The other day, while reading a chapter of The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, I came
across a term called: the “Law of Undulation.”
The context was that human beings have an undulating
relationship with everything and everyone, including their relationship with
God. And by not realizing this “law,” when we are in a “trough,” as Lewis expresses
it, it can lead a person into depression, or complacency.
I was intrigued, because I was in the middle of a “trough,”
and had been there for a discouraging month. So, wanting to be clearer regarding undulation’s meaning, I
looked it up.
Undulate: “To move in
waves or with a smooth wavelike motion. To increase and decrease in volume or pitch.” (New American Heritage
Dictionary)
After that, I was reminded of a phrase from the Message
translation the Lord used to encourage me during another “trough” a few years
back:
“Learn the unforced
rhythms of grace.” (Matthew 11:29)
A stirring appreciation enveloped me as I received a new
understanding that life truly is a series of undulating experiences; wavelike
motions moving me back and forth, and
up and down relationally, for the purpose of teaching methe unforcedrhythms of His grace.
Then, I flashed on the first week of creation. How God demonstrated
the “Law of Undulation” quite nicely. Those first seven days were nothing but sweet
wavelike motions emanating from Him while He spoke night and day, earth and sky,
evening and morning. He established the law of ebb and flow. And He created me
in His image.
What’s more, when sin did enter the picture, He didn’t
change His mind. Ecclesiastics 3:1-8 makes this clear:
“To everything there
is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, and a
time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck what is planted; a time to
kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time
to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…."
And when Jesus arrived on the scene, He continued modeling
the same unforced rhythms smack dab in the middle of the brokenness, assuring
me I can do the same.
Yes, sin did mess with conditions, as well as my perception of
this “Law of Undulation.” However, my being aware that this was God’s design, it is His way of being, and it still is His will that I reflect the same, will
better equip me to move more freely while learning the unforced rhythms of
grace. And it will help me guard against being lead into the smothering heavy
of depression, or complacency during my “trough” times.
“And He took him aside from the multitude, put His finger in his ears,
and He spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, He sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,”
that is, “Be opened.” (Mark 7:33, 34 NKJV)
Prior to this verse, Jesus had gone to the region of Tyre
and Sidon. Having arrived there, He goes into a private home wanting “no one to know.” But, it says, “He
could not be hidden.” For a Gentile woman, having a demon-possessed daughter,
found out where He was and persistently begged Him to heal her; cutting short His
privacy. (Mark 7:24, 25 NKJV)
Now He’s traveled back through the region of Decapolis, where previously
His fame exploded where in the midst of seeking solitude and rest, the multitude pursued
Him and He wound up spending the entire day healing and feeding 5000 plus people.
Now, while looking for space again, He has yet another
multitude hot on His heels begging for healing. He heals. But in the midst of it,
when they bring a deaf/mute to Him, He curiously “took him aside.”
Why?
According to Matthew’s account this wasn’t the only
person with a similar issue. What was different? Why the unusual treatment?
And why does Mark’s record add that after Jesus spits and
puts His fingers in the man’s ears, He looks up to heaven, and sighs?
The word sigh in this passage means: to make, or be in
straits; to murmur; to pray inaudibly, with the connotation of grieving or
groaning. It’s the same word used when it speaks of the Spirit’s groanings in
Romans 8:26:
“Likewise the Spirit
also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we
ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which
cannot be uttered.”
Here’s what I think.
Jesus is tapped.
He’s
dog-tired and doesn’t know how to pray for this one, even though He’s been
healing many to this point. Once again,
rest and the need for quiet have eluded Him.
He’s had to deal with power going out of Him during ministry;
and He’s weak and speechless. And in that
place, Jesus looked up to heaven, and breathed a groaning prayer: He sighed, and
the man was healed.
What an encouragement!
Although I haven’t been in the place of administering
healing to thousands, I have given of myself, been past tired, and in need of
solitude, just to have it interrupted, time and again.
And my Jesus, being 100% human when He walked this earth doing
all He did, says to me in this passage, “I completely understand weakness and
the need for solitude. Keep following Me. And when you are worn out, and have
no words, look to heaven, breathe a sigh, and watch what I will do.”
“Be strong and of good courage…do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for
the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:6-9 NKJV)
During my most recent visit in this passage of Scripture, the
timing of the command jumped out at me. That prior to Joshua chapter one, the
phrase had only been given twice: The first being, when the twelve were sent to
spy out the Promised Land, Moses simply commanded them to, “Be of good courage." (Numbers 13:20)
And the second was in his last words prior to his death, as the
children of Israel were preparing to enter the Land. There Moses repeated it three
times, and added the words: “Be strong.” (Deuteronomy 31)
Then, in Joshua chapter one, while on the verge of
possessing the Land, the Lord reiterated it to Joshua – again, three times.
