The Ugliness of Healing

JAMMED! It had happened a couple of weeks before…and the pain of it was so intense that I cringed simply at the remembrance of it…I had been barefoot. My feet were cold, and I thought wading my feet in a nice hot bath would prove relaxing and comforting. My left foot had already been plunged into the luxury of the steaming hot water in the deep porcelain tub, enjoying its revelry while it awaited its counterpart…but, the right foot never made it into the tub. As I lifted the final foot to join its partner, I must have slipped – the next thing I knew I heard a (((BANG))) ((CRACK))) and a sharp STABBING pain shooting up the top of my foot with intense ferocity! I looked down, biting my lip to keep from crying out – the two middle toes of my right foot were already bloating into 2 misshapen reddish balloons and a streak of blood began to ooze from the nail bed of one of them.

The weeks that followed had been excruciating. I was forced to wear an open-toed shoe due to swelling and discomfort, and I adopted an awkward limp, since the toes had lost their ability to bend. I had even wondered if the toes were broken at one point, as I considered their ever growing size and the ghastly shades of blues, blacks, and greens that enveloped their entirety, colors that crept up the top of my foot like a menacing ivy attempting to conquer an abandoned wall.

Now, a few weeks later, with chin rested atop my bent knee, I attended my toes – touching them ever so gently while I reminisced upon the whole ordeal. As I looked at my wretched foot, it amazed me that, although the swelling and colors seemed to worsen as the days passed, the pain of the injury actually lessened despite them. Moreover, my toes’ mobility grew with the passage of time even as they became increasingly grotesque in looks. In other words, the uglier my foot’s appearance, the more their healing ensued.

Couldn’t the same be said of our own journeys of brokenness and healing in this life? Think about it! Have we not all heard the saying, “it will get worse before it gets better”? For example, in a financial crisis, sacrifices must be made in order to come out of the red, correct? This might require a variety of uncomfortable abdications, such as the selling of precious items, the downsizing of living arrangements, even the loss of conveniences, like electricity, if the finances are to be “healed.” What about dieting and exercise, those New Year’s Resolutions we so gallantly profess? Those first weeks and months of working out and calorie awareness are nightmarish – the muscles so sore, you can hardly move, and your hunger so severe that your stomach feels as if it were beginning to eat itself. Then, of course, there are the relational issues. Saving one’s marriage often requires confrontations with oneself and one’s spouse that one or both parties would rather avoid, and there are often many nights when the opposite side of the bed is a lot colder than usual as a result. And what about illnesses that suck the lives out of our loved ones? Cancer seems only to be eradicated by the very thing that makes the patient’s condition apparently worse: chemotherapy.

If we were to take an inventory of our lives, we would find that many hardships that we have faced often took turns for the worse, becoming uglier and more discouraging, long before they began to show signs of improvement and healing...that is – if we allowed them to progress and not given up in the process. How many times have we stopped the course of healing based on appearances, rather than reality? How many people have ended up bankrupt, in a divorce, or relapsing back into their old ways of eating and sedentary lifestyles because they gave up based on the ugliness of their healing?

If we all were to give up in the face of the grotesque reality of every healing journey – we believers would not have the hope of our faith. The ugliest time in history was on the Friday evening of Christ’s crucifixion: the Creator of the universe had been viciously tortured, brutalized, and murdered in the public eye for all to see in both the natural and supernatural realms. The temple veil was rent in fury, the earth quaked in despair, even the sky blackened in its dismay as the Light of the World was snuffed out on the cross…

…and yet – at that very moment when the ugliest of gruesome realities was in full swing – the most beautiful healing commenced invisible to the human eye– our sins, the “jammed-ness” of our souls, were being removed as the direct result of Jesus’s horrific sacrifice.

But no one could see it – all they could see was the tragedy of this perfect man’s demise – but in another realm, underneath what man could see – the greater healing, forgiveness, was being purchased on behalf of ALL mankind. It was not until 3 days later that the natural eye was enabled to see the beginning signs of this inner miracle. Until the dawn of that Sunday morning, our spiritual healing was “incognito,” unnoticed – and only understood by the unseen realm.

