Author: Pat Vick
The Danger of Backsliding
It was one of the most tragic things I have ever witnessed. I was riding with my husband in the tractor as he carried round hay bales to our cattle. It was a cold and sloppy winter day. As we came through the gate, the herd followed along with the tractor, bawling their impatience with every step.
My husband moved the empty hay rings over several feet to more dry areas, and then lifted each bale high over a ring with the hay fork attached to the tractor, and set them down inside. The cattle began shoving their faces down into the delicious hay, pulling out big mouths full. They stood chewing in the cold drizzle with mud covered legs and frosted breath.
There was no pasture grass this time of year. The cattle’s survival until late spring rested solely on the hay delivery and their ability to get to it.
We sat in the warm tractor and watched them munch. We always spent a few minutes counting heads, taking note of whether a new calf had been born, and the general welfare of the herd.
It was only then that we saw it. The mud covered mound down a small incline from the hay ring’s previous location. We had assumed it to be a partially eaten hay bale that had been trampled into the mud. The horror of what we were seeing settled over both of us at once. My husband spoke the sickening words first, “I think that’s a cow!”
He got out of the tractor and slogged through the mud, waving the herd out of his path. He leaned over the mud coated mass to find she was still breathing…barely.
Cattle moving under their own steam can be tricky to get where you want them to go. When they are sick or weak, it can be even more difficult. It looked as though she had slid backwards in the mud where she couldn’t get the traction she needed. She had become mud caked in her struggle to regain her footing. The other cattle had quite literally walked on top of her to get to the hay while she got weaker and weaker from lack of food in the cold.
If she had any hope at all of surviving, we had to get her up out of the mud pit that she had backslid into. We had to get her eating again to give her body nourishment and warmth. My husband did the only thing he knew to do. He used the hay fork on the front of the tractor to lift and scoot her, as gently as possible out of the pit to a flat and dryer spot of ground. Even then, you would never know she was a cow under all that mud except for the periodic puffs of frozen breath.
I wish I could say that we saved her. We tried the best we could, but ended up losing her that day. Our best efforts weren’t enough. We were too late.
This painful memory always causes me to think of my Christian brothers and sisters who have left the faith, or at least put their walk with God on hold to pursue their own agenda. Wealth, Sports, Recreation, Fame.
Whatever it is they choose to pursue, they feel like they are at a safe enough spot to be able to come back to the God’s House whenever they choose, not realizing the precarious position they have gotten themselves into. They don’t realize these things they have chosen to pursue will eventually suck them down so deep that they can’t get back.
We much keep better check on those we love. We must keep them connected to the local church. We must make sure they are being fed the Word of God on a regular basis. We must be aware of tell tell signs that they are losing their hold on Truth, and their footing in the Kingdom of God. We must engage them in honest conversation, and insert ourselves into their lives consistently.
The only thing sadder than a Christian backsliding, is a Christian backsliding and being trampled by fellow Christians, just taking care of themselves, completely unaware that their brother or sister has fallen. God, help us to be concerned.
When Did “Fundamental” Become A Bad Word?
I bought a dictionary in the fall of 1985 when I started my first and only year of college. I still have that dictionary today. I used it to look up the word “Fundamental.”
When did “Serving as an original or generating source, Primary, Basic, Of central importance” become a bad thing? I’ve always thought being authentic, rather than fake, was a good thing, and something to be sought after and pursued.
If you are a bike rider, you want to ride a bike that has all the BASIC parts: Tires, Frame, Seat, Peddles, Handlebars, brakes.
If you go to a pet store to buy a puppy, you don’t ask, “Do you have any in the back, maybe one with a broken leg and only one eye?” No…You want one with all the BASIC parts!
If you buy a house, you want it to have all the BASIC parts: Footer, Floor, Walls, Roof, Windows, Doors, Kitchen, Bathroom, Bedroom.
If you must have surgery, you want your doctor to have all the BASIC knowledge, education, internship and residency.
Why is it that when so many people look for a CHURCH, they don’t mind it being a mamby pamby, wishy washy, anything goes, double minded, anyway you want it, quickshod, inkblot, quicksand kind of assembly?
COME ON NOW!
Shouldn’t we expect THE CHURCH OF THE LIVING GOD to be comprised of the ORIGINAL, Bible-based, Non-negotiable, BASIC PARTS???
And shouldn’t we expect that when we hold churches accountable to those BASIC INDICATORS OF TRUTH, that we aren’t labeled “FUNDAMENTALISTS,” as though it meant the same thing as HERETIC or BLASPHEMER or ABOMINATION?
