Sorry I Haven’t Written…
Prayer has always been a challenge for me. I have never been a particularly social person, and even in terms of personal relationships I often fail to maintain my side of the social construct. I am too comfortable with silence and too easy in my own company. So, though I have a relationship with Jesus, I often do not sustain it with extemporaneous communication. Part of the problem lies with the feeling that when I talk to Him it should be in a formal setting with defined parameters. It has occurred to me, though, that I am much better at writing than I am at small talk – not that talk with God is in any way small. Also, like many people, when I pray I start with an opening “Dear God” and conclude with “Amen”. This works, but I don’t typically organize my thoughts in advance. I believe prayers should be spontaneous, but spontaneity has never been my strength. So, I start with “Dear God”, throw in everything and the kitchen sink in a disorganized jumble, and conclude with an “in Jesus’ name, amen”. Because I haven’t prepared, I frequently recall topics I wished to bring to Him in prayer after I had already concluded my prayer. In considering this conundrum, I remembered that years ago when I planned for dates with who would become my future wife, how desperately I strove for for spontaneity. Since spontaneity didn’t come naturally to me, I would rehearse a week or day ahead how our dates would proceed, so that on the day I knew what I would do, where I would park, what I would say so that it seemed spontaneous. Although it was rehearsed, spontaneity would have been far worse. Similarly, on those occasions when I would write her a letter, I would go through several drafts. This had the advantage of producing a more polished finished project, but it also left me with a record of what I had said. Perhaps this was a factor of living on the spectrum, but it worked for me and helped me, if not to overcome, at least to conceal my weaknesses. In this recollection, I am reminded of the Apostle Paul noting that God’s strength is made perfect in weakness.1
RecalIing this, I realized that the weakness I sought to overcome should perhaps be recognized as a gift that could enhance my relationship with Jesus. The process I relied on before could be used to show Him the same attention and planning that my “spontaneous” prayers lacked. So, dear God, sorry I haven’t written…
Dear God,
Thank You… for your love, for your faithfulness, for each breath You lend me, for the friends and family who contribute to my happiness and to my understanding, for my pastor, for the body of Christ that has welcomed me. Thank You… for the pain, for the challenges, for my stumbles, for the sadness, for the joy. From Your word, I am convinced that we are near the end of the age, but even if I am mistaken, I am aware that I am near the end of my age. Even so, Your enduring grace has sustained me and made me more whole, more complete, than I could have ever achieved by my own efforts. That realization compels me to pray that You might do the same work in the lives of my family. In my youth, my arrogance and pride led me away from Your path, yet You sought me and guided me back. Lord please smile on my son and daughters and grant them the same kind guidance which You have shown to me. Open their eyes that they might see You and follow You. I pray, too for my friends and those special to me. In this public place I will not name them, but I trust You to know my heart. Although some may have hurt me, they are all precious to me. Continually create within me a new and clean heart that allows me to love them as You do, to see them as You do, and to witness to them as Your Holy Spirit would direct. I am too often empty and spent, but You continue to fill me again and again. Thank you. Although I long for the day I will see You, I am grateful for the strength You lend me and the faithful manner in which you continue to shape me. Keep working on me Lord, even as You reveal Your power and glory in the simplicity of my life. I love you Lord, and it’s in Jesus name that I pray, Amen.
1 2 Corinthians 12:9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Come Quickly, but Maybe Not Today
Zohran Mamdani sealed Iran’s fate. With his election in New York, it became apparent that not all of the American people carefully weigh their sacred right to vote. They will blithely vote based on promises that objectively cannot be fulfilled and ignore the obvious dangers and risks that spell disaster. They will glibly get on a bus that promises they’ll arrive an hour earlier, ignoring that the key to its speed is its lack of brakes. It reminded us of the electorate that twice elected Barack Obama, despite a declining economy and a failed foreign policy, in pursuit of hope and change.
Barack Obama spoke fondly of the Muslim call for prayer and disguised his antisemitism as merely anti-Zionism. He implemented America’s participation in the JCPOA, knowing that it would not prevent Iran from gaining a nuclear weapon, but would merely prevent it from occurring on his watch. As an aside in the same deal, the United States funded global terrorism by delivering pallets of cash to the mullahs in Iran. How much blood is on the hands of America by turning a blind eye as we discreetly funded the global intifada?
