© Copyright 2007 by Phil Scovell - All Rights Reserved
23 The Color Of The Holy Spirit Deep Purple By Phil Scovell A childhood memory bothered me. It didn't hurt emotionally, well, not exactly, that is, it wasn't a traumatic experience. It contained, on the other hand, spiritual discomfort that felt like pain, at least that's how it felt if I were to describe it, and I just did. Let me detail this memory so you understand what I am trying to tell about. We were in Danny's convertible, parked in the driveway, and the top was up. Danny and another teenage friend from high school, were in the backseat together, on their knees, trying to fix something near the back window of the car. I can't remember what they were working on any longer but with Danny's car, something was always in need of repair. Dan was always careful how he talked around the younger kids but his friend wasn't so accommodating. He swore, in other words, like a drunken sailor. He was, of course, just trying to be funny and we all laughed at his continual stream of expletives deleted. It made me, as a Christian, feel uncomfortable. Oh, sure, I heard plenty of "bad language," used by other kids, and adults, but this was to the extreme. In fact, he was using sexual terminology that I wasn't even sure I understood. Yet, everyone was laughing, my friend, Danny's little brother that is, and Dan himself. I didn't want to be left out, you see, so I laughed, too. The cussing swearing teenage boy who was helping Danny, got what he wanted, that is, he made everybody laugh, so he received the attention he desired and I suppose it made him feel important, too. What I should have done is gotten out of the car. I wanted acceptance, on the other hand, and plus, it wasn't just every day that little 8 and 9 year old boys were allowed to hang out with the big teenage boys. As I began saying, this memory returned many many times to my mind over the years but I never knew why. Not until recently. When the memory surfaced this time, I decided to find out why. Focusing on the event, I examined every aspect of the memory. There was not much there. I've already describe to you what was there and as I focused on the memory, I simply could not see or hear anything other than what I have already described. Yet, I felt uncomfortable. Something was wrong. So I asked the Lord to show me why this memory felt uncomfortable and what was wrong. "How did you feel," the Holy Spirit prompted. "Bad," I replied, "and like I was doing something wrong." "It wasn't your fault," He replied in my thoughts, "and you did nothing wrong. Besides, I was there and heard and saw everything." "Then why does something feel wrong?" I queried. "Because something was wrong," the Holy Spirit answered. "The teenage boy was talking in a very unholy way and it bothered you because you are a Christian. Christians should feel uncomfortable around such talk. Plus, words have meaning and effect upon the one hearing the words. I'm going to fix this memory for you." I was curious about all this because I never once considered anything specifically wrong in this memory. Except, of course, I shouldn't have been there. Although the Lord didn't say so, I'm pretty sure the Enemy was using this recollection to try and accuse me, that is, to indicate that I, as a born again Christian, passively complied and was a participant and was therefore guilty because I didn't speak up. Children, in those days, were taught not to speak up to those who were older. So, I remained silent. I wanted to belong. There was, therefore, a measure of guilt in this memory and thus the memory returned time and again to remind me, "You aren't a very good testimony because you laughed and didn't speak up for Jesus." Satan always lies and he normally mixes up some truth in the lie as well. Ask Eve if you doubt what I said. Waiting to see what the Lord was going to do for me, I mean, what could you possibly do with such a memory as this one? I figured He would just use words, or a feeling, to tell me, as He already had, that it wasn't my fault. Besides, he made it clear that He had been there the whole time so what more could He do. I soon found out. As I watched the brief memory, the compartment of the car filled up with an inky substance. In fact, the substance, although not like a smoke or foggy cloud, was more like some type of liquid, which was a deep purplish color. It filled every square inch of the enter compartment of the vehicle. It was more like purple jello. I was now standing on the outside of the car by this time, and looking inside the windows at the bodily shapes inside. Odd, though, I only viewed three persons now inside the car. I was outside looking in. The purplish inky substance, as I mentioned before, totally filled up the inside of the car but was opaque enough to barely allow the discernment of three figures inside. Blocked out were the filthy language being uttered and the vocalized laughter, which was silenced. "So?" someone is saying. "So, the memory had spiritual morphed into an exact reproduction of the event but now I was standing outside the vehicle. I could no longer hear the words or the laughter and I was no longer involved by being inside and feeling trapped and unable to get out. Plus, as I attempted to view the interior, the purplish liquid type substance not only fills the compartment but as it appears, the words are silenced and the people inside are only mentally identified and not truly seen. Well, the Holy spirit said he would take care of it for me and I guess He has. Praise God. Now, whenever this memory returns, I see what I just described and not the original event because the memory has been renewed. I am on the outside, no longer trapped or guilty, I no longer hear the words and feel the laughter, I no longer feel as if I were a participant, and I see what Jesus sees. 23 And be renewed in the spirit of your mind; 24 And that ye put on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness," Ephesians 4:23-24).