-If Fundamentalist means that I believe the Bible is the infallible Word of God, so be it.
-If Fundamentalist means that I take God at His Word, so be it.
-If Fundamentalist means that I stand on Deuteronomy 6:4, “Here O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord” and NOT A TRINITY, so be it.
-If Fundamentalist means that I believe what Jesus told Nicodemus, Unless a man is born of water and Spirit, he cannot see the kingdom of God, So be it.
-If Fundamentalist means that I believe the basic plan of salvation that Peter preached on the Day of Pentecost in Acts chapter two is the New Birth that Jesus spoke of, so be it.
-If Fundamentalist means that I believe NO PERSON AFTER THE DAY OF PENTECOST will be saved and see the kingdom of God without being born again of the WATER (which is Jesus’ name baptism) and the SPIRIT (which is the baptism of the Holy Ghost with the evidence of speaking in other tongues as the Spirit gives utterance), SO. BE. IT.
-If Fundamentalist means I believe a Christian must live a sanctified life of HOLINESS, “without which no man shall see the Lord,” so be it.
People may look at me narrowly and say, “She’s one of those Fundamentalists. Basically, she thinks the Bible means just what it says, and God really expects us to repent, be baptized in Jesus’ name, receive the Holy Ghost, speak in tongues, dress, act, speak and live a certain way…and Oh, she doesn’t even believe in the trinity.
I’m sure those people will mean this description as an insult, but THANK YOU VERY MUCH, I will take it as a COMPLIMENT.
Are You Sure You’re Born Again?
POWERFUL TONGUES & INTERPRETATION
I SMELLED YOUR COLOGNE AGAIN TODAY FOR THE TENTH TIME, AND CRIED.
I smelled your cologne today, as I do at this time every year. I only take your shaving kit out once a year. It’s just the way you left it. Manicure kit, razor, bottle of prescription medication, a ziplock bag of discolored granules -perhaps epsom salt, and your cologne. I wouldn’t dare spray it. I can’t imagine the fragrance on anything or anyone but you. Ten years; ten sniffs.
I draw the smell in, and I am hugging you again. Ferociously. I am enveloped in your arms and plaid shirt. It’s always plaid. Even though you wore suits and dress casual attire so often, you liked to think of yourself as a rugged kind of guy. To be held in your arms again, if only in my imagination, is a delight. I notice your shoulders and arms are more sinew rather than the bulk they use to be. I think you’ve decided to get healthy in your mature years.
For a moment, my face is against your chest, feeling your heartbeat and the reverberation of your voice as you say, “Hey, Patty!” You were the only one who called me that, one of my many aliases, the evidence of being adopted at seven. There was no one nickname that stuck. Everyone just came up with one of their own for me. You called me Patty, or Sister, which you called both of us girls. When you said Patty, it had a softness to it, like a caress. I wish I could hear you say it again. I’m so thankful that I can still remember the exact way your voice sounded.
My mind drifts back through the years, picking up the special memories, and leaving the rest. Sifting the wheat, and gifting the chaff to the wind. Share on X
Remember when I was in junior high, and our class took a trip to the Capitol? You asked if a friend and I could go back to your office with you, separate from the group. I admit I loved the looks of admiration. I was a Princess for the day. Remember how I asked you to pose for a picture like you were taking a business call?
Remember when you took us yard selling and ran out of gas? Always pushing it to the very last thimbleful. That must be where I get it from. We had to coast down the hill, through an intersection, into the gas station.
Remember when Logan went to his first prom? I called you and told you, and you said, “And Mama’s a little sad,” and I cried. You knew exactly what I was feeling. There were two more proms that you never got to comfort me through. They were so handsome and beautiful. You would have been so proud. Your oldest grandson has made me a Memaw three times over. Three boys. Can you believe it? I wish you could bury your face in their bellies and smell their fragrance, just like I’m smelling yours.
Remember when you showed up at the office out of the blue? I didn’t even know you were in town. You took me out to eat, and bought me a milkshake. You reminisced about your days as a boy, seeming puzzled at where all the years had gone. You said, “I still feel like that little boy inside.”
You memorialized the dogs that you had loved as a boy, and talked about the one you had at the time, a schnauzer named Hercules. You said, “He’s the best dog I’ve ever had. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost that dog…I’m tired of losing people I love.” I knew it was more about the people than the dogs. Thank you for letting me glimpse your heart that day. I wish I had the time back to share with you the dogs…and people that I’ve loved and lost.