As Alexander Hamilton warned us, the mob is too easily swayed. If we failed to address Iran now, there was a high probability that we would elect a leadership that will reinforce Islamists worldwide. We entered this action without the overt support of Muslim states such as Saudi Arabia, France, Qatar, UAE, and the UK; but with the clear support of western nations such as Canada and Australia. If we waited, how many more western nations would become Islamist? Would ours be among them? The Bible suggests that we are in the end times. Jesus tells us “Behold, I come quickly1”. Notwithstanding, as Christians we have an obligation – not to hasten the end, but to forestall it as long as possible. Each day presents a further opportunity for someone to accept Jesus. God would expect no less of us.
1 Revelation 22:7 Behold, I come quickly: blessed is he that keepeth the sayings of the prophecy of this book.
Sufficient Unto the Day…
As I write this, I am assuming that my brothers and sisters in Christ are still around to read it (not that they do – Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they miss). I posit this as many have forecast that the rapture of the church would have occurred yesterday on September 23. That so many would presume to make such a prediction despite Jesus having said no one knows the day or the hour1, it serves to remind us how selective many of us are in our reading of the scripture.
Notwithstanding, I am grateful that it did not occur. I’ve always been somewhat fearful of the rapture – of being caught up in the air2. My fears are personal ones – I don’t like heights and I’m afraid that there might be a weight limit. Having visited Legoland with my daughter, I was surprised that every ride had a weight limit that I exceeded, though they were happy to take my full price of admission without the advisal that my presence would only be supervisory. I imagine the rapture occurring while I am working in the yard – a flash of light, perhaps, and as in the movies my clothing being left in a heap next to the weedwhacker. But, as I am carried up to perhaps 30-35 feet, I imagine my lift subsiding and plunging back to the earth. While the world marvels at the disappearance of the church, I am later found, naked, scratched, battered, and bruised amongst the rose bushes and bougainvillea. So, I am sincerely grateful that no one knows the day or hour, most especially me. I can focus instead on keeping my heart ready and repeatedly visiting the gym to lessen my weight and my fears.
We live in a fallen world – don’t look at me, it was fallen when I got here. Despite that awareness, it still shocks us when evil people do evil things. I once worked in a jail, processing detainees in and out, and it opened my eyes to the realization of how blind I was. I had always assumed that evil people – murderers, rapists, robbers, and other sundry criminals; would look evil. But it was the banality of evil, the banality of both their appearance and their manner, that was both shocking and terrifying. My comfortable confidence that their villainy would be easily recognizable was shattered and I found myself reluctant to engage with faces that seemed familiar, as I could never be sure as to on what side of the bars I had previously encountered them.
But as evil befalls the righteous and unspeakable acts are perpetrated by the heretofore seemingly innocent, I take comfort in the sure and certain knowledge that the world is safely in our Lord’s hands. I will trust in Him (still working on the weight-limit thing, though). Jesus admonished us in Luke 12:34 “Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Accordingly, sufficient unto the day is the good thereof. I will be grateful for each day lent to me and trust Him for his faithful provision.
1 Matthew 24:36 But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.
2 1st Thessalonians 4:17 Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.
The Witch of Endor
The witch of Endor1 recently paid me a visit. You may recall that she was the necromancer that King Saul visited so as to confer with the decidedly departed Samuel the prophet. My visitation was by someone who possessed similar powers, but arrived at my door with an awareness, a foreshadowing if you will, of my needs and desires.
Such is the nature of such an encounter that it is accompanied with shock, surprise, pleasure, and apprehension. Yet, I found that the pleasure and surprise outweighed the shock and apprehension and I found myself enraptured by the enchantment of the moment. Unlike King Saul, my experience was longer lasting but similarly memorable.
She has now long since departed, but the aftermath persists. King Saul came specifically purposed to consult with Samuel, but I possessed no pretense in my encounter. The spirit she summoned during my visitation was not a deceased prophet or soothsayer, but was instead… me; and I find that I have been haunting myself since her departure.
1 1 Samuel 28: 8-25
The Haunting
A ghost from before appeared at my door
Triggering memories that pierced to my core
And as resolve crumbled among thoughts uncontrolled
My heart once more ope’d to that specter of old.
The years had been brutal to that visage now scarred
With piercings and tats that left beauty marred
Poor judgment and choices in that face once so fair
Now mute testimony beyond human repair.
