October 18th, 2016
This month has been a worldwind. Actually, this whole world race thing has been a worldwind, a crazy roller coaster that goes by way too fast. And I’ve been learning that all I can do is put my hands up and enjoy the ride. So many people have been asking me how ministry is going, how I’m doing, and what I’m up to. Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin.
This journey has been a messy, beautiful mosaic of undoing and unraveling. My heart has grown to sizes I never knew were possible. My eyes have been so fixed Upwards and my heart has never felt such intimacy with the Lord.
But I’ve also been tested and tried. My identity had been pushed, my comforts taken away, and all consistency had been thrown out the window. These past few months have been hard. Some days I feel more like Naaman than David. You might not remember this guy, so let me tell you a story from 2 kings 5: Naaman was a mighty commander of Syria with a humiliating disease. He was suffering from leprosy, which is basically an awful skin disease. After years of shame and struggle, he hears a whisper of hope. Word gets around that the prophet Elisha can cure him, so Naaman wastes no time. With head first, feet running, heart pounding, he runs to a hope he can finally hold on to. But wait a sec. The news isn’t what the great commander had expected. He’s told “to go and wash in the Jordan seven times and his flesh would be restored.”
Surely this can’t be the cure that he came all this way for? His voice quaking with a mixture of frustration and desperation he says, “Surely Elisha would come out to me and stand and call upon the name of the Lord his God, and wave his hand over the place…so he turned and went away in rage.”
Pause. This is me. Going through this rumble and tumble life wanting a quick fix to my brokenness. Where’s the drive thru band-aid to my bleeding heart? Who needs to bathe in the river seven times when there must be a quick fix somewhere. Jesus, please forgive me because I’ve forgotten again. This spiritual dementia is deadly. It’s in the day to day, ordinary, discipline that victory and healing come. I just want the leprosy to be gone, when you’ve come to change my heart.
So here I am, feeling more like impatient Naaman than faithful David, but holding onto the promise that He is making all things new, including me. I’m a broken mess, the race has shown me that, but sweet Jesus is so patient and kind with me. So I’ll keep reading, obeying the word, pressing into those around me, washing the dishes, and serving this community. Because the daily disciplines teach us the greatest lessons.
I’ll race ya to the river, oh Lord!