I should have known that day that something was amiss. You were always just so larger than life. I couldn’t see you any other way. Tough as nails. Invincible. Frank P.
Remember when I called, and you seemed distracted. You finally had to confess that you were at the hospital having a blood transfusion.
…A blood transfusion…
Suddenly, you were mortal, after all. Then it was a blur. Calling the siblings, and asking if they knew. No. You had decided to walk this path alone. Why do people think that’s best for everyone? We had hardly any time at all to say goodbye. To say, “Thank you, I love you,” or “How dare you?”
Hospice came.
Family came.
People I didn’t know came.
Death came.
We did have that one last special moment, ten years ago today. While breathing in the last breath you ever breathed out, I held your hand as you crossed over.
I smelled your cologne again today for the tenth time, and cried.
Warm Regards, -Pat
As always, please feel free to leave a comment, share to social media, email me: PAT@PATVICK.COM and SUBSCRIBE to my newsletter.
INVITATION TO SHARE
-How do you choose to remember loved ones who have passed away?
-Have you been successful at “sifting the wheat, and gifting the chaff to the wind” from relationships with deceased loved ones?
-What does this phrase mean to you?
IN THIS 22 MINUTE VIDEO, I TEACH FROM 1 CORINTHIANS 11 ON THE DOCTRINE OF UNCUT HAIR FOR LADIES.
Why I Haven’t Cut My Hair In Over a Quarter of a Century
As a junior in high school, I had never been introduced to teaching on the New Birth, Holiness, nor the doctrine of Uncut Hair for women. At that time, my hair wasn’t uncut, but it was considered long, hanging all one length, a third of the way down my back, with the exception of “fly back” bangs.
Even though I had worn my hair like this for years, immediately after visiting a Oneness Pentecostal Church for the first time, I had the notion to get my hair cut. Suddenly, I wanted a new look.
I remember sitting in the salon chair after I told the stylist how I wanted it cut with her looking at me in hesitation. She told me how pretty my hair was and tried to talk me out of cutting it off. I continued to encourage her to do her job. She stood with the scissors open against my hair and literally begged me, “Please don’t make me cut your hair.”
I remember the metallic shearing of the scissors as they came together, the dull tug of severing, followed by the slight spring back of blunted ends. Even though I would have never let the stylist know it, something happened in the spiritual realm at that moment. I would not have been able to understand it or explain it at the time even if I had tried, but I can tell you with certainty that something was taken from me in that chair. I felt it leave me just as surely as if it had been spilled out onto the ground.
When I stood up I saw a sight that is permanently etched into my memory. Layers of long, golden hair discarded in a full circle around the now empty chair. I paid for the cut, ran my hands through my now short layers of hair, and plastered on a confident smile as I walked out the door with a heaviness in my heart.
Another incident happened several years later, after I had experienced the New Birth. After being born again, I was eager to embark on a journey of discipleship. I enthusiastically embraced a life of Holiness and spiritual disciplines. When I read and understood the topic of women’s uncut hair in 1 Corinthians 11, I stopped cutting my hair.
It was during this time that a friend from my childhood was passing through and came to stay with us for a week or so. She wore her hair in a very short wedge cut, with the crown of her head a bit longer, gradually getting shorter to the nape of her neck, which she kept shaved.
One day in passing conversation, she commented that she hadn’t been able to get to the hair salon for a while, and the hair on the back of her neck had grown out longer than she liked. Would I mind shaving it for her? Now, mind you, I was completely sold out to the doctrine of women’s uncut hair, and had not cut my own hair in any way for several years at this point. Without even thinking, however, but just trying to be a help, I replied, “Sure.”
It was at that very moment that a searing pain shot through my chest, as if a hot firebrand had been plunged into my heart. I have never felt that kind of pain before nor after, and thankfully, it only lasted a split second. That was all it took to bring me to myself. It was only then that I realized what I had agreed to do, and that it had displeased the Lord.
I turned to her and said, “I am so sorry. I know that I told you I would, but I don’t cut my hair and I can’t cut yours.” Her response was understandable from someone who had never been taught 1 Corinthians 11, “Oh, I’m not wanting you to cut it! I just want you to shave the stubble at the bottom.” But I knew that stubble, if let grow, would be long hair. Beside that, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would be displeasing to the Lord. Again, I told her that I couldn’t do to her hair what the Word of God and my strong conviction restricted me from doing to my own.