And so we conversed re our union now dead
And I lade her with gifts from the past that she fled
Thoughts that she shared caused my ardor to fade
Reminders of words and of vows now betrayed.
The ghost then receded to mists of the past
Leaving memories only in shadows now cast
Promises made as she left on that day
Promises broken as was always her way.
What does Forgiveness Look Like?
Addressing an issue from the past, someone suggested that I had never really forgiven them. My response of “yes, I have” seemed inadequate, so I thought it important to explore further. I realized, then, that I did not actually know what forgiveness looks like. My simplistic assumption was that forgiveness was simply not holding someone to account for past transgressions. Not revisiting the pain or the shock of past events, while looking forward with a clean slate. But for better or worse events and actions of the past, good or bad, are part of our story and belongs to both of us. So, it belongs to both of us to tell, but with grace not to hurt or injure, but to recall and perhaps from which to grow.
I then look to the forgiveness of God… of the sacrifice of Jesus. I know that my sins are forgiven – were forgiven before I committed them, through the sacrifice of Jesus. We are told that it is the blood of Jesus that washes away our sins. I’ve sang the hymns about a fountain filled with blood and heard countless sermons regarding the power of the blood. But how might I forgive someone else? How might I be forgiven by those (too many I’m sorry to admit) that I have wronged. I can’t follow God’s model, as bloodletting would be too creepy and not be appreciated by anyone. I then consider the passage where we are told that God casts our sins into the deepest sea.1 As far as my family is concerned, we’re not remarkable swimmers, but we are proficient deep-sea divers as far as the wrongs of others are concerned.
So, if I remember, how do I forgive? I believe God’s example is simpler than we realize. It’s not the spilling of blood that forgives sin, but the love that inspires that sacrifice. Like God’s sacrifice, it must be offered and accepted by both parties. The Bible tells us that if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.2 Similarly, we are told to confess our sins one to another.3 Such is our earthly forgiveness. We respond to one another with love in answer to our confessions. It doesn’t change our histories; it doesn’t remove the scar; but instead, it cleanses the reality of consequences with love – love that doesn’t weaponize the past nor rewrite the narrative. Forgiveness is a mutual endeavor in terms of both giving and receiving.
So, revisiting the question of the first paragraph – yes, I have forgiven. I deeply love the person to whom I gave that forgiveness and it remains my prayer that they can accept it – and extend their forgiveness to me.
1 Micah 7:19 He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our iniquities; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.
2 1 John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
3 James 5:16 Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed.
At Least I Didn’t Choose Job…
There is a temptation (a prideful one in my case) to draw parallels between your life and the experiences of characters in the Bible. I confess to having had these tendencies, but I realize now that I have to step back and resume my role as a humble ant skittering across the surface of God’s creation. That said, I am not Hosea. God never asked me to marry a woman of easy virtue, nor did he tell me to repeatedly overlook / forgive her infidelities. The choices I made were mine, shaped not by pious devotion but rather by love. Love, they say, is blind. I never gave too much thought to that aphorism, but I now can correlate it with the reference in I Corinthians 13 where Paul notes that “now we see through a glass darkly”. What I saw is what I wanted to see, allowing my desires to shape the vague shadows into a clear vision of perfection. I will never cease to love that person – deeply and irrevocably, but I have slowly come to terms with the truth and the reality that the person I loved so dearly never actually existed.
Yet, thanks be to God for the gift of the limited clarity I now enjoy. I can say with some certainty that the reality which was thrust upon me by events has allowed me to arrive at a place of liberation, unbridled by false illusions cloaked in pain. Even with illusions so dispelled, I can comfortably treasure the memories and recollections that include that person I loved so dearly. I recall having once been counseled that divorce is like a death, which I countered by suggesting that it was worse than death, as in the case of divorce the dearly departed didn’t have the decency to be dead. In my case, though, I now see the wisdom of that comparison, as the person whom I loved and thought I’d lost never really existed. Like an imaginary friend from childhood, she is gone; leaving memories only of a relationship that was shaped by love and shattered by reality.
So, how does one forge a path into a new relationship? Having taken tentative steps, I find myself self-sabotaging by looking for a person who is like the former, all the while forgetting that my recollection of that person is not true. Like looking for a new friend, just as real as the imaginary friend you had before, it does not promise to be a successful endeavor. Seeing the truth, though, is liberating. I don’t have to imagine a parallel with Hosea, meaning I can release my Gomer and move on with my life. I have always said that I can have any woman that I please, so here’s to hoping that I can please one more. God is good and God is faithful. God breaks chains, but it is our responsibility to walk away from our captivity.
