Faith to Believe Part 2

      

Pastor Kent, from Busby, MT, was sharing his testimony of healing at IYC.

     In 2017, he found out his kidneys were shutting down.  He was put on dialysis, and it was a long and rough process in the time-being.  At night, he had to be hooked up to a machine to filter his wastes, and he was continually tired.  There were moments he was angry and didn’t understand why God would allow this.  The doctors tested for a kidney match, and nothing came through.  Until early of 2020.  There was a kidney match in Colorado, but Pastor Kent was notified that there were two individuals before him.  Kent’s wife, Jamie, was told by a friend, “This kidney is his.  I know it!”  Later another call came.  The first two in the list fell through.  The hospital asked, “Can you be here, tomorrow?”  The family packed up.  Jamie’s job collected money - enough to pay for all the expenses, except for food.  And in February, Pastor Kent Burnette had a new kidney, and was able to get off dialysis.  The family looks back on this surgery as a complete miracle, as within a month, the COVID crisis hit the nation (which would have prohibited Kent from having the surgery, due to health risks).

     He finished telling his testimony with, “I know that God can heal you, too!”

     An unexpected small tension built in my stomach at the hearing of that phrase.  Later that afternoon, I found myself asking God while running, “Daddy, am I at a point where I am finding it hard to celebrate with others when they have been healed?”  Almost 30-years-old, and my hand remains the way it always has been.  I still have to take medication for a seizure disorder that began when I was 11-years-old.  There have been moments where God has moved, but overall, I am reminded how things have stayed the same...even after being prayed for by a group of people.

     How can I admit this?  I’ve been a long time Christian, and even help in ministry...And yet, the secret I carry is that I struggle with doubt when it comes to physical healing - primarily my own.  I will jump to pray for others.  However, I am increasingly hesitant to allow others to pray for me.  With every prayer, and every lack of result, it is only an added stab to my heart.

     I was able to get excited hearing Pastor Kent’s story.  However, when he added that God can heal me, that’s when my heart became hurt.  And it’s something that for most of my life, I’ve had to carry alone.

     A couple days after Pastor Kent’s testimony, our team was going deep into worship.  I was just sitting, when an elder came to me.  “Let me see your hand,” she said.  “The Lord is going to give you understanding for things that you had questions.” [Oh crap!  Here came the tears - BIG TIME!] “You haven’t told many people, but He has heard you.  You are not forgotten.  You are right where you need to be.  You are going to be a wise woman.” 

     She was right.  I haven’t told anybody my fears and apprehensions when it comes to my personal healing.  There was one lady on Facebook I shared some of my questions, but that was mainly because she, too, has the same questions.  I have struggled to have faith...and yet, I have kept it to myself, mainly, because I know I should have faith.  What would my friends and family think, for having this doubt?  Do they know what it is like to wait for a promise for their entire life?  And yet...to this day, my hand remains the same.  

     The pain.  The questions.  It is real.

     And yet…

     God knows the questions I have asked in the dark.  He is aware of the hurt I bear.  And as alone as I feel with this burden, He has always been there with me.  Despite all the wonderings I have attempted to navigate, it has never changed how He sees me.  The following night, God told me, “I see you as whole.”  Aside from living with cerebral palsy and a seizure disorder, my greatest battle amidst it all is how I have seen myself with a disability.  I have seen myself as broken.  However, God sees me as whole.  

     I chose to look deeper at 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 (my least favorite Scripture in the Bible).  I noted four things:

1. The thorn in Paul’s flesh was originally a messenger of Satan
2. Paul asked for the thorn to be removed, but was refused
3. He had since learned that he would have exalted himself, if he didn’t have it in his life.  
4. He became more dependent on God’s strength than on his own.

     How does this apply?  The stroke that caused the disability was not from God.  He is not sadistic in wanting us to be hurt.  However, in not opening my right hand to look like the other...I am faced to observe my personal motives of being exalted.  Honestly, I would like to be the “hero”, the “main focus”.  By exalting myself, nevertheless, I fail to exalt God.  Furthermore, I know that I would depend on my own strength, rather than on God’s.  Trust me.  I’m good at being independent.  And it has gotten me into trouble when I fail to seek God for His assistance.  

     There is another pastor, from IYC, Dean Buffalo.  He, too, has cerebral palsy.  A businessman once asked him why God hadn’t healed his hand (although Pastor Dean was healed from brain damage).  His reply was: “Because God is his right hand.” Pastor Dean has learned that he is able to rely on God’s strength.

     On the last day of camp, I had two epiphanies.  

1.  I have held onto the expectation that God must prove His goodness to me by healing me on earth.  This is partially why I have felt frustration in this situation.  Will I trust that God continues to be good, even if the way that I desire He heals me is different than how He actualizes it?  
2. Most importantly - if I had a choice, what would I choose?  Would I rather be healed from CP/seizure disorder, and no longer depend on God to be in my life, or would I rather still have my hand as it is, and continue to depend on (and love) God throughout my life?