I shared with her as much of 1 Corinthians 11 as she was able to receive at that time, but knew that the experience was more for me than her. In His mercy, God had a hair stylist try to talk me out of cutting my hair years before. He, also mercifully sent me a piercing reminder when He knew I had agreed to something in thoughtless haste.
So, just as the title of this articles claims, I haven’t cut my hair in over a quarter of a century, and have no plans to ever cut it. To the world, this may seem like a strange notion, and terribly lacking in any fashion sense. To me, and according to 1 Corinthians 11, my uncut hair is my GLORY, the SYMBOL OF SUBMISSION to spiritual authority, and my SOURCE OF POWER with the angelic host.
*Please see the ACCOMPANYING VIDEO on 1 Corinthians 11:1-16, the biblical teaching of the Doctrine of Uncut Hair as a symbol of submission to spiritual authority.
Your feedback is welcome.
Warm Regards, -Pat Vick
Let’s Move Some Mountains!
Have you been dealing with the same spiritual strongholds for years?
Do you need more faith to get the victory?
If you have been asking God again and again for more faith, with little or no results, it’s a good time to figure out where faith comes from. We can go to a familiar scripture to find the answer.
“So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” (Romans 10:17)
Is this all there is to acquiring faith, and more of it? If so, it seems simple enough. Go to church. Listen to the preaching. Apply it to our lives. Enter, FAITH…
Yet, there are people who sit in church services three times a week plus prayer meetings, read the Bible daily, and pray faithfully, who, apparently, do not have the faith to get victory over the situations in their lives. Maybe you are one of them.
There must be more. What are we missing?
In Matthew 17, a man brings his devil-possessed son to Jesus, only after he had taken him to the disciples, and they could not cure him. Jesus responded with frustration at what He called a “FAITHLESS and perverse generation.” He then rebuked the devil, which immediately left the young man. What did Jesus know that the disciples did not? What had He been doing that they had not?
Afterward in private, the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Why could not we cast him out?”
“And Jesus said unto them, BECAUSE OF YOUR UNBELIEF: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and NOTHING SHALL BE IMPOSSIBLE to you. Howbeit this kind goeth not out BUT BY PRAYER AND FASTING.” (Matthew 17:20-21)
From Jesus’ words, we understand that there are deeply entrenched spirits that cannot be overcome without prayer and fasting.
We have thrown a lot of PRAYER at our situations, which is needful, but FASTING is the missing element. Share on X
Our Oneness, Apostolic, Pentecostal, Holiness Churches are filled with faithful saints, loving pastors, great orators, anointed teachers, generous givers, and even powerful prayer warriors. Those same churches, however, have very few people who FAST with any degree of depth or consistency.
It is understandable, then, that our church families continue to be weighed down and oppressed by deeply entrenched generational spirits such as:
-Depression
-Anxiety
-Confusion
-Bitterness
-Rage
-Unforgiveness
-Abuse
-Addictions
-Poverty
-Disease
-Promiscuity
-Pornography
-Occult
-Suicide
On and on the list could go. What spirits continue to oppress your family even after years of consistent Word and prayer?
If we want New Testament RESULTS, we must practice Early Church DISCIPLINES. Share on X
A discipline must be practiced consistently to be effective.
Of all the spiritual disciplines, fasting is by far the most challenging. Yet, as we have already learned, it must be implemented if we are to be overcomers, as God’s Word assures us that we can be.
Flesh must be crucified. It’s the only way.
How much longer will we allow the same strongholds to keep us oppressed that oppressed our parents’ and grandparents’ generations?
MAKE A FASTING PLAN.
If you have never fasted, start small. One meal this week is a start. Two meals next week is progress. Three meals the next week is one whole day.
Here is a simple, long-term fasting goal to work toward:
1 day a week
3 days a quarter
7 days bi-yearly
21 days a year
Let’s move some mountains!
FASTING IS THE ANSWER.
*Please consult with your doctor before you begin any fasting regimen.
*Let him/her know of your plans to fast.
*Do not stop taking prescription medications without counseling with your doctor.
*Remember to drink plenty of water while fasting.
INVITATION TO LEAVE FEEDBACK
Do you have a testimony from a fasting experience?
I’d love for you to share it in the comments.
Do you have questions on fasting?
Leave them in the comments, and we’ll discuss them.
