I was resistant to writing a blog post this week because I had a difficult week and didn’t feel like I had anything helpful to share. The Lord reminded me, in a not-so-subtle way, that it’s good to share in our suffering.
Thursday morning, I was running and felt nudged to write about my week and said to myself (and God), “Why would I share all of this negativity? It’s not going to help anyone. My thinking is unhealthy right now.” At the exact moment that this was going through my mind, my foot slipped on the sidewalk and my entire body smacked the cold, muddy ground.
Ok Lord, I hear You.
The Lord literally had me fall on my face before Him. I realized I hadn’t been willing to do this on my own this week — to come to Him, in my brokenness and weariness, believing He would hear me and care. As I got up, I kept running, “with perseverance the race set before” me (Hebrews 12:1). The Lord knows how much I love and pay attention to symbolism. He had my attention.
Talking about the Lord speaking to me through symbolism, let me tell you about how my week started on Monday.
The past couple weeks I have been feeling shame and regret for decisions I had made several years ago and the Lord consistently was waking me up in the middle of the night reminding me of His forgiveness, mercy and grace. When I am stubborn to listen, He tends to use abrupt events to get my attention.
I’ve been letting go of being vegan and decided to add lamb to my diet. I was sitting at my coffee table cutting my first piece of lamb with a steak knife, when it slipped out my hand. Dropping to the floor it landed standing straight up and as my right hand came down to meet it, the blade went straight into the center of my hand. Blood was pumping out of my palm. I was in shock and panic. I was alone. I couldn’t use my hand. I felt helpless.
As I was sitting on the ground, I felt like I was going to pass out. My body was in a full sweat, I felt nauseas thinking I would vomit, I lost my hearing, I could feel the light-headedness set in and my eyes begin to roll back. My heart rate went from over 100 BPM to 40 BPM. All of these symptoms were familiar. The last time I felt this way was in April 2019 when I flat lined in the hospital.
Praise God, that He sent my sister to show up at the right time, to bandage me up and prevent me from checking out.
Lamb.
Pierced hand.
Blood.
Death.
Sound familiar? I know, right.
Just to add a tickle, the fact that the flat line memory was in April. April is the month Easter is in and is also the month I began attending church for the first time as an adult, beginning my relationship with God.
Ok, Lord. You got me. I get it. Loud and clear. I am clean. You died for me. I am Yours.
I was very shook-up on Tuesday. I felt re-traumatized and thought it was about what happened in 2019 so I had an EMDR session on Wednesday, in efforts to process and heal from this memory. Much to my surprise, EMDR didn’t go as I expected. It did bring me back to being in the hospital room but what followed was memories throughout my life when I felt like I was alone, and didn’t matter. My brain came all the way forward to present day, when at times, I feel alone during my quiet time in the morning with God, like I don’t matter to Him, that He doesn’t hear me or doesn’t care. Then my brain went all the way back to being a toddler, holding tightly to my baby doll. But where it ended was so surprising and sweet. A memory of being held, nursing at my mother’s breast. The memory was so vivid I could feel the warmth of her skin against my cheek.
This morning I was reading Jeremiah 33. It says that the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah when he was still.
“Call to Me and I will answer you and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know.”
Jeremiah 33:3
Jeremiah 33 goes on to say
“Behold I will bring health and healing. I will heal them and reveal to them the abundance of peace and truth.”
“Behold, the days are coming, says the Lord, that I will perform that good thing which I have promised.”
I sat with the Lord’s words to me and thought about how in the womb we are connected to the source of life, then as a baby we stay connected for nourishment and safety. As we age we drift off into independence but I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to be. The Lord wants to hold us, nourish us, be our Source, but like the toddler, we want to assert our new found independence and say NO!, wanting to do it on our own, or at least thinking we can or ought to.
This morning He reminded me that I matter to Him and He has sent people to be His hands and feet, to show me His love. It’s not so much about who He sends and me mattering to them, but about other people being representations of His love.
I received a seemingly random text this morning from the South African pastor I met at the South African embassy that said:
“You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what the Lord promised.”
Hebrews 10:36
My difficult week ended with my scarred right hand lifted in worship and taking communion.
The scripture being read was Romans 5:8,
“But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
Before we chose God, He chose us.
Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of man, have mercy on me.