) He is said to comfort, to instruct, empower, to intercede, inspire; to deliver peace, joy, love, and hope to God’s people–the fruit of His presence.  Also He translates our prayers into heaven’s language (Romans 8:26,27).

While I can’t see or touch His Person, I have heard His Voice telling me, in no uncertain terms, to go somewhere or to help someone–now!  I have felt His comforting arms about me during times of grief.  In church last week, He announced His presence by washing through me while the congregation sang “How Great Thou Art.” His distractors would chalk up my experience as nothing more than a wave of female emotion.  Don’t believe it!

He delivers our healing.  By Jesus stripes we are healed, but the Holy Spirit is the “verb tense” that does the actual healing.   Years ago, my speaking ministry was on the verge of collapse due to the bad case of asthma.  One night during a meeting, I stood next to my husband as we sang, “My Jesus I Love Thee,”  not a hymn I find particularly moving, and like a quarter back charging with the ball in his arms, a thud hit my chest, knocking me into my chair and emptying my lungs of air.   At first I couldn’t believe what had happened, but when my breath returned, my lungs were unclogged.

A word of caution: during the year that followed my healing, the great Deceiver tried to convince me to doubt my healing, that it was nothing more than an emotional outburst, that the condition would return.  It was only as I held onto my miracle–nothing wavering, as it says in James 1, that the Enemy finally stopped harassing me.  I am still asthma free, despite my physician’s claim that there is no cure for asthma.

So while I can’t describe the Holy Spirit’s eyes, nose or lips, I can tell you He is not my will-o-whisp or an imaginary friend, but a living breathing God-personality that I meet several times a day.  I walk with Him and talk with Him and He gives me the confidence to trust His love and to experience His power in my life.

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