THE RESURRECTION & THE DEATH
Spring. New life. Hope in the air. Easter time. The resurrection heavy on our minds and hearts. That’s when the “The Incident” happened. So suddenly.
My brother and I were eight or nine years old. Our mom had gotten us each a baby chick for Easter that year. They were just so precious. Mine was pink and His was green. (That was before they knew the colored dye was harmful to their health.) They acted like they thought we were their parents. Running up to us and cheep-cheeping frantically to be fed, following us around the patio as fast as their little legs could carry them, and nestling close to our necks with their eyes closed as we cradled them. Our babies.
The primary care of our babies naturally fell to me, as I was the more responsible parent. Don’t get me wrong; Bryan loved his chick. He was a boy, however, and had other manly responsibilities. One of which was fighting wars by blowing up plastic green army men with firecrackers in the sand pile. The other was playing in the NBA with a nerf basketball and rim that hung off our parents’ bedroom door, in which he was all the players, the coaches and the crowd -for both teams, simultaneously.
(Insert radical crowd noises and eye roll here.)
Bryan loved to be on the go, and I enjoyed staying at home. So it was on this day when the accident occurred. He was gone to town with a family member, and I was going to spend a few hours keeping our babies company.
Our house was a brown brick, Spanish style, U shaped home, with a patio in the center. That’s where our babies lived in a cardboard box.
I thought I would construct a more suitable living quarters for our babies, instead of the crude cardboard habitat they were living in. It was going to be very sturdy. I used a heavy castiron fire pit grate for the outside wall. Nothing was going to get in to our babies. I played with them for a few minutes, maybe half an hour. Very proud of myself for being able to construct such sturdy living arrangements for the chicks.
As I stood up to go inside, feeling assured they were content and safe, I bumped the iron grate wall. That’s when it happened -the incident that made me a murderer.
It happened so quickly. I didn’t actually see the wall fall, but the aftermath is imprinted in my mind for a lifetime. I remember the colors mostly -green and red and pinkish brown all squished together like the inside of a marble. Apparently, baby chicks are very fragile. I had killed my brother’s baby. My own chick was chirping frantically, and eyeing me suspiciously.
While I was standing there in horror, wishing I could have a do over, I heard the car doors shut. Not only did I have to deal with my own heartache and guilt, but now I had to face my brother and tell him what I had done, all before the aftermath was even cleaned up
My brother probably hasn’t thought about our baby chicks and “The Incident” another time over the years. The fact that I’m writing about the incident over four decades later, should tell you how it impacted me. It was quite a heavy burden for a nine year old to bear.
I remember feeling shocked, frightened, horrified, regretful, ashamed, and sickened. Are these feelings familiar to you?
All of us carry burdens quietly throughout our lives. Burdens that weigh down our spirits unnecessarily. Jesus really is our Burden-bearer. He tells us in His Word that He desires to carry our burdens for us. He desires to give us rest in Him.
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)
The Apostle Peter sure knew a thing or two about carrying heavy burdens. After all, he denied the Lord Jesus three times after he declared that he would die with Him if need be. Never again has a rooster crowing sounded so heavy.
Yet, we see Peter on the Day of Pentecost preaching the keynote message of salvation and approximately 3,000 people being added to the Church that day. Just as Jesus had said he would have the Keys of the Kingdom, he used those keys to unlock the gift of salvation on that momentous day by instructing the crowd:
“Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. For the promise is unto you, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call.” (Acts 2:38-39)
In his first epistle, Peter eveals how he accomplished this.
“Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.” (1 Peter 5:6-7)
ALLOWING JESUS TO BEAR OUR BURDENS INVOLVES:
1. HUMBLING -God does not humble us. We must humble ourselves. This begins with true repentance.
2. CASTING -God does not take our burdens from us. We must exert the effort to “cast” them upon Him physically, emotionally and spiritually.
3. ALLOWING -God does not force us to move past an unloaded burden. We must choose to allow Him to carry it for us and move forward. This involves forgiving ourselves.
WHAT KINDS OF BURDENS DOES JESUS WANT TO CARRY FOR US?
1. Things that we have willfully done, said or thought.
2. Things that we have accidentally done, said or thought.
3. Things that we have unknowingly done, said or thought.
WHAT KIND OF BURDENS ARE YOU TRYING TO CARRY ALONE?
During this Easter season, my prayer, and Jesus’ great desire, is that you will finally take advantage of His sacrifice, and cast ALL your burdens upon Him.
I know from experience they can get extremely heavy.
Warm Regards, -Pat