Lessons in the Ladder Days

Candace Long: I'm Candace Long with Lessons in the Latter Days, offering biblical commentary to make sense of the critical times that we're living in. Today's topic is part two of God's call for repentance. Last week, I explained how the Hebrew calendar points the way to everything we need to know, to rehearse the very end of days leading up to the time that we stand before God and give account for our lives. I encourage you to listen to part one if you've not heard it so you'll have the proper understanding for today. You'll find part one on my website at candacelong.com under podcasts.

For the sake of time for today's lesson, let me explain that the 30-day period right before the kingdom begins is all about doing *Teshuvah*, which is the Hebrew word for repentance. Today, I want to give you more examples of the type of repentance that God loves. It is so much more than saying "I'm sorry." On the contrary, it involves deep personal conviction and sacrifice. Nobody can make you repent or try to shame you into it. That's not my intention here. *Teshuvah* has to come from inside you.

The first repentance I'm going to deal with today is racial prejudice. This is a very sensitive topic today, but it is very much on God's mind. One of the signs of being in the latter days is that right before the Lord brings human history to a close, he brings about justice for those who have wrongly suffered. Remember, God's word teaches us that the foundations of his throne are righteousness and justice. So, if a people group has had years and years of abuse, God will allow it to come front and center so we will each deal with it.

That's why the closer that we come to the kingdom, the more we will have to face how we have personally responded to the issues that God has not been pleased with. Just so you will develop a discerning antenna, I want you to notice the difficult issues that we have been dealing with in our culture because God is broadcasting these things on billboards and people are squirming. For example, the sexual abuse of women, the Me Too movement, human trafficking, pedophilia, the killing of the unborn, and mistreatment of people of color. These are just a few of the things that God hates.

Especially for those of us who grew up in the South, the issue of racial prejudice is a touchy one. I want to share my story of how the Lord began to bring this topic up to my awareness in order to do *Teshuvah*, and the ways that I have been led to make reparation in my own life. Let me just say upfront that I do not believe that any government can dictate how we treat one another, how we repent, or standardize the biblical concept of reparation. These things, I believe, have to come from within a person's own heart.

Some of my ancestors owned slaves, and I spent much of my time growing up in my grandmother's home where there were servants. I loved them dearly, but I had no concept of enslavement nor what African Americans went through as a people. But God had an assignment for me involving people of color, and it began in 1986 when I was inspired to write a Black musical called *A Time to Dance* as a vehicle to showcase undiscovered Black talent. I've written about this extensively in my books, but let me just say here that during the course of this 25-year journey, I was, unbeknownst to me, enrolled in a divinely orchestrated crash course in what it felt like to grow up Black.

I ended up going through a divorce, being a single mom, experiencing racial discrimination, family turmoil, financial challenges, widowhood, and having little affirmation from my father. The crowning blow for me, or from God's point of view, my graduation party, came at the turn of the century when the musical's premiere happened to fall on September 11, 2001, and I lost almost everything and was left absolutely broken. Ironically, the ones whom God assigned to pick up the pieces and pray me back to wholeness were women of color.

These were incredible women who knew how to flow with the spirit and sense God's presence in a way that many people of no color do not. In those early years, they took me under their wing and led me to a deeper level of worship. They are not embarrassed to burst into tears or shout hallelujah or fall to the ground when sensing an anointing from one who ministers in the name of the Lord. I realized this truth: some of us are the frozen chosen. In all of my proper Southern composure, I longed for whatever they had.

In 2005, the Lord led me to be mentored for about 10 years by an anointed woman of God, a multiracial woman of color, Dr. Elizabeth Hairston, founder of Women With A Call International. One of my toughest lessons in *Teshuvah* involved a conference that she was holding in Atlanta some years ago. To provide a little backstory, she had talked with me about a book on worship that she had been working on for years and asked what it would take for me to help her with it. My ad agency was over 25 years old and by then, I had produced 14 books for clients.

At this particular time, however, work was slow and frankly, I needed the job. So, I quoted her what I thought was a fair price. The first night of the conference, I had a very disturbing dream. In the dream, I was with my cousins in my grandmother's backyard. I looked down at my hands and arms and they were covered with boils, big pus-filled boils with squiggly blackhead-looking markings at the head. It was ugly. In the dream, I was very alarmed because this infestation was spreading and I had no idea what it was or how to get rid of it.

My younger cousins came over and took one look at my arms and said, "Ew, gross. Why do you have this and we don't?" That was a strange question, but my answer in the dream was even stranger: "Because I am the first issue of strength." Then I woke up. The dream troubled me all the way back to the conference meeting that morning. But two things were clear in my mind. Number one, there was something under my skin that was inherited, for the squiggly line was a DNA strand. I recognized it as such in the dream.