It got me thinking. Why would God save this specific command
for the Promised Land? Why would the children of Israel need to present this
kind of muster?
God promised He would give it to them, already rife with
everything they would need, or want. And not only would it be given, but He
promised after they were there, He would be with them, prepare their way, and
give them instruction as to how to they were to proceed.
So why be so emphatic
regarding strength and courage?
For one, there were giants. Real giants. And those giants,
along with the other people groups, being heavily armed, weren’t going to
simply hand their properties over without a fight. And two, the cities were seriously
fortified, having thick impenetrable walls. Like Jericho, the city they would first
encounter. Its walls were said to be 25 feet tall and 10 feet deep.
Those two reasons alone were enough for God to have to rally
them with the command.
However, I believe He saved this particular charge for a deeper
purpose. Although He would keep His promise of giving them the Land, His modus
operandi of giving was not theirs. They
had an important part to play in the conquest.
After hearing His instruction, the children of Israel were
to carry out every detail precisely as God said – such as silently marching around
the 25 foot walled Jericho for a week, then yelling and blowing trumpets on the
last day.
Then there was the time He gave the order to simply sing and praise Him, while standing by and watching, three allied forces annihilate themselves instead of attacking Israel as threatened. Or another time, while being thoroughly outnumbered, again, He
commanded them to merely break a bunch of clay pitchers and do some more
hollering.
Or, and in my opinion, this being the crème-de-la-crème: on
more than one occasion, God charged them to obtain favor from their enemies by
“just” praying.
No wonder He saved, and repeated: “Be strong and of good courage.”
But what’s that got to do with us now?
The truth is God has given each of us a “Promised Land” –
individually and collectively. And just because we don’t see the giants and
fortified places with our physical eyes, does not mean they are any less real, dangerous, or formidable. Scripture speaks of us wrestling with evil and
powerful forces. And it states clearly, the devil is like a roaring lion and
thief desiring to devour, rob and destroy the abundant life God promised.
But again, I believe God gives us the charge today, for the same
deeper purpose He did Israel. Although the Land’s been given, God’s method of
giving is not ours. We have an
important part to play in the conquest, as well.
We also are to listen to God’s instruction then carry out every detail
precisely as He says. And it may well be things like: silently marching, or breaking
a bunch of pitchers, or singing and praising, then standing still and watching;
or dare I say, “just” pray?
With commands like these and engaging an enemy we cannot
see, it's no wonder we will have to present the same kind of muster.
So, “Be strong and of good courage.”
Oh yeah, and “… do not
be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
Teasing in the corner of my eye, Offering peripheral visions, Knowing That what can’t be borne in sunlight May still be known in shadow. “Sometimes we can come to know a thing only by averting our gaze, by not shocking it with the full force of our looking…”
“…God longs to be courted, to dwell in a mystery that keeps us aching to touch the skin beneath the shadow.”
Thoughts and ponderings of paradox mill much in my mind these days. One of the most intriguing to me is how those who celebrate the mystery of faith (The crux: “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again”), embrace a truth that is an intangible tangible. We can’t touch or physically hold this faith, but we see its rays of light radiating strongly in darkness from those who believe in the mystery of God. Faith in this mystery that is our Creator, Redeemer and Friend, sustains those in grief and loss, gives hope to those who can’t see beyond the next bend in life as they wait for guidance or healing, lends meaning and significance to unanswered questions, and cradles in love those who desire and know the depth of God’s love for them.
Right before Thanksgiving my husband Steve and I attended the celebration of life service for Paul, the husband my dear friend Deb, who I've known for over 35 years. Their daughter, age 20, and son, age 16, and Deb knew that their father and husband walked in the mystery of this deep faith. He died way too soon of brain cancer at age 58. Trying to dissect this or look at it head on, the “why?” questions can’t be answered or given justice that makes any sense. But the “edge of faith” allows us to see from a different angle or point of view—perhaps seeing with “peripheral vision” into the truth that the Holy Spirit reveals. As Jan Richardson’s poem says, “That what can’t be borne in sunlight may still be known in shadow.” I think this shadow is the vision of faith, akin perhaps to “seeing in the dark” or "looking outside the box." Though the mystery of who God is, remains "in light inaccessible hid from our eyes," vision through faith can illuminate more clearly. Both Steve and I each have one eye that has lost clarity of central vision. Steve, due to a huge floater right in the center of his eye, and myself, as I wait the repair of a macular hole surgery. We both however, have better peripheral vision. I resonate with Jan Richardson’s poem and prose above. She is the third person in just three months to proffer that we can see the stars better by looking through our peripheral vision (out of the corner of our eye) than straight at them. The conundrums of life that bring questions which can’t be answered or fathomed by looking at them straight on or with scientific lenses, may be given light by looking at it from the "periphery" of faith vision. Of the hundreds of people who gathered for Paul’s service and celebrated the mystery of his faith, I doubt that any of us clearly yet understood why he was taken at this time from his family and friends. But we share in whom he believed and we “court our God” with thanksgiving as we know he will reveal enough light in the shadows to allow us to see enough.We ache and yearn to touch God, the skin of Him in person. We rest for now on promises of hope in the unseen, with the mystery we call faith.
