“One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer – at three in the afternoon. Now a man crippled from birth was being carried up to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, ‘Look at us!’ So the man gave them his full attention, expecting to get something from them.
Then Peter said, ‘Silver or gold I have none, but what I have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.’ Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong. He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them to the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God. When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.”
-Acts 3:1-10
“Take me to the gates of Beautiful, please –
I have to go beg for money. No different than the day before, you see…
When your legs don’t work you have to go beg for money.
Until these two guys surprised me;
They talked, I listened
Silver and green I have none but what I have will see you walk again.
However you’ve been until now, leave it behind
Let these people see you walk again
You can walk again
I’ve called this mat home for so long now
I’m afraid I might just be stuck right to it.
When you say in this name there’s healing power
It sounds crazy but for some reason I believe it
That very moment something changed in me
Silver and green, I have none but whatI have led me to walk again
HoweverI’ve been until now leave it behind
Telleveryone I can walk again
I can walk again.
-Riley Armstrong, “Silver and Green”
On Tuesday, I walked from the church office back home to grab something I had forgotten. This month, I and five other girls are staying at the home of Octov, his wife Natasha, and Nathaniel, their five month old baby. Natasha is incredibly kind and speaks enough English to get her point across with no frills, which has provided us with a lot of great quotes to write down and chew on for days. Our favorite Natasha-ism thus far is, “Life is short. We live for Jesus, we work for Jesus.”
But this post isn’t about Natasha and her words of wisdom. Not this time, anyway.
When I walked in the house that day, I heard a song playing on Natasha’s phone that I recognized from my past life as a little Lutheran girl at a little Lutheran school in the middle of the sugar beet fields in of the thumb of Michigan. Maybe you’ve heard it, too:
“Silver and gold I have none, but such as I give unto thee
In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk
He went walking and leaping and praising God,
Walking and leaping and praising God
In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!”
As a child, I loved that song, I think mostly for its upbeat rhythm. But I also loved the concept of it – the fact that in the blink of an eye, that man went from the life of hardship he had always known to a new life of joy and leaping and praising God.
I didn’t know that later in my life, I would come to love that story, not because of its upbeat rhythm, but because I could identify with that crippled man and his joy in being healed.
Like you, I’m sure, I have had some hard times in my life. Times when I wanted to throw in the towel and call it quits. Times I wanted to curl up on the bathroom floor in the fetal position and stay there for days. Times when I prayed, “Okay, God – that’s it. I’ve reached my limit of what I can handle. For real. You think I’m stronger than I am and I can handle all this. But You’re wrong. And I can’t.”
I went through a really hard season, about six years ago. It was rough. Maybe the hardest season of my life so far. And I cried and I prayed and I begged God to take it away, like Paul with the thorn in his side. I told God He didn’t know who I was; that He thought I could handle what was being thrown at me, but I couldn’t.
And then, I was reminded of the man who was healed outside of the gates of Beautiful. He was downcast, trodden upon and probably didn’t feel much like going on. I didn’t know what it was like to be crippled, but I could identify with his desire to strip away his hardships and struggles and gain a new life.
And you know, when he approached Peter and John, he didn’t expect anything more than a handout. Maybe a few pennies. And the shame in his approach showed that he didn’t think he was worth anything more. He couldn’t even look Peter and John in the eye until they addressed him.
I realized I had been trying to carry my own burdens for months. Once in a while, I would go to God and ask Him for a little help, but I would always hang on to the really awful parts. You know – a little bit ashamed, but a little bit indignant, too. “Fine, God,” I told Him stubbornly. “You want to dump all this crap on me, You think I can handle it? Then I will. I’ll do it myself. You can give me a few pennies, but leave the complete and total healing to me.”
Did I mention that I’m just a tinsy bit stubborn?
And that went on for a while until I just got tired, so tired, of carrying all that pain around, pretending that I could fix the situation and myself all alone. I realized that if I wanted to be completely healed, of the pain of the situation, of my hurt and angry feelings, of the struggle to just walk through each day without having a pull-my-hair-out-throw-things-against-the-wall meltdown, I had rely on God’s strength, not my own. I had to go to Him, humbled and in need, eyes lowered and heart hopeful, and ask Him to take the entire situation from me. To make me new. To take my heart, crippled with bitterness and pain, stretch it out, make it strong and stand it up to sing His praises again.
And when it finally sunk in that that was the only way I would ever survive, I went to Him and did just that. And he gave me strength. Oh, how He strengthened me. To the point where I could read Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:
“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you; for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
and understand exactly what that meant. There was no possible way I could get through each day without leaning on Him, like the newly healed man in Acts leaned on Peter and John. There was no way I would make it unless I teetered around on my new and strengthened heart, just like he teetered on his new and strengthened feet and ankles.
And soon, I could walk again. I could hold my head high and laugh and joke and eat again. And people noticed. They wondered how I was functioning and carrying a full class load and a part-time job all during this terrible awful time in my life. And I could tell them in all honesty that it was His strength, not my own.
So come on, Moldova. Your people are walking around, crippled and broken and sad. They are carrying around more burdens than they can handle. Your land is cold and abandoned. Your children are hungry. Come on, Moldova. Reach out to Him. He’ll give you more than pennies. He’ll heal you completely and help you stand. He’ll hold on to you while you try out your new legs and He’ll be filled with joy when you leap and praise Him.
Come on, Moldova. If I can do it, you can do it, too.
