I am trying to be still.
But my heart is (still) moving in many directions.
I'm thinking about a family whose blog I read, having found it via the blog of a friend. Both mother and son suffer or suffered from cancer. The mother lost that battle tonight. The son fights on. My heart goes out to them, and I find myself praying.
I'm still thinking about so many of the things I mentioned this morning.
I'm sitting quietly.
I unpacked a little more tonight. The things left to unpack are mostly the ones that are deeply ingrained with memories. Beautiful memories, but some that just at present feel bittersweet. It's easier to avoid the pain when it's packed away in boxes where I don't see it. Where it doesn't surround me.
I hung a plaque over my bed tonight. It's hung near my bed for years. A list of promises of Jesus that someone did by hand in calligraphy and gave to my family when I was a child. Somewhere along the way, I inherited it. And now, no matter where I live, it hangs near my bed as a reminder and a comfort. I think the words are somehow appropriate tonight, to close this post, and move my heart again towards prayer.
I will never leave you
I will heal all your diseases
I will save you
I will not condemn you
I will help you
I will answer you
I will love you
I will guide you
I will teach you
I will forgive you
I will bless you
I will lead you
I will protect you
I will strengthen you
I will give you joy
I will give you peace
I will satisfy you
I will not leave you comfortless
I will supply all your needs
I will prepare a home in heaven
I will refresh you
I will empower you
I will be yoked with you
I will share your burdens
I will give you eternal life
- signed, Jesus Christ
May my still wandering heart be still in the midst of those promises, and may the same be true for each of those who are so deeply on my heart tonight.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Wounded Healer
Henri Nouwen, as usual, continues to challenge me...
The Wounded Healer
Nobody escapes being wounded. We all are wounded people, whether physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. The main question is not "How can we hide our wounds?" so we don't have to be embarrassed, but "How can we put our woundedness in the service of others?" When our wounds cease to be a source of shame, and become a source of healing, we have become wounded healers.
Jesus is God's wounded healer: through his wounds we are healed. Jesus' suffering and death brought joy and life. His humiliation brought glory; his rejection brought a community of love. As followers of Jesus we can also allow our wounds to bring healing to others.
The Wounded Healer
Nobody escapes being wounded. We all are wounded people, whether physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. The main question is not "How can we hide our wounds?" so we don't have to be embarrassed, but "How can we put our woundedness in the service of others?" When our wounds cease to be a source of shame, and become a source of healing, we have become wounded healers.
Jesus is God's wounded healer: through his wounds we are healed. Jesus' suffering and death brought joy and life. His humiliation brought glory; his rejection brought a community of love. As followers of Jesus we can also allow our wounds to bring healing to others.
Where My Heart Is...
My heart feels scattered this morning, pulled in a variety of directions, prayers and patterns of thought...
I'm thinking about how much I identify with this cartoon at "The Naked Pastor."
I'm watching as a project I've been following from a distance gains momentum, and feeling the pull of that. Feeling the impact that it's having on my heart.
I'm feeling a deep sadness about a number of things.
And a deep frustration over some others.
I'm thinking about the "be relentless" prayer list that I composed at the beginning of this year, and negotiating/arguing just a little with God over one of the items. An item I'm tired of praying for, no longer believe is truly possible, and am feeling a bit like I just can't pray for anymore.
I'm feeling like the things I never wanted to change are shifting constantly, and the things in which I longed for that shifting simply will not move.
I'm thinking about a blog world aquaintance whose father just recently passed away. And the moving post she wrote here. And the ways it makes me reconsider some relationships of my own.
I'm thinking about 1:11 and 11:11, and how I keep catching those times on the clock, on a nearly daily basis these days. About how they touch a raw spot in my soul, and are inextricably tied in my heart to certain people and places, and stir prayers.
I'm thinking about a friend who is beginning the trip home today after some time away. Praying for safe travels, smooth connections, and the transition back into life at home.
I'm thinking again about idolatry. About the verse in Jeremiah that so struck me last fall. "Idol worship is a form of self-harm." A striking image for one who has dealt with those who have deliberately harmed themselves as a way of releasing pain. And asking questions again about what idols, what forms of self harm, need to be struck down within my own life.
And I'm thinking about venom, and bloodletting. Remembering vivid images that came in separate moments of prayer, months apart, driving my car to and from work. Praying for endings and cleansing and release.
My heart is scattered, and trying desperately to pray, to somehow find Jesus in the midst of all of this. I am thinking about so many things in my own life, and praying for so many of those whom I care for deeply. My heart hurts, but maybe that's okay?
I'm thinking about how much I identify with this cartoon at "The Naked Pastor."
I'm watching as a project I've been following from a distance gains momentum, and feeling the pull of that. Feeling the impact that it's having on my heart.
I'm feeling a deep sadness about a number of things.
And a deep frustration over some others.
I'm thinking about the "be relentless" prayer list that I composed at the beginning of this year, and negotiating/arguing just a little with God over one of the items. An item I'm tired of praying for, no longer believe is truly possible, and am feeling a bit like I just can't pray for anymore.
I'm feeling like the things I never wanted to change are shifting constantly, and the things in which I longed for that shifting simply will not move.
I'm thinking about a blog world aquaintance whose father just recently passed away. And the moving post she wrote here. And the ways it makes me reconsider some relationships of my own.
I'm thinking about 1:11 and 11:11, and how I keep catching those times on the clock, on a nearly daily basis these days. About how they touch a raw spot in my soul, and are inextricably tied in my heart to certain people and places, and stir prayers.
I'm thinking about a friend who is beginning the trip home today after some time away. Praying for safe travels, smooth connections, and the transition back into life at home.
I'm thinking again about idolatry. About the verse in Jeremiah that so struck me last fall. "Idol worship is a form of self-harm." A striking image for one who has dealt with those who have deliberately harmed themselves as a way of releasing pain. And asking questions again about what idols, what forms of self harm, need to be struck down within my own life.
And I'm thinking about venom, and bloodletting. Remembering vivid images that came in separate moments of prayer, months apart, driving my car to and from work. Praying for endings and cleansing and release.
My heart is scattered, and trying desperately to pray, to somehow find Jesus in the midst of all of this. I am thinking about so many things in my own life, and praying for so many of those whom I care for deeply. My heart hurts, but maybe that's okay?
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