Continued from pt. 1 -- "Hand over the gun." I have not been able to get these words or this book out of my head. I just spent the last 20 minutes searching for this book so I could read these words again almost as if I needed to remind myself that they really were true. But I didn't want to.
Nor have I wanted to face some of which I know is true about the pain I just want to ignore. The pain that by His grace the last few days He has been helping me to not run from, but address.
For pain doesn't whisper, it shouts.
It demands our attention; it demands to be dealt with.
Not later, but now. And just as the pain in my tooth last week hurt, that pain was not bad.
I was reminded that "pain is a signal."
It alerts us to the fact that something is wrong. And just as I would not have gone back to the dentist just a few days after a root canal on a different tooth if it had not been for the throbbing pain on the other side of my mouth, I realized on the way there that there this strange feeling that I have never had driving to any sort of medical/dental appointment before.
A feeling of hope. I feel hopeful and confident that they will find something wrong, I remember thinking. I felt confident that I was in good hands. Working with people who have been able to find something wrong every single time I see them.
My heart, I soon realized after I had texted a few friends to pray, was filled with hope. Even what I sent out to my friends was different. I asked them to pray specifically for them to find the source of the pain. I was able to freely ask that which was really on my heart, please pray that they find whatever is causing the problem, and I had a confidence that normally is only in my God, but one that was in God AND in the medical professionals I'd be seeing.
All of a sudden, the pain wasn't bad.
It alerted me to the fact that something was wrong.
I knew something was really wrong, after living for nearly two years with chronic pain, I'm able to access pain at varying degrees and with dental pain especially, I know when something is not just a "toothache," but when something is seriously wrong. I could feel it with every fiber of my being and felt good I was taking myself in rather than trying to tough it out and hope another dreadful toothache would go away and not become a nightmare like all the others.
Had I not been in pain, we wouldn't have found new infection attacking my body, and just like all my other root canals, today as I had broken down in tears for the second of third time as something else I was processing hit me like a ton of bricks while I was trying to make lunch, I realized, the (physical) pain wasn't bad.
Without it, we might not have found it. But, it had to be dealt with, it HAD to come out. For it was destroying me.
Same with my emotional wounds and pain. The wounds that though many have been reconciled and dealt with are still there.
I haven't gotten all the infection out of there. And just because I want to pretend it's not there doesn't change the fact that it IS still there.
And just like the infection, is an invisible enemy threatening to destroy me. "Hand over the gun," again I am told. "Will you trust me?" "Will you surrender?"
Surrender to all that I can't yet know or see but that I know I have to do. My unwillingness to face the infection, just as if I had ignored how badly my tooth was hurting and didn't go to the dentist that day, it wouldn't have changed the fact that there was still something wrong.
Something that had to come out.
Something that my body was trying to alert me to the fact that something needed attention.
Me ignoring it or suffering through the toothache wouldn't have made the infection any less real. Nor lessen its debilitating effects.
We all have times in our lives when we know something needs to change, we need to change. But we don't like it because change is hard. It hurts, it is difficult and it is painful.
And we know it is going to require something of us that we cannot fully even comprehend, predict, or see, but know it will require something we don't have right now and that is scary.
Yet, it is those very caverns between what we know we must do and what we really want to do where we know we are faced with a choice. One much bigger than it at the surface even seems. One we know is a battle for our hearts.
Where we can choose to trust and rely upon our weapons of self-protection and false security, or in the God who is trying to free us from them. Yet, it is never just that easy. But we have a God who knows our struggles and our weaknesses, who says, it is OKAY to be weak. For we need Him, I need Him. And without His grace I wouldn't be able to even consider taking the steps out of the safety net of my comfort and security and trust Him with all I don't want to face but know I need to deal with, face, and change. A process and change that I cannot do on my own. But one that forces me to rely and depend upon Him. The only One who has to power and ability to heal, restore, and transform my heart.
Earlier this morning I found myself again in tears in amazement that this same cross that crucifies me is also the same instrument that gives me life.
This cross I hate, I also bless.
This cross I don't want to carry anymore, at the same time I cling.
This bitter cup of suffering I spit out, I also have to drink deep.
This God with whom I wrestle, I also deeply love and cannot live without.
This God who has held all my tears today, held me in my anger, frustration, sadness and disappointment as He gently whispered words that again reminded me that it is "this very loneliness that throws us back onto God," this loneliness of grief that He is the only One who can fully see, know and understand the depth of all that is happening and all I grieve, struggle with, and face.
A realization that is at some moments heartbreaking, devastating, unfair, isolating and maddening, and at others, is strangely comforting, as He asks me again to hand over the gun, to relinquish my "weapons of false security," repent from my brokenness and sin, selfishness, stubbornness, self-protection, and pride and to simply come. Come undone. Come to Him. For it is there in His presence where I find again anew I am loved. I am held. I am fought for. Precious. Redeemed. I am seen. I am known. And most of all, I am received. By the One who loves me as I am. The One whose promise gives me life.
::
Yes, You are my Jehovah Jireh.
My God of great faithfulness;
My God of unfailing, everlasting love.
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