As I sit here and stare at my foot propped up on a precarious tower of pillows and encased in a plastic walking boot that is hotter than anything I have ever experienced, I can’t help but laugh at God’s clever and clear analogies in my life.
So often He uses the physical to mirror the spiritual; He does this to help our tiny, human understanding to grasp concepts that are abstract and just too big for our brains to handle without direct experiences. I especially am a tactile and visual learner- I need to touch things, to see things, to truly experience something with those senses before I can break it down into something that makes any sense. I also am incredibly stubborn and need to be slapped in the face with a lesson before I will sit and actually put in the patience and effort it takes to actually learn it. The humanness in me just thinks that I know what is best, that I know what I need, and that I know where I am going.
God so often has to push me down to get my attention so that when I turn to Him to shake my fist, He is able to catch my eye finally and let me know that He has been trying to tell me something this whole time.
I had one of those moments when I broke my foot. Even from the first moment when I was sprawled at the bottom of the stairs in Thailand, I knew that He had my attention!
You see, I am independent to a fault (or so I am learning). I have never really needed anybody; I always prided myself on being able to keep myself afloat no matter the circumstances out of my own sheer will. I love to be alone, to do things myself, to have it my way, and to just be left to my own devices. Even the race in itself has been a humbling lesson in this with no alone time, having to constantly submit to authority even when you don’t agree, not having any control over where you live, what you eat, or what you do with your time. That’s difficult for anyone and has been a struggle for me for sure, but this recent lesson drove it so much deeper.
My broken foot has caused me to further lose what pieces of independence I had on the race still. The entire country of Cambodia is seemingly covered in tiles that get precariously slippery when wet (it’s monsoon season here too) and everything has stairs on stairs on stairs with elevators being rare. With my arm crutches I can’t carry things like plates of food and showering on one foot in a slick bathroom is an adventure for sure. Especially when I first broke it and was struggling with my strength and in so much pain, I had to be literally carried to many places. I’ve been cradled by squad members to the bathroom, piggybacked through buildings, chair carried up stairs, lifted into buses and tuk-tuks, and constantly stabilized by an arm, shoulder or a hand as I navigate broken cement, gravel, inclines, and puddles.
As a rule, I don’t let people love me. They ask what I need and I reply “nothing.” They ask if I need help and I say “It’s okay, I’ve got it.” They offer to go out of their way and I say “Oh no, that’s too much trouble.” It’s the American way- you politely refuse because you would never want to burden someone or impose on people. It’s what we are taught from the very beginnings of our lives and is part of what gives us the international reputation of being cold and selfish. I am an independent woman and so often I have been immensely praised for that trait.
Despite that, each one of these things that I haven’t been able to do on my own because of my foot has been a blessing.
God has humbled me and shown me that we not only need Him, but that He created us to need each other so that we can live in a community that glorifies Him. Part of being mature is understanding boundaries and the word boundaries doesn’t always have to mean keeping people out of your yard! For me, I was challenged to look at the fence that I have always kept around every part of my life- a thick, reinforced, extremely tall, and completely uninviting fence that didn’t even welcome a peek over the top from a casual passer-by. That fence was erected out of fear; fear that people would see me for how I really am; flaws and all, fear that because of that they wouldn’t love me, that they would affirm the things that I don’t like and cause those hurts to dig even deeper. According to 1 John, there is no fear in love, but it turns out that I fear love!
It hurts me so much that I am being so well cared for by my teammates and that I can’t serve them in return in the ways that I desire to. But even that is incredibly beautiful because I know that these women are not caring for me and serving me so well to get something in return but rather just because they love me and desire to. Each time they literally take my weight upon their own shoulders I think of how we are to shoulder each other’s burdens when the other is weak as a body of Christ. Each time they bring me another perfectly prepared plate of food I think of how we are called as Christians to seek nourishment from the Bible together. Every time they encourage me with words as I struggle up flights of stairs dripping with sweat I think of how we are supposed to build up one another with our words so that we are a community that builds up the Kingdom of God. On this brand-new team with women who I don’t know deeply yet, I am incredibly loved so clearly in a very physical sense.
That physical sense of providing for my needs leads me straight to the heart of God and mirrors what He desires for His children spiritually. He longs for us to set our burdens at His feet and walk into freedom, for us to feast on His Word and drink from the spring of the Spirit that never runs out, and desires for us to come to the end of ourselves and trust in Him fully to sustain us in every aspect of life. These Biblical analogies that describe our need for God in the same light as we need food to sustain our lives is not just pretty- it is trying to explain and help us understand that we need God to live even more than we need water or food.
And so I have a new name for myself: Miss Dependence. I have learned that submission is better than independence when it comes to my relationship with God, that allowing my fences to fall and others to love me even just in physical ways stirs my heart with love for them, and I’m learning that it’s okay to need people. It’s not weak, it’s not unhealthy, it’s not pathetic; it is part of how we are created so that we can experience how we need to depend on God in a physical way to understand the Spiritual.
So here I sit with a throbbing foot oddly thankful for that broken bone because it has broken a part of the mask I have always hidden behind and spoken truth into my life that has brought freedom; I can need without being needy, I can submit without being pathetic, and I can be loved not for what I do but just for who I am.