Plus, when I answered "I am the first issue of strength," that is biblical language for firstborn. This meant that whatever was wrong with my ancestors, I had received the strongest concentration of it since I was the firstborn. Secondly, this thing was endangering me. It would spread unless I dealt with it. These thoughts were hanging over my head and I was uneasy throughout the entire meeting. A pastor was speaking about comparing Elisha's devotion to Elijah to that of the school of the prophets who just wanted to get from the great prophet whatever they could, but they were unwilling to make any personal sacrifices on his behalf.

Then she referred to Dr. Elizabeth as our spiritual covering and that we need to have the attitude of Elisha, willing to serve her. I could not get home fast enough. Though I didn't have long before the evening meeting, I was under deep conviction. I fell prostrate on the floor and I asked the Lord to search my heart and rid me of this ancestral infestation, whatever it was. Holy Spirit began to illuminate what was under my skin, and it was despicable. He finally spoke to me. He was gentle, not condemning, but what he said I will never forget.

"My child, when you grew up, you were the served; Blacks were the servants. You need to repent for the prejudice in your ancestral line. I have allowed it to surface so you will see it clearly. It is no accident that I brought you under one of my choicest servants as a spiritual covering, a Black woman. I want you to serve her as unto me." This was ancestral sin at its core, and the Lord wanted it purged from me because of the calling that I was being prepared for in later years. I cried tears of repentance and I laid my ancestral prejudice and the pride of entitlement on the altar.

He was pleased, I guess, with my sacrifice because the burden of conviction lifted. During the evening service, I sat behind Dr. Elizabeth and at the end, I leaned up and I whispered, "Get your manuscript ready. I want to help you with your book. There will be no charge. It will be my joy to help you." Tears ran down her cheeks. We worked on her book for months. I interviewed her and wove those personal stories into what the Lord had taught her concerning how to approach him in worship and bring others into his presence.

I would never have gotten to know this woman of God up close like this unless I first learned to humble myself before him by serving her. Her book, *The Wonder of Worship*, is a testament to the Lord's blessing both her and me. I made not one cent on the editing and production of the book that took months to complete, but I wouldn't trade anything for the wealth of wisdom I received. Some of my closest friends and ministry colleagues are men and women of color. They see me as one who was called to walk in their shoes.

The Lord began giving me revelation beginning in 2005 into the unique calling that he has for them, especially during these latter days. I have written two books chronicling these insights as to why they have had to suffer so much as a people. The enemy has tried to destroy them over the years just like he has tried to do with the Jews. In fact, I write about the mysterious parallel between Blacks and Jews in my book *Letters to Aliyah: A Personal Journey of Generational Healing*. I believe there is a reason why the many injustices perpetrated against them are front and center in the news.

God has heard their cries for justice, and frankly, he is giving each of us time to reflect and search our own hearts and make reparation where he directs. During the protest marches that hit the streets of Atlanta in 2020, I reached out to a Black pastor friend of mine simply to let her know that I cared. I listened a long time to her pain for her people. What was interesting to me was that at the end of our conversation, she said, "You are the only one of my white friends who called to ask how I was."

I have been led over the years to do various acts of reparations. These are personal promptings between the Lord and me. This past January was the most recent. I had put together an entire course on my website called *How to Package Yourself for a Successful Launch*, which represents over 40 years of my life as an entrepreneur learning how to birth and manage business ideas. As I was getting ready to launch the course, the Lord reminded me that my ancestors were complicit in getting ahead in business, not even thinking about the slaves or the servants who didn't have the opportunities that I did.

He specifically led me to offer this course for free to African Americans for a specific time period. Now, I'm not trying to puff myself up here. I'm simply trying to stress that God was teaching me that he is watching how well I learn to serve those who had been servants to my family for so many years. One of the clearest mandates I have is to help encourage, teach, coach, and empower women of color to get to their destined place in these end times. Now, if you feel led to do some sort of reparation but don't know how, some suggestions might be to contribute to scholarship funds at Black colleges, contribute to ministries which help African Americans, or buy from Black-owned businesses.

Most whites come from places of privilege. In the days ahead, do not be surprised if we become the minority and people of color rise to positions of wealth and power, not by force, but by God's hand at work. This is his justice. We'll know it when it happens. And when it does, it will be important that we have learned to do *Teshuvah* and stand before him on that day as one who learned to serve. The final example I'll share of personal repentance was a particularly tough one which came after years of hurt and growing bitterness against church leaders.

My first husband and I were deeply wounded by three men of God early on in our ministry career: by the senior pastor and two of the leading elders in the church, all of whom have since passed away. Right after we were wronged, my husband and I became vocal in calling out the behavior, but nobody would listen. When we went to report the pastor's wrong to a leader in the denomination who was over the pastor we were accusing, we were told to our faces, "Don't make a stink about this. You'll be labeled a rabble-rouser and never get anywhere in the denomination."