     Don’t get me wrong.  I would love to have my hand opened.  But never at the expense of walking away from my God.  I’ll choose the latter.

How God Showed Me My Worth Through Kitchen Duty

        

 Confession.  There is a part of Scripture that I don’t like reading.  With its words, I am forced to face a grievance, that for my entire life, would rather deny.  Ironically, it’s a part of the Bible that most Christians find hope in.  I have a hard time doing that.  I hate admitting that I must look beyond myself for strength I know I don’t have.  

     “And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’  Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake.  For when I am weak, I am strong.” 

- 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

     I don’t remember not fearing insecurities; specifically, fearing that people may define me by my ability.  I have believed that the first thing people see about me is my right hand (or the limp).  In American society, we pride ourselves in what we can do; and whatever weakest link is identified, we cut it.  Be stronger.  Be faster.  Be smarter.  Be bigger.  However, when God tells me to take pleasure in my struggles and weakness, it runs counter.  It is counter culture.  It is uncomfortable.  And it rubs me the wrong way.

     I fear being called a handicap.  I fear that my worth has been diminished because of what I can’t do.  Part of this whole knowing God’s love for me is tied to my value as a human.  And I don’t see it.  I surely can mask it.  I act tougher than I am.  Release tears in secret.  Show up to help someone else to prove I have a purpose.

     I legitimately helped out in the school kitchen during the COVID school shut down, because our community had a need, and they were in want of hands.  We made sandwiches and would assemble 1,000-1,220 lunches everyday for the remainder of the school year.  However, a few weeks in, and my insecurities started showing their face.  I have managed to adapt and maneuver gross motor skills.  However, when it comes to fine motor...well...to this day, I am still lacking.

     Give me a box of sandwiches, I can carry it without any problem.  I’ve taught myself to use my abdomen muscles to balance for my left arm.  Nevertheless, ask me to bag a sandwich…

     I. Am.  Slow.

     I was the slowest on the team.  Same goes for the assembly line.  (You can only pack so many lunches with one hand compared to everyone’s two hands.)  There were certain prep-work tasks that I was moved from one place to another, because my right hand couldn’t hold something properly, or my pace wasn’t as fast as others.  

     Mentally, I started wanting to quit.  I came, most days, however, there were mornings I had to talk myself into helping.  I felt like a handicap.  The slow one.  It was obvious, there were times that I needed assistance.  And in my mind - to need assistance was a detriment to my worth.  

     I want to clarify that no one called me a handicap, or created an atmosphere that I was a problem.  No one seemed troubled that they would be my second hand in assembling the food.  Often the moving around was because they were trying to find a place that fit me best. Which brings me to my overall point.

     There were very few moments in my life where there was someone who was ignorantly and explicitly outed me for living with a disability.  However, that wasn’t the vast majority.  It’s not that my community saw me as a handicap.  I have defined myself as such. I have lacked seeing the value in myself, based on my ability.  It’s not my friends that see my hand, primarily.  It’s me.  It’s quite the juxtaposition.  I tell my students that they have a purpose, that it’s okay to need help (everyone does, at sometime or another).  I tell them that despite where they are weak, they have strengths to share.  However, here I am...having a hard time believing that my worth is not determined by what I can’t do.

     It’s also not determined by what I can do.  It’s the fact that I exist, and am present.  

     In those moments where I wanted to go home, because I felt that I was too slow, I was reminded of a common saying, “No one can do everything.  But everyone can do something.”  I was trying to convince myself that my pace should’ve excluded me from helping, because, “Wouldn’t it be better if they had two-usable-handed people who can assemble at a quick pace?”  But I think the Holy Spirit was trying to show that even my one-extra hand was needed...it was vital.  After all, there was only a small group of people that would come in.  Every head and every hand was a necessity to make sure that 1,200 students in our town would be fed.  Even if one of those heads had only one working hand to offer.

       Our American society defines the worth of an individual by what they can do.  However, the paradox of life is that we find ourselves in positions where we don’t have strength.  We have two choices at that moment.  You can lie down and grovel in pity, or learn to stand in the worth God has for you.  Our value is not determined by what we can do; nor undermined by what we can’t do.  It is the fact that we are God’s creation, and He sees us as valuable.

***

     There was a time, soon after I had lost a job, my cousin challenged me to see the win in my situation.  Honestly, I was trying to come up with something spiritual, but he asked me to go deeper.  “Can you believe that God has a picture of you in His wallet?  Can you imagine that God has your picture on His desk and is there cheering you on?”  I was glad it was nighttime, because I was starting to cry.  At that time, I still defined my worth based on my ability; so, any failure reflected that mentality.  And yet...God doesn’t measure my worth on my ability, but rather on His ability.

