Handicapped

I am handicapped by my strength.

I am crippled by my sense of independence.

I am chained by my pride.

Tight-fisted and clenched

I grasp for my own worth and righteousness.

Portrayal becomes betrayal, however,

For what is seen is not what is.

Unable to see the Truth inside

Because I listen to the lies spoken over.

I laugh too loud, for I know

What it means to cry alone.

The limp I live with

Is worth more than my word.  

I strive for the definition

I long to give myself.  In my life,

I refuse to fully trust You, Jesus,

Because I refuse to admit

My weakness.

Fear consumes the mind where new expectations are revealed;

I wrestle to act, when for so long, I’ve been told I can’t.

And yet... I can’t…

But You can…

In the effort to avenge my identity,

I placed myself as master, and forgot

To worship I AM as Lord.

Forgive me, God, and let me sit at the altar.

How is it in the resting, You prove Yourself mighty?!

The wanted strength obtained

Only by leaning into Him who created me.

For I am finding

There are mountains too high for me to climb;

There are journeys too long for me to take;

There are paths I become too unsure in following.

All this time I claimed You as my desire.

Nevertheless, all this time, I submitted

To the point before relenting control beyond my hold.

But these storms surround me...Yet You hold them all in Your hand.

These chains that have bound me, will You break?

God, I need You.  I am weak.

This cell is no longer my home.

Change my normal; transform my mind

To fit the Glory of heaven.  

Questions in the Face of a Seemingly Dashed Vision

     Last Sunday, a student from when I subbed in my first year in Browning, committed suicide.  She was only about 16 or 17…she would’ve been a junior in high school.  I feel old, though I’m only 28 years old.  Not because I’m almost 30, but because there are too many people in my community who are being laid into a grave before they reach the age of 25 years. 

     A child dying is one thing.  The matter that she took her life is another.  I am not angry at her.  I hurt for her and her family and friends.  But I am angry at the one who keeps coming to steal, kill, and destroy the individuals in my community.  With every funeral I attend, the more I wish I could grip a sword and cut him down once and for all.

     Yet, Jesus already did that on the cross.  So, then I get this thought in my head… “What if we asked Jesus to raise her from the dead?”  It happened in the Bible, and I know that God is the same yesterday, today and forever (see Hebrews 13:8), so why couldn’t it happen now?  I wonder why I don’t hear Christians ask for this.  We pray for miraculous healings, but when somebody dies, our first response is figuring out how to comfort the family, rather than the possibility that the person could live again.  Do we believe that this could be a possibility; if so, why aren’t we asking?  Or have we become acquainted with death too well?

     And yet, I ask these questions, but I need to see if I am just being stubborn.  It is not well with my soul that she has passed.  At the word of a tragedy, am I refusing to accept it?  With her death, I feel as if it is another situation where the devil gets another laugh.  It’s as if another battle he won (though I know Jesus already won the war).

    

Perhaps that is the real fight I am dealing with in my heart.  In June, the eve before IYC, I had a vision of dead things being taken out of the students, and then the dead things being taken out of our community.  One of my youth has been praying for the spirit of suicide to end.   And then this happens.  A slap in the face in the vision that God has spoken and declared.

     Nevertheless, I must hold onto the truth that when God says something, He is sure to follow.  Even if I don’t see it at the moment.  Jesus is still true, even when the devil attempts to make Him out into a liar.  I know that I am facing this battle right now.  “Hold on, because the vision is for an appointed time (Habakkuk 2:2-3).”  What I am struggling with is wishing the appointed time was now.  Perhaps all I should be praying for is a peace and hope that will surpass all understanding in this situation.

     And yet, I still wonder…if I were to speak to this student’s body to rise, would God honor that?

     I have a lot of questions, and I am nervous to wait for the answer.  But I will hold onto what I read this morning in Jeremiah 31.

          “The people who survived the sword found grace in the wilderness – Israel, when I went to give him rest.  The Lord has appeared of old [from afar] saying, ‘Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with a lovingkindness I have drawn you…They shall come with weeping, and with supplications I will lead them.  I will cause them to walk by rivers of waters, in a straight way in which will not stumble; for I am a Father to Israel…Then shall the virgin rejoice in the dance, and the young men and the old, together; for I will turn their mourning to joy, will comfort them, and make them rejoice rather than sorrow…For I have satiated [fully satisfied] the weary soul, and I have replenished every sorrowful soul.”                                                -Jeremiah 31:2-3, 9, 13, 25