We knew immediately where the problem was because this denominational leader was financially supported by one of the elders whose behavior we were accusing. He knew which side his bread was buttered on, and it was not ours. I cannot go into detail, but I will say that the behavior of this leader was instrumental in breaking up our marriage and sabotaging someone who had been called to serve God. Though I was innocent when the initial wrong was committed, I allowed the anger and bitterness of the situation to fester inside my heart.

After all, my own life had been shattered too. Here I was, divorced and a single mother, and I blamed these three "men of God" for everything that had happened to us. What I did not realize at the time was that I was being tested myself to see whether or not I would keep my own heart pure in order to serve the Lord as I had been called to do so many years before. It took several years before the Lord finally pointed his finger at the place in my heart where I nursed these wounds.

I'll never forget it. I was at a meeting with my second husband and our children. The speaker asked the crowd to bow our heads and ask God if there were anyone toward whom we held unforgiveness. I became very uncomfortable. I knew whose names were going to surface and for what seemed an eternity, I argued with God. "Lord, I didn't do anything wrong. Pastor so-and-so did. Why should I have to squirm like this? He's the one you need to put your finger on, not me." I'm sure God was smiling at my childlike behavior.

It took days before I finally surrendered my will to the Father and agreed to confront this issue of personal offense. Yes, God did hold the pastor accountable for his sinful behavior, but he held me accountable for the bitterness and unforgiveness that I had allowed to take root in my heart. This was arguably one of the hardest things I've had to do. One by one, I called the offenders and I asked to see them one at a time. With each one, I confessed the bitterness that I held against them and I asked them to forgive me for not seeking reconciliation with them sooner.

I cried. The meetings were not easy. But as is God's way, each one of these men had been prepared by God for my coming. They too asked me to forgive them for their part in what all went on, and we were reconciled according to the biblical mandate. The most difficult conversation was saved for last. My ex-pastor was heading up a church in a small town out of state and it took a while to track him down after so many years. Surprisingly, he was at home when I called. In fact, he had just returned from the hospital after suffering a heart attack.

His tone in hearing my voice was warm and friendly. As I had done with the elders, I confessed that I had held onto anger and bitterness toward him and blamed him for my marriage falling apart. I asked him to forgive me for keeping that bitterness inside and not approaching him sooner. His response had a humility to it that was different from my recollection of him. He too likely had been put through the refining fire, the kind of suffering that removes that hateful part of the flesh that looks down our noses on those other people who don't have their act together spiritually.

He and I cried together and he asked if he could pray for me. He prayed the most beautiful prayer that the Lord would restore the years that the cankerworm had stolen from me. He pronounced blessing on my life. That day, the weight of bitterness finally lifted off. As the days get closer to the kingdom, things are going to get worse. How will we respond should something horrible happen? God reminded me of a lesson that I want to share with you in closing. In 1970, I joined the music ministry of Campus Crusade for Christ.

I was thrilled at being chosen at the auditions, but something weighed heavy on my heart. My mother was dying of cancer. Following staff training, I went home to raise my financial support and the day was approaching when I was supposed to move to our headquarters in California. I kept praying for a miracle because I did not want my mother to die. The family decided to call in a nurse to stay with her and when the nurse arrived, she took one look at mother and said, "This woman is in a coma and needs to be in a hospital."

We were all guilt-ridden that we hadn't recognized a coma, and I thought to myself, "Well, this must be it. The Lord's going to take her home." After a couple of days in intensive care, mother came out of the coma and looked into my eyes and whispered, "How much longer?" I could only answer, "I don't know, mother, but I'm not leaving you. I'm staying here." And with every ounce of strength she said, "Absolutely not. The Lord wants you in California and that's where you're going."

The hardest thing I've ever done in my life was to leave her bedside, knowing I would never see her again on this side of eternity. A week after getting settled in California, my father called to tell me, "Your mother just passed away." I went off by myself and I began to cry and that's when I heard the Lord's voice and he said inside of me, "In everything give thanks." I responded, "What do you mean give thanks? How can I possibly thank you for taking my mother?" But I heard him a second time. "In everything give thanks for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you," which is a verse in 1 Thessalonians 5.

I struggled for perhaps a minute and then I bowed my head and I thanked the Lord that in his timing, he took my mother to live with him, that he gave me such a wonderful mother who loved and cared for me, and that her pain and suffering was over, and that he promised to be with me and watch over me. I can't remember the exact words, but I mostly remember what happened next. The peace that Jesus promised suddenly flooded my being. Flying back to Georgia for the funeral, I was taken to a different place with the Lord, for he began pouring out revelation from his word while I was sitting in the airplane reading my Bible.

It was as if he were sitting right next to me pointing out different phrases. Being a very new believer only a year old, I had never experienced his presence like that before. I actually began giggling to myself and saying, "The Lord is real." The Lord met me in this time of unbelievable sorrow because I stopped to give thanks even in the hardest times. If you'd like to refer this program to others, you'll find it under my podcasts on my website at candacelong.com. I want to thank you for sharing this time with me. Join me again next time for Lessons in the Latter Days.