Waiting for a Better Moses?
A judge once told me that I have a “gift for the obvious”. Although he meant it as a slight (he was always a bit of an ass), I’ve remembered it and have come to claim his assessment as a positive trait. When I started this blog, my goal was to limit my entries to those related to my journey of faith and pointedly avoid any political commentary. However, the Holy Spirit keeps reminding me of the words of the Apostle Paul when he said “we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places”1. I’ve always interpreted that verse as referencing powers beyond our world, but I have come to understand that the “spiritual wickedness” can be present in those who play an ongoing role in our daily lives. Much of my enlightenment I attribute to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. But also I have to acknowledge the influence of those in the media such as Dennis Prager and Bill O’Reilly. The latter openly states that our government is corrupt, but as an objective journalist hopes for the best as our nation circles the drain. Perhaps most, I have to be grateful and thankful to God for my “gift for the obvious”.
So, employing my gift, let’s review the obvious.
Moses was a seriously flawed man. A murderer no less. When he came to deliver the Israelites out of Egypt, many distrusted him, many did not want to be delivered – and certainly not by a man like him. The children of Israel came into Egypt under the protection of Joseph, an Israelite himself and whom God had placed in authority in Egypt, second only to Pharaoh. The Israelites came into Egypt as a free people and their freedoms were protected. We are not told of the slippery slope they went down, but we next see that Egypt’s memory of Joseph was forgotten and the Israelites are now slaves in Egypt. Perhaps they were willing to give up their liberty for the promise of food and housing. Perhaps laws were put into place to ensure the Israelites safety from the tyranny of the unknown. Perhaps their leaders protested the erosion of their freedoms and were imprisoned or killed for insurrection against Pharaoh. Those details are not shared with us. However, the history of slavery has taught us that the cruelty of enslavement is not the same for all of those who experience it. On the lowest level, we find those who are constantly under the lash. At the highest level, we find those who are granted privileges and prerogatives. These often are afforded the freedom to make decisions about those beneath them and frequently wield the lash themselves. Perhaps the higher-ranking slaves were chosen by those beneath them to foster the illusion of self-determination. These were people in need of a deliverer, though not all could see this. And what of the taskmasters and overseers? Surely, they saw the growing unrest and dissatisfaction and cunningly sought to identify some PC (Pharaoh’s choice) individuals in whom the Israelites could place their hope and trust.
Today, many Americans would say that we are in need of a deliverer. We were a free people, having shaken off the yoke of foreign domination and established a new nation on a new continent. Are we still a free nation? If not, when did our freedoms begin to erode? The Civil War represents a turning point. It has been characterized as the war between the states and the war to free the slaves. Remember, though, that history is written by the victors. It could be more aptly characterized as a war against the states, or a war to redefine and broaden slavery. Setting aside the abomination of slavery as it existed before the Civil War, we would repeatedly congratulate ourselves as being a free nation with a government existing by consent of the governed. In 1860, though, many people by and through their state governments withdrew their consent. This was not acceptable, though, to the federal government. Indeed, the federal authorities viewed the union as a one-way affair – you could check-in, but you couldn’t check out. So, the federal government conscripted an army from the remaining states to compel consent by force.
In the 20th century we’ve seen a further erosion of our freedoms. We have a national police force, founded by a corrupt transvestite, which now casts a jaundiced eye on anyone who too openly diverges from the government-approved narrative. We have a judicial system that conspires with the executive branch to quash dissent and imprison anyone who questions government-sanctioned corruption. We have a legislative branch that functions primarily to protect its power and enrich its members. Anyone not aspiring to or currently wetting their beaks in this trough of corruption would agree that we need a deliverer. In response to the discontent of our people, our Constitution affords us the opportunity to select a new leader for the federal government. We are provided with a slate of PC (politically correct) candidates to choose from, and there is little concern regarding the choices we might make since nothing will change.
