There’s a really detrimental view of what walking out our faith journey with Jesus is suppose to look like; the American version of the gospel is that once we accept salvation, all will be rosy. But the reality is, growing in faith can be painful. And I want to be real and open with you about a current painful refining moment in my life. You might read this and recoil at the audacity of what I say out loud...but here’s the thing, I already poured all this out before Jesus and He still loves me. So I can lay out what is shameful about me because I don’t carry that shame anymore, He voluntarily took it from me when He climbed on the cross and let His blood flow for me.
Recovering from delivering twins has been hard, my hormones are still so wacked out that one month my hair will be dripping grease and the next my eyes are so dry I have to pour eye drops in them continually. I realized yesterday that my typical urge to cast myself and my physical challenges at the feet of the Lord has been checked within me...I am gun-shy.
Yes, you read that right, I am gun-shy about entrusting my health to the Lord. Meaning, I don’t trust Him with it.
Yes, I realize how insane that sounds. I have spent the last 15 years intentionally placing myself in the Lord’s hands. He has sustained me through the violent ups and downs of my health; He has healed deep wounds my physical weaknesses have inflicted on my heart and mind; He has gently tended to me in the ordinary needs and in the unusual; He has provided me with strength when I have had none and hope when I have despaired; he has even used my health problems as a bridge to salvation.
And yet, yesterday I laid down with my face to the floor and wept as this poured out of me:
———
i don’t trust you
i desperately long
to cast myself upon You
to rest my physical body
in Your creating, sustaining hands
with confidence
that You will
tend
and not break
pushed repeatedly
to the edge of despair
though You have sustained
my heart bears
the scars
of painful valleys
of dark nights of the soul
of endless days of waiting
looking to the hills
for help to come
and finding only
the rising and setting sun
i do not trust You
i weep at my doubt
ashamed that my heart lies wounded
when you have blessed
and carried
and revealed
through every moment
of bleakness
and dread
and fear
and floundering
i feel abandoned
entrusted to my own
helpless hands
holding nothing
but the realization that
my faith is too small
i know that You are
good present living kind
Healer Hope life
abundant safe Refuge
strength Redeemer
help my unbelief
help me step from
under the shadow
of years lost
and into the shadow
of years found
a crushed reed
i may be
but it is only the might
of Your hand
that can bear up
beneath the weight
of its fragility
Father
i long to rest myself in You
i long to feel my fear
dispel in the presence
of Your love
weak but unwavering
hoping but not waiting
content in my lack
and in my gain
———
Because here’s the thing, I just somehow endured a twin pregnancy. And yes, it was full of miracles, but it was literally my greatest physical fear and I had to look it in the eye and plow through it for ~240 days. I walked out of my first ultrasound honestly believing I would die. I had to feel the pain and strain of it on my physical body knowing I never even started with what was required to see it through.
And I’m gun-shy. I am afraid of what trials I may face within His hands. Because here’s the deal...I know that the Word says that “a bruised reed He will not break,” but I also know...KNOW...that sometimes the fact that the bruised reed doesn’t break is not because it has been given strength, but because He is kind enough to sustain it through the storms it must endure.
And maybe I’m really afraid of the storms in front of me...the sound of rushing waters hit my ears and I do not know if they are in my path or not. And I long to trust.
And Jesus, oh my Jesus. He is so tender with my sobbing mess. “Let Me bear those scars,” He said to me—faithless and broken and poured out before Him, “I have scars enough for you. The score your body keeps, let Me wipe away the marks of days lost and let Me write upon you a new score of days redeemed and days restored.”
And how can I not trust THAT love after all these years.
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