Fuel Me For Your Purpose

Last week I shared how the Spirit of God showed me an image in my mind of a match being struck as I prayed with a friend on my birthday in June.

Do I really know it was the Holy Spirit?

I do. This is often how He interacts with me. It has happened so many times that I’m keenly aware and take note of pictures that flash across my mind when I’m thinking about something unrelated or when I’m praying.

What did I do with that image?

I took note of it: I hid it in my heart. I didn’t decorate the house with it, google it, or tell everyone. That would be silly since it was just like a piece of a bigger puzzle I had not yet seen. But I cherished it and kept it close in case there was more to come.

Now to back to my story…

It was the first of July, the one-year anniversary of my husband, Lee Gaupp’s,  memorial service. It was a good day in the fact that I was functioning great, no longer in an extended POTs flare. I was enjoying the physical freedom of moving around again and the joy that came with it. It was early afternoon when I realized what I needed to do, “I need to bring Lee’s ashes home.”

A family member had stepped in when the funeral home released the ashes, keeping them until I was ready. I was strong both emotionally and physically on this day and was propelled to immediately do this thing I had dreaded. It seemed right, I did well.

Less than an hour after I returned home the mail came. The letter I waited for finally arrived from the social security administration. I quickly opened it and my heart dropped when I read their decision to deny income to me a second time; the survivor benefits from my husband. Grief, anger, injustice, and offense… instantly rose up within me. I recognized the feelings and saw them at a distance as if waiting for me to give in to them.

I just stood there, with the letter in my hand for a split second before I said, “Lord, let this fuel me for your purpose.” Then I lifted the letter and waved it saying, “use THIS to fuel me for Your purposes!” The intensity of injustice shifted gears somewhere within me, and I no longer felt like a victim. I was empowered. This determination was unjust, no doubt. But I am in God’s hands, and He deals with me justly.


Thanks for clicking in and joining me here. This post is 2 of 3. I’ll share the rest of this story in my next post. Until then, let’s give God permission to use our circumstances to fuel us for His purpose!
— Tami Sorenson Gaupp

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