But in 2016, something happened. A candidate came on the scene who was not PC, but was deemed so outrageous that he was given media attention and praise to ensure that the PC selection would have an easy path to victory. But those in power failed to see that although Donald Trump was a seriously flawed man, a narcissist, an adulterer; these were not disqualifying to a people hungry for change. They were confident that he would be dismissed as completely unacceptable, once they focused their media machine against him. What they failed to understand was that the people did not like where they were, and were looking for someone to take them out, to deliver them, from their situation. They didn’t grasp that when people are looking for a bus, the past failings of the driver are largely irrelevant.
But perhaps there is a better Moses waiting in the wings. Perhaps if we wait we will find a more acceptable alternative. I’m sure our vote will not be diluted or negated by the millions being invited in. It is a cause for prayer, and for the comforting truth that times are unfolding according to God’s plan. Having read ahead to the end of the book, I’m comfortable with the outcome. Meanwhile… the door is opening and I can hear the driver calling All Aboard!
1 Ephesians 6:12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
The Journeys Toward Life and Death
My wife miscarried early in her first pregnancy. This was a tragedy. My sister delivered a stillborn full-term baby girl. This, too, was a tragedy. Tears were shed after each, but the magnitude of my sister’s loss was comparatively far greater than that experienced by my wife and I.
I don’t know what lives either of those children might have led, but I sometimes imagine how our lives and the world might have been changed had their promise and blessing been fulfilled. Their journeys to life, though, were interrupted for reasons known only to God. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord… and blessed be new life with all of the hope and promise of the future. New life comes to us at the conclusion of a spectrum of blessing that begins with conception and is fulfilled with the delivery of that new life into the world. For some though, that journey can rapidly change to a spectrum of tragedy with a new life being aborted. Not by a doctor or any human intervention, but rather by the unknowable will of God.
Regardless of whether you walk in the Light and Life of Christ and accept His gift of salvation, or whether you follow another path, our time on this plane of existence was never promised to be easy. Similarly, the journey to life is often echoed by the journey to death that many of us have witnessed and may experience. As disease and decay take their toll, the body begins its inexorable decline until it can no longer accommodate your spirit. It represents a spectrum of hope for those who have trusted Jesus, and a spectrum of tragedy for those who haven’t. In either case, it is ended by the unknowable will of God.
Secularists would remove God from the equation, suggesting that it is simply letting nature run its course. In doing so, they allow themselves the liberty to intervene in nature’s progress so as to exercise their will in lieu of that of a higher authority. This changes each of these spectra to a spectrum of horror. The magnitude of the horror swells or ebbs at the time chosen for intervention. Intervening on the day after conception is a far lesser magnitude of evil than intervening on the day of delivery. Intervening on the day after diagnosis of a terminal illness is a far greater magnitude of evil than intervening on the day life is slipping away. You see, the horror grows when intervention comes closer to the fullness of life. Horror takes the place of tragedy when evil acts presage the abortion of life. And with the horror comes guilt.
Remember always that no depravity that man commits surprises God, though I am certain that our choices often grieve His heart. Remember that at the time of the crucifixion of Christ there was only one person alive on the earth. Everyone else was dead in sin and trespasses. The depravity of man in killing this one man, Jesus, overshadows everything we had done before or since. But in killing this one man, we washed ourselves in His innocent blood and bought our deliverance from all our depravities.
We live in a fallen world, though in a world imbued with hope for a coming and brighter day. I cling to that hope, and so it is that I pray that we would zealously guard the spectrum of blessing that is fulfilled in new life; despite the possibility of tragedy that it holds. It is why I also cling to the spectrum of hope as old life ebbs. I would not allow my will to supersede the will of God and I condemn the hubris of anyone else that would so presume. For those who would create or defend a spectrum of horror, I pray that their consciences would be pricked to limit their interventions to when the magnitude of the impact of their evil act is least. I take solace in knowing that nothing can thwart the will of God and that He will judge evil.
Curating the Gallery
Even as we move forward in our lives, it is important that we look back occasionally as the past and our understanding of it establishes our trajectory moving forward. In my own life, I realize that I’ve fashioned my own private gallery wherein I’ve framed the events and vignettes in a manner most conducive to justifying where I am and why I am the man I am in the moment.
Shakespeare wrote that “the evils that men do live after them; the good is oft interred with their bones”. So it has been with my gallery. I had an entire wing dedicated to the wrongs that I’d suffered, the injustices, the slights. I could stand in front of each and marvel at the evil displayed with a subconscious sense of pride for how well I had fashioned the frame in which I displayed them.