If God had given up on the basis of Friday’s ugliness, we would not have the hope of our calling, which was birthed on that following Sunday. Healing is an ugly process, an ugliness that Jesus knows better than any of us. But if we will be patient and not give up our hope, braving the bruises and swelling of our own lives and hardships, we will begin to see the beauty of victory as healing runs its course. Healing may be ugly at its onset, but its result is everything that epitomizes the essence of beauty.

“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened, so that you will know what is the hope of His calling, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints… for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” (Eph. 1:18; Gal. 6:9)

The Womb of Time

Man, Americans especially, is obsessed with Time. Have you ever stopped to think about it? It consumes our world! We’re always running about like chickens without heads, ranting and raving, “I don’t have time,” “I’m running out of time,” “Time is money,” “I’ll have to find time to…” “I need to spend time…” “Next time I’ll” “I’ve got a lot of time,” “There’s no time…” When you think about it, most of our expressions, conversations, thoughts, activities all revolve around this dimension called Time.

And what about our concept of it? We feel trapped by it, condemned by it, blessed by it, propelled by it, controlled by it. Time monitors our paycheck, orders our day, looms over us with deadlines, annoys us with “moral” obligations, and laughs at us with age. Time is everything to us.

But, is our perception of Time really a proper conception of it? Do we elevate its power and dignity far above its original intention to that of when it was first given to us at the dawn of Creation?

“And there was evening and there was morning, the first day…” (Gen. 1:4)

We feel as if Time is the end all be all – we only have a short amount of Time on this earth, therefore, we must spend it well, live it to the fullest, accomplish all we can within this vapor called life. However, Time was never meant to be our lord to rule over us, though it is certainly a guide. Time is merely a seamless transitional state that is a part of eternity, separating us from the eternal until our birthing day into that timeless realm.

Consider the miracle of pregnancy. In the center of the womb, a new life is formed, growing, multiplying, forming. Unbeknownst to this little one’s knowledge, he is on a “Time Clock” – a 33-38 week period of growth, in which he will continue to fill out this small space of darkness, in which he was conceived, until his time of exit arrives. And so, he grows, exists, thrives in his own little world, completely separated from the world outside. And still, throughout his gestation, he hears muffled sounds, sounds that penetrate that wall of flesh, sounds, which he cannot comprehend, but sounds, to which he listens as they enter into his world. In addition, he feels the vibrations emanating from the outer world that make their way into the one, in which he lives. Sometimes there’s a light that penetrates his blanket of darkness, a light he does not readily receive, and attempts to avoid (the light of cameras and sonograms). This is his world, simple, confined, dark, and brief.

Take a step outside the womb, and you have the world, of which he will soon be apart. You have the mother, living her life normally, eating, exercising, working, and preparing the nursery with all kinds of colors, lights, sounds, the same sounds her child hears, but in full volume, sharp, clear, piercingly whole. She purchases toys, baby food, books, DVDs, and clothes as she readies the home for when her new babe exits his world and enters this new one. Then, there’s the father, excited, and greatly anticipatory, who pats her stomach, speaks to the little one on the other side of the womb’s encompassment, sending his own sounds, to which the baby jumps and kicks. This father also lives his life full of responsibilities, adventures, relationships, business highs and lows, all the while waiting for the birth of his son.

On occasion, mother and father take a moment to see their son through the sonogram: watching his movements, laughing at his expressions as he scrunches his face at this light that invaded his comfortable darkness. They see everything about this new life; things he does not even see about himself. They long to hold him, touch him, but are happy to wait until he is ready, ready and “ripened” to depart THAT world and come into this one.

Do you think that baby has any concept of the life on the other side of the mother’s stomach? Can he possibly grasp the world of lights, colors, sights, and sounds that are so much more BEYOND his world in the womb? Yet, even so, is he not part of that outside world? He may be separated from it, yes, but only by the flesh of his mother’s skin and tissue; is he still not apart of it, living in it within the walls of the womb?