The other day as I was reading in Ephesians, the thought
struck me that this small letter was the only written information the burgeoning
church in Ephesus had. One little scroll of truth was to be passed among the believers
directing their journey in their new life with Christ. It wasn’t that I had never
been told this, but the “ah-hah” caused me to stop and ponder.
One small letter, containing small prayers, tiny phrases and
praises of truth, written by an imprisoned individual, guided by a still small Voice.
And with that scant information individuals and families, as well as the church
itself, flourished and grew. In fact, one source credits the Ephesians church
with playing “a significant role in the spread of early Christianity.”
But to complicate, during that time, the city of Ephesus was
one of the largest cities in the world; a huge metropolitan civilization in western
Asia Minor teeming with multiple religions, politics and commerce. And to
better appreciate the power in all “the small”, Ephesus was also the site of
one of the Seven Wonders of the World: the Artemision – the worship temple of
the Greek goddess Artemis.
Interesting. One small Holy Spirit inspired scroll, written
from a prison cell, sent to a remnant of new believers enveloped in an imposing
pagan metropolis. And by allowing a snippet of truth to permeate them, this tiny band of believers greatly assisted in the increase of the gospel Jesus Christ.
I wonder what would happen if a remnant of believers in a not-so-big-mountain-town
in southwestern Colorado allowed the same small letter, with the same small
prayers, tiny phrases and praises of truth to infiltrate their lives. Would
that be enough for the eternal Holy Spirit to affect great change in and
through them?
you have two choices: Regret or Redemption" ~ The Hospital Mom
On January 27, 1999 the unthinkable became our reality. Our pink and precious daughter of 6 months suffered a massive mid-cerebral arterial stroke. The main artery between her spine and her brain had become blocked from a blood clot at the juncture where it splits into the left and right hemispheres. Worldwide, 1 in 25,000 live births will suffer a stroke each year.
The years that have followed have been tumultuous. Doctors, therapies, drug studies, seizures, and surgeries. There are times where I felt I have earned doctoral degrees in Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, Pharmacology, Neurology, Developmental Pediatrics and Child Psychology from the Mother's Medical Institute.
At any moment I can walk into an emergency room and speak in medical terms with any nurse, doctor or specialist. Pity the poor nurse who argued with me that my child could not possibly have suffered a stroke. "Children do not have strokes," she said with condescending authority.
Ashley was having seizures and I walked into the emergency room in Tulsa, Oklahoma telling the medical team what she needed. I had been on the phone with her neurologist and we agreed I could transport her to the hospital quicker than an ambulance could find me - plus I was already in the car and on my way - and he would meet me there.
My dad met us at the hospital and while he entertained my 25 month old daughter, I politely asked the nurse to step outside the room. "Never tell a parent in front of a child that they are making up a diagnosis, especially one this horrid," I said with the indignation of a mom who was living the unimaginable. The nurse continued to argue with me as the doctor approached and I told her to go pull up the MRI and CT scans from the past 2 years. "I will," she assured me and stomped off, hands on her hips. And she did. The neurologist arrived, treatment began and later, he brought a very apologetic nurse into the room and assured her that infants do indeed have strokes.
That night I realized that parents must be advocates for their children. As the years passed, I learned most parents are so intimated by the medical process, hospital personnel and are simply overwhelmed by their situation that they are afraid to speak up. They will accept whatever is told them and not ask questions, advocate for help or seek solutions for their children.
I have worked with families in numerous settings - adult education centers, as a parent advocate in schools, at church and as a chaplain. The redemption of Ashley's story is in sharing the wisdom, education and experiences we have gained in this struggle. Parents of chronically medically challenged children are more likely to divorce, have extra-marital affairs and battle addictions. As their world centers around their children, hospitals and the medical world, they withdraw into themselves and face depression while living in a constant state of regret - the "would of, could of, should of" state of mind.
Our purpose is simple:
To provide Hope and Humor to Families of Chronically Medically Challenged Children.