     The cool bit about the Bible is that God used people with inferiority complexes.  I think He did it, because He’s showing that the miracle of redemption isn’t about us, but rather His.  The prophet, Jeremiah, was one such man.  When God called him, He said, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.  Before you were born, I sanctified [set apart] you.  I ordained [appointed] you as a prophet to the nations...Do not say, ‘I am a youth,’ for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and whatever I command you, you shall speak (Jeremiah 1:5, 7).”  Jeremiah wasn’t called because of great ability, nor his absence of weakness...He was called because God specifically created Jeremiah with a purpose.

***

     In the process of kitchen duty lessons, I am finding that God has made me in such a way, specifically, as well.  I recently caught on a new series, The Chosen.  It details Jesus’ ministry with his disciples.  One thing that stands out is that every disciple featured has their own character, personality, and strength.  There were scenes where Jesus affirmed something in a disciple, that so often we criticize!  

    In fearing what people may think about me - which was only a projection of my own self-loathing - I have come to the realization that I am a perpetuator of comparing myself with others.  Often, I lean toward the side of feeling less than others.  I have fallen in the trap of comparing myself to my friends.  If there arises a situation where I find my strength more exemplified than another, I have found a small amount of delight (sadistic, I know.  I am still being sanctified, so let’s just be grateful that God is bringing this to my mind so it can be properly dealt with).  

     However, since seeing the show and God emphasizing that my value is based on how He sees me, not on my ability...I have learned to appreciate my personality, and the things that God has instilled in me.  Moreover, as the disciples weren’t the same, I have also learned to cherish the things that God has put in my friends, even if they are different.  God made all of us, with different personalities, strengths, ideas and perspectives - and all are valuable.  We each play a part in glorifying God.  As a whole, we are the salt and light of Christ to this world.

The Earth is Weeping

“For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope; because the creation itself will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.  For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now.  Not only that, but we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body.  For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees?  But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.”  -Romans 8:19-25

The earth is weeping.

Groaning with perpetuated pains,

Maimed with sorrows that were borne

With the first step of sin.

The earth is weeping.

A gnashing of brutality unleashed;

Ravaged by war and disease.

We claim to be united, and yet,

Divided, we are falling.

The earth is weeping…

How long has it been 

Since the Lamb was shed?
Here we remain, laboring,

Waiting

For the fullness of Redemption

To reign freely in our hearts and land.

Fear has driven us into hiding

So that a virus will not threaten our security.

Old wounds caused by hatred has driven us

To the streets, brother against brother.

More things can be listed;

More offenses can be named.

God, You know them all.

The weight produces a silence 

Too strong to utter.

Only the sound of a mutter…

A groan can be heard.

May I stand with those who have had to stand;

To mourn with those who have mourned;

To learn to pray with those who have waited

For Your promises so long?

Will a hand be extended

So that the declaration of Jesus’ love

For all humanity can be actualized?

Perhaps 2020 will look less like 1820,

And more like

The dream of a King

Who only iterated the heart's cry

Of the Heavenly throne.

God, forgive us when we have worshipped You,

But failed to see Your design in the eyes

Of another color.

God, forgive us when we have failed to speak

In the hours of injustice.

God, forgive us when we have become rash,

Defending our honor and denying the patience

In which to hear humility’s other.

God, forgive us when we have failed to empathize,

Mocking one’s concern for the future as a note 

Of a lack of faith.

God, forgive us when we have forced society

To choose sides based on the tactic of an invisible foe.

God, forgive us when we have justified our rebellion

As we have witnessed the execution 

Of another’s disobedience.

God, forgive us when we have exchanged

Cultural perception for theological debate.

The earth is weeping,

Anticipating the sons and daughters

Of Heaven to bear the image of Christ

As salt and light

To the dead and destitute.

And yet...with all that we are faced…

You still remain, and You have never changed.

The cross bears the blood and nail scars -

A witness to the chasm of hell’s appetite satisfied by God’s breath.

Where is it’s sting?  Where is it’s victory?

We are tempted to believe our groans 

Prove evidence enough the daily chaos

Makes the tearing of the veil null and void.

Nonetheless, that is further from the truth.

For though the world weeps, it groans.

And though it groans from the pain of sin,

It groans as in labor before the birth of new life.

Creation waits with expectation and hope

The salvation purchased will transform

Our hearts into a new realization.

Our patience tempts to wane,

However, Your promises are sustained.

Our finite cannot comprehend

The fruition of Truth beyond our own time.

You are faithful.

You are Lord.

There will be joy for our mourning.

There will be beauty for our ashes.

Exchanging yokes of burden

For an offering of praise.

The name of Jesus forever will reign!

Lord, call our names.

Draw us near;

Beckon us to seek Your face.

May we humble ourselves.

Forgive us our wrongs,

And may repentance have its good work in us.

Heal our land.

But most of all, Lord God,

Heal our souls.