So it is with Time and Eternity. While we are “locked” in Time, we are growing, forming, developing, getting ready for the life on the other side of the womb. Moreover, this life of Time is dark, small, and quiet. At times, however, we hear the faint muffled sounds of something more, beyond our comprehension, but we know it is there. It is the muffled sound of our Father’s voice, speaking to our hearts with endless love and anticipation of reunion. Perhaps, we may see a light that penetrates our darkness on occasion, a light we’re not too sure we like, since it is so different from our shadowy world, to which we are accustomed. And yet, we’re drawn to it, something about it seems familiar. They are the visions and dreams sent from Above, the “rhemas” of Truth revealed to us by the Spirit

Our Father looks at us from beyond the Womb: He sees our formation, laughs at our expressions as we attempt to “handle” the different small inconveniences that approach us in our tiny encasement. Meanwhile, the Father prepares our own nursery, gathering the items, activities, books, and feasts together, all in preparation of OUR birthing day, the day we leave our short Gestation of Time, and burst into the New Life of Eternity, for which we were formed.

We are only separated from that Eternal realm by the barrier of the Womb, a Womb, in which we would hope to remain only until our growth is complete. Everything that we face during this Gestation of Time – it’s all in preparation of the new life, for which we were intended. But like a baby, who dies to the world of his mother’s womb, and in birthed naked into this new world of Time, so we too will have to leave everything in THIS Womb, and be birthed with only ourselves on the other side of Time’s veil.

“Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart…may the Name of the LORD be praised.” (Job 1:21)

But just like a baby has his complete body, fully developed and ready for the start of a new life, so we will take with us OUR spiritual development, fully readied to enter into that new life of Eternity, for which we were conceived.

Time is not our master, Time is our Womb, and when we have fully developed, we will birth into the Eternal realm, for which we were made.

“For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made…. My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.” (Ps. 139:13-16)

Trust God and “Walk on Water”

(This is the second devo I wrote for the church project)

“‘Lord, if it’s You,’ Peter replied, ‘tell me to come to You on the water.’ ‘Come,’ He said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus.’” (Matt. 14:28-29)

“Jump! I’ll catch you!” Stacey was standing on the edge of the kiddy pool, her floaties tightly wrapped around her pudgy arms, her toes gripping the tile that lined the pool’s border. There was her Daddy, wading in the shallow water, not 3 feet from her. He smiled up at her beckoning her to trust him, jump in, the water’s warm, the sun is bright; she’d have fun! But this was Stacy’s first time to go swimming, and she wasn’t so sure…what if Daddy didn’t catch her? Would the water hurt? What if her floaties didn’t work? She bit her lip, eyes wide, brows furrowed, she tried to figure out what to do next, wanting to be with Daddy, but scared that the water would get her first…

Like Stacey, we will have times in our lives when we are called by our Father to do something new, something out of our comfort zones, and something that will force us to trust Him. But these new things are not always exciting: “what if?” becomes the name of the game: “What if I fail? What if I’m rejected? What if I lose money? What if I get hurt?” We grapple with God, wanting to do what He says, but not sure if what He’s asking us to do is worth the risk.

It’s all a matter of trust. Do we trust Him enough to know that He will catch us? Do we believe He would never call us to something for our harm, but only for our ultimate good? Sadly, most of us don’t. Our “what ifs” win the day; we take off our floaties, run back to the picnic table, and wait until it’s time to go home, satisfied that we narrowly escaped a certain disaster.

While some “what ifs” might be legitimate concerns, in the end, they only keep us from moving forward, preventing us from doing the wonderful things God intended for us to do with Him; thus, we miss an incredible opportunity to join God in something spectacular.

Look at what happened to the disciples. In the passage above, Jesus was seen doing something new, exciting, miraculous– He was walking on water! All of the disciples had an opportunity to join Him in this new endeavor, but only one took the chance. As a result, only one walked on water, experiencing a miracle in the company of his Master.

How about you? Do you trust God enough to jump when He beckons you? If He called you to do the impossible, will you step out of the boat, or will you allow the “what ifs” to convince you otherwise? Those, who trust their Father, will swim with Him; those, who trust their Lord, will walk with Him on water.