Delivered. Sealed with His Spirit. Forgiven, therefore forgiving.
The aroma of Christ wafting through an unbelieving world. A letter from Christ, written with the Spirit of God onto the tablet of a human heart. My heart.
Transformed from last week. From yesterday. From this morning.
A treasure in a jar of clay.
Afflicted, perplexed, persecuted and struck down, but not crushed, despairing, forsaken or destroyed.
Renewed.
Oh Lord, make it so in me.
Two viruses. Individually weak, but powerful when combined. Organ-attacking, antibiotic-resistant, and having a rip-roaring good time inside of me.
But aren’t we all, in some way, under attack? Maybe not from a bacteria on steroids, but definitely from the Enemy and from the temptations of our own sinful nature.
Fortunately, I was at the doctor’s office with my son the day this virus exploded in angry blisters on my shin. Blisters that erupted and covered my knee and lower leg in a few short hours.
The doctor cautioned me with words I wish I could pull out of my ears and forget.
Words like: Resistant. Urgent. Deadly.
What if God’s plan for my life includes illness? A serious illness? What if it includes hospitalization? Maybe death?
But the great Physician is always with me. I know He is able to provide physical healing, if He desires. And I rejoice that He is even more eager to do the bigger miracle of forgiving my sin.
Matthew 9
English Standard Version (ESV)
Jesus Heals a Paralytic
Sometimes, like the scribes, we are so blinded by the physical circumstances that we miss the greater miracle. With that in mind, I prayed a hard prayer—not my will God, but Yours. And I waited for God to do in my life what He planned before the beginning of time to do.
I praise God that the antibiotics worked and I am now symptom and blister free. I also praise God that He has done the bigger miracle and forgiven my sins and healed my spiritual sickness. Sickness that would have ended in eternal death and separation from Him, had Christ not intervened.
Another plan that God put into place from the very beginning.
Praise God indeed.
Life has a way of bringing even the strongest person to their knees. Inconvenient health surprises, upset children, and stress can undo even the best, high energy, and most positive person.
Totally.
And that’s where I am. Undone. On my knees. Completely overwhelmed. But let me tell you, the view from down here is astounding.
God has hidden slivers of pure joy in the chaos. In opportunities to extend grace, offer forgiveness, and find the colour lurking behind the black and white. And when I find those slivers, life explodes in a rainbow of pure joy.
Joy in drawing closer to God despite overwhelming uncertainty.
Joy in surrendering my plans for His; my will to His.
Joy in allowing God to reveal the many things that I struggle to carry. The very things that He wants to carry for me, if I’d let Him.
I’m learning that motherhood is both the most important and hardest role I’ll ever fill. And I’m learning to circle back to grace and find those precious moments of joy.
I’m learning more about the hugeness of my sin and the constant battle between my own sinful nature and the Holy Spirit.
I’m learning that I have a lot more to learn. A lot more.
And just when I think I have a handle on it all God peels back another layer and I see my smallness in contrast to His greatness with fresh eyes.
I have barely scratched the surface of who God is and what His plan is for my life, and how it can all be pure joy, if I let it.
It happens so fast. One second everything is fine. The next, everything is wrong. In the space of a single heartbeat I am far from where I want to be.
Voice raised. Temper flared. Blood roars.
Feelings hurt. Misunderstood. Friendships rent.
Selfish heart. Burdened mind. Weary soul.
God whispers between the rhythmic throbbing in my chest.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Oh, my stubborn sin. There is no excuse that makes escaped words acceptable. No amount of tears can take back what is done in haste. Yet, God remains. In-between each heartbeat. Whispering softer words.
Beloved, my Son died for this sin. Accept His sacrifice. I am not surprised by this sin. Acknowledge your need for a Saviour. I love you, and if you repent, I will see you through the lens of My Son. Forgiven. Clean. Redeemed.
And my heart beats faster.
Truth, in all His glory, confronts the depths of my failures and loves me anyway. In the space of a single heartbeat God draws me close. Like a parent comforting a child. My ear presses against His chest and listens as his heart beats for me.
Sometimes the road is hard and requires believers to set aside their rights and their desire to be proven right, to ensure that God’s name is glorified. It’s something our daughter has done in the past—more than once, and I sit here amazed at all our nine-year-old has taught me.
Kaitlyn has taught me that things don’t always unfold the way you plan. Sometimes others win, and life isn’t all about me. She has also taught me about sacrifice. About looking outward rather than inward, focusing on others and their needs instead of her own.
Her message echoes the message God whispers to me. He calls me to pour myself out and minister to others by His strength and for His glory. Right now, that might mean going above and beyond my responsibilities to serve someone else. Maybe someone who wronged me. It might mean allowing someone to take advantage of my generosity because it serves a greater good. It might be as simple as keeping my mouth shut and letting it go.
Whatever it is.
As I struggle to do that, I remember Kaitlyn, and her simple belief that God will complete what He starts. And then something wonderful happens. The hard way becomes beautiful.