Enter the Holy Spirit. No one else enters my gallery but I, but the Holy Spirit insisted that I share this part of my heart with Him as well. I confess to being ashamed at the revelation of my handiwork, as it did not comport in any real sense with the handiwork He is working in me. So, it has been that I’ve spent no small amount of time curating my gallery – breaking frames, relegating some works to the ash heap and re-framing others in the context of gratitude.
The Bible tells us that all things work together for good to them that love God and are called according to His purpose1. For me, being called according to His purpose is not to presume that I am another Moses or a prophet, but rather just another sheep responding to the Shepherd’s call. In understanding that, I understand that I am precisely where God wants me. In understanding that, too, I understand that everything in my life has worked to deliver me to this moment and I am grateful. It doesn’t matter the intentions of others, what matters is God’s purpose. Even when I had strayed, God was there. Jesus suffered immeasurable pain and suffering because of my repeated stumbles and misdeeds. If He doesn’t hold a grudge, how can I?
And so it is that I add one more shingle to my resume. I am also a curator. As I walk the halls of my gallery, I watch for those pieces shaped and purposed by the Artist of all creation, while I keep an eye out for those fashioned by the con artist that had previously dominated the collection. The collection is thinning, but the theme is becoming ever more explicit – God is great in His mercy and His grace.
1 Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.
Schrödinger’s Cancer
I recently completed 6 weeks of radiation to treat a cancer that was supposed to have been resolved with the removal of my prostate. The surgery had already dashed one of my life’s goals – to exit this world with all the parts with which I arrived. Notwithstanding, it seemed a prudent decision so as to forestall an early departure. But I digress. With the completion of the radiation, I am now in a nether world of uncertainty. I return to the doctor at the end of next month at which time I will learn whether or not I still have cancer. I’ve referred to my present state with my daughter as Schrödinger’s cancer because, like the cat he postulated, the present state of my cancer will be unknown until viewed. If, like the cat, viewing affects the result, I strive to remain positive in hope of gaining a positive result, though I don’t recall a positive attitude playing any role in quantum mechanics.
The challenge for me in doing this is that I am not entirely certain I either want a positive outcome or if I believe that more time on this earth is God’s will for me. Life has always been a tenuous affair – amazing in the miracle of its existence and frightening in the reality of its fragility. That the mutation of one gene can result in such extraordinary changes boggles my mind. I reflect on this when I consider the miracles that Jesus performed during his earthly ministry. When he directed the man with the withered hand to extend it and then made it whole like the other, what was happening? I don’t believe that Jesus considered bone structure, tendons, arteries, veins, and capillaries while healing this man, but yet all of these were healed. When Jesus raised Lazarus from death, He not only addressed the cause of Lazarus’ death, but also the decomposition that followed. When God created man, He created him whole. He didn’t first draft instructions and then put us together like a model kit – Hmmmm, Let’s see… I’ll add the arms later… No, He created us whole and complete.
I’ve often wondered about Lazarus, post-resurrection. I am confident that if he previously had a limp, he no longer did. If he had lost a finger in a threshing accident, the finger was restored. Jesus was the Great Physician – He did not treat symptoms, He restored. Jesus did not say “I think I can make it better”, He made it new. He healed the lame – they did not hobble away with their miracle, they walked, ran, or danced away. He healed the blind – they did not squint and struggle to find their way home, they went boldly with clear vision.
As I consider this, my mind selfishly wanders back to my own situation. Jesus could heal me. In fact, He already may have healed me. But His purpose in performing the miracles He did during his earthly ministry was to bear witness as to who He was, not to preserve flesh. Jesus told us that God is a Spirit and must be worshipped in spirit1. So, as we strenuously cling to the flesh that shrouds our spirits, it is important to remember that God places us here in this world for a season, and that season is in furtherance of His purpose. Just as I wouldn’t pray that God stay Summer and Winter that I might enjoy a longer Spring, so I wouldn’t ask for more days than he has willed for me. When Job said “though He slay me, yet will I trust Him”2, that was a statement of total submission and certainty that God would preserve and deliver him beyond the confines of his earthly body.
So, regardless of the result I may experience, I praise God and thank Him for His goodness and mercy to me. My positive attitude rests in the certainty that His will shall be done, regardless of the outcome.
1 John 4:24 God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.
2 Job 13:15 Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him: but I will maintain mine own ways before him.
In a dry and thirsty land 