Answering Emails of Hurting Families at Kim@hospitalmom.net
H.O.P.E. Delivery Bags for Caregivers at Hospitals
Currently, I am writing a book to bring Hope to Families. The following is an excerpt from "Beautifully Complicated," the story of redeeming the hurt in our lives in order "to Know HIM and Make HIM Known."
from BEAUTIFULLY COMPLICATED
“This is my Father’s World
and to my listening ears
All nature sings and ‘round me rings
The beauty of the sphere.”
Eighteen years ago I first sang this song to my infant baby girl. Born early - eager to change our world. Born tiny - proving size does not matter. Born the baby sister - her brother in love with her before she was before. Born a surprise - her daddy named her the moment he saw the positive pregnancy test.
“This is my Father’s World
I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees; of skies and seas
His hand the wonders wrought.”
Fifteen times I have laid her on an operating table and sang those words in her ear as she drifted to sleep. Sometimes easily. Sometimes fearfully, gripping my hand. Sometimes I have had tears in own voice and many times, I have sang to a room full of surgeons and technicians who came to the operating theater because they had heard of this family who sang before surgery and wanted to experience the peace that is in the room.
Three times I have sang this hymn in the surgery waiting room because that facility did not allow me to accompany her into the operating room.
Eighteen surgeries.
Thousands of miles driven in rain, snow, sunshine and shadow.
Months our family has lived apart - separated by 8 hours and the Rocky Mountains.
Dozens of professionals. Hundreds of medications. Thousands of phone calls to doctors. Ten Thousands of hours in research by specialists and parents.
Millions of prayers raised by family, friends and even strangers.
This indeed is My Father's World. The Unthinkable will happen because this world is in a fallen state where the sin of mankind has brought heartache. Yet God redeems the pain of our fallen state to help each other. When we help each other that pain becomes bearable, even manageable as we allow Him to reveal His glory as we live other lives for others.
“This is my Father's world.
O let me ne'er forget
that though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father's world:
why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let the earth be glad!”
Are you living the Unthinkable?
Where you never dreamed you would be?
Are you living in Regret - depressed, lonely, self-pity - or in Redemption?
As you listen to the song below, go to God in Prayer and
I feel like lightning may come down at any moment.
But I truly didn't. I struggled with his personality and character in the bible. I couldn't even stand to read the book of John more than the once a year prescribed by my reading plan. And, according to some Christians I know, that admission alone is cause to question my salvation. But I honestly didn't.
However, like most lessons I've learned along this Christ-following journey, the reasons had far more to do with me than they did with poor John.
When I became a Christian and began studying the Scriptures, I viewed the world through the lens of self-hatred. I saw absolutely nothing worthy of love in myself. And so, this "beloved disciple" and the "one Jesus loved" seemed arrogant and pretentious when viewed through my tainted lenses. What made him so special? Why did he get to be the one Jesus loved? Did that mean Jesus loved the other disciples less?
John's claims of love confirmed my performance-driven, self-loathing, flawed view of God. In my mind, there was a sliding scale of His love. People like John and King David (check out his deathbed confession in 2 Samuel 23:1) were at the top. Those were the people God truly loved. Those were the people God enjoyed.
In the middle were most everybody else - the people who seemed to have it all together at church. The people who smiled and prayed and hugged and didn't seem to be faking it.
Further down were the people who struggled with addictions and sins, but were truly repentant and trying to make an honest go of it.
Even further were those who didn't love God, who hadn't accepted Him or who had flat-out rejected Him.
Finally, at the very bottom, was me. I was loved only because the verse says, "For God so loved the world..." If He didn't love me, He would have been a liar. But, beyond that, I could see no reason why He would choose to love me.
But, ever so slowly, God began to change my lenses. He began to show me how He loves me, not because He had to, but because He wants to. He began to remove the self-loathing, the performance-driven fear. For the first time, I began to understand that love. And I began to see John through a new light.
"The disciple Jesus loved" wasn't arrogant or pretentious, he was filled with a holy confidence. He had looked into the eyes of Jesus and received the love that was never forced. He intimately knew the sacrifice and love that had been poured out for him on Calvary.
He knew what his identity, his "title" had cost him.
John chose to describe himself as beloved because that title was precious. It was costly. It was worth honor.
Do you see where I'm going with this, dear sister? Do you see that this is you? Perhaps you are like I was, drowning in the sea of self-hatred. Are you jealous of those who seem safe on the boat? Do you see the lifeline, the love, being offered to you? And are you willing to let go of those stones, those lies, so that you can hold on to love with everything you have?
You are the one Jesus loves. You are the beloved disciple. You can walk in the same holy confidence as John and David, secure in the knowledge that you are intimately loved and treasured by the Creator of the Universe. But that is not a title anyone else can give you. That is the title you choose for yourself.
Can you believe this for yourself? What has kept you from knowing how much you are loved?
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