Pain.
Sickness.
Hurting.
Though these are NOT necessarily a few of my favorite things, I feel like my perspective towards them has completely changed.
Pain.
The change started the day before I left on the Race. I did something I would have never expected to get done before- I got a tattoo. To rewind a few weeks, I was headed to the river with my family on vacation when my sister brought up possibly getting a tattoo of the word “Eucharisteo”. “What does that mean?”
I fell in love with the word as Kristen described it. It was the word Jesus used at the last supper to give thanks to the Father for all that God had used His life for. It was the only word He could find to express His overflow of gratitude out of the JOY set before Him. The joy He held because of all that God had done with his life during that previous season of God preparing His ministry for Jesus to go to the cross the very next day. Even knowing that the next step was going to be hard, Jesus knew that God had been so faithful in piecing every little thing together for His life up to that point, so He held full joy, faith, and trust, that God would continue to be with Him and be glorified!
My eyes teared up as her words sunk in to my heart and the meaning of this one powerful word pounded into my soul from every angle. I knew I had those exact feelings, and agreed that there was no word to express the joy and thankfulness I felt for God’s faithfulness this past 6 months in preparing me for The World Race. But it’s so much more than that! He restored my life; He spoke purpose into areas I thought were lifeless; He brought order to chaos; He brought peace to confusion. And much like Jesus felt, I feel nothing but overwhelmed by joy with Gods grace and purpose in all of it. Though I knew the next step, the mission trip itself, would be hard, I knew I could rely on God to be continually faithful.
So a few weeks passed and almost every single day as I spent time with The Lord, He would remind me how He never forgot about me and could never forsake me. That He had me ENGRAVED on the palm of His hand.
Isaiah 49:16 “.. Yet I WILL NOT FORGET YOU. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
The day before leaving for Launch, it just hit me like a brick: i knew what God was saying! He directed the word that was the cry of my heart, and then He directed me on the place I could get it tattooed- the palm of my hand. It seemed spur of the moment, because it just hit me in a wave of confidence: “I’m leaving tomorrow, today is the day and we’re already in Austin… Let’s do this!” As we got to the tattoo shop, I spent some time asking questions, but I didn’t have many and as time passed I realized I didn’t need to “go think on it”. I knew. I knew I wanted to do it. During that wait time, the tattoo guy told me that the white ink on the palm of my hand might wear off, and I asked him how long it would for sure stay. “One year.”
“That’s exactly how long I for sure wanted it for- for my year long mission trip!”
So I did it, and the whole time I sat there in awe of how Jesus endured that same pain in the palm of His hand: FOR ME. FOR US. Not because we were good enough- he had to pay with His own pain and His own life! And the pain He felt was so much worse that that needle on my skin- it was a nail that was pierced straight through the palm of His hand! My tattoo hurt so bad- I couldn’t help but ramble about how Jesus endured much worse pain! “This is CRAZY, Michael! Jesus endured so much worse!” At any moment, I could have said “Okay, wait wait. Stop. I’m done. This hurts!” But if I had done that, the word would have been incomplete, making it have no meaning or purpose at all. It would have all been in vain. In the same way, Jesus could have pulled away at any moment and said “actually, I changed my mind. This hurts. I’m changing my mind. See ya!” The cross wouldn’t have been complete though- it would have all been in vain if Jesus didn’t endure. But He did! “For the joy that was set before Him, He endured the cross, scorning it’s shame” (Hebrews 12:2).
I got to lay my massive bandaged-up hand on Michael, the artist, and pray for Him!
I sent my sister a picture only to have her tell me that I had made a mistake and spelt it wrong. I got it done “Eucharisto” when the word was actually “EucharistEo”.
“NOOO! God, I felt you give me the green light! Why do I mess everything up!?”
As we looked into it, we discovered that it’s actually 2 different forms of the same word: “EucharistEo” is the verb of giving thanks, but “Eucharisto” is the PERSON overflowing with thankfulness! The person form, now engraved on the palm of my hand. Just like I am on Jesus’. Even in my mistakes, God has everything in control.
My perspective of pain has completely changed. Because I experienced pain by choice, just like Jesus did for us. I realized in that moment that the purpose was greater than the pain, and if God endured worse for me then I could endure for something He put on my heart to do. It has been an adventure to explain to the Dominican culture that I am not in a gang. And to explain to them in Spanish what it means!
Sickness.
Last week, I fell extremely sick out of no where. I got terribly joint pain, a rash, headaches, and a fever. We went to the doctor to find that I had Chikungunya- a virus similar to malaria that is transmitted by Mosquitos. We spent multiple full days at the hospital- getting blood work, seeing nurses, being tested, and talking with the doctor. As we left the hospital one day, we had a pretty long walk around the city trying to find the pharmacy. Every step ached. I realized that the way I felt in that moment was not foreign to people in third world countries. I felt neglected, out to fight for myself, and like no one cared that I was barely strong enough to walk another step. This initial feeling to pity myself was soon turned into a compassion for those who are sick and hurting In these countries without being shown any compassion. You just feel so helpless. Like your needs are insignificant. I want every person to know that this isn’t true! That God sees And deeply cares about their needs and about their desires!
One girl in particular, I got to meet in Moca. Her name was Cadren, and she is 24 years old. Erin, one of our squad leaders, and I had gone down to get ice cream with a few of our girls and were on the late night walk back to the house. As we approached one of the houses, we were motioned at to come inside to help. Cadren was inside having a stroke and no one knew what to do. They parted the way as I made my way back to the bedroom to find her on her back convulsing and breathing rapidly and heavily out of her nose. I knelt beside the bed to do the only thing I knew to do- pray! I began listening and God told me that she was suffering from anxiety and that this was a physical expression of that. As I began praying for her out loud and trying to talk to her some, her family kept telling me that she could not speak or hear. She had never been able to. Silenced and deafened for 24 years.
I had them help me to sit her up and held her hand and head while she leaned back against me. I began praying for God to relieve her anxiety and breathe peace into her body at that moment. I was running my fingers down her neck while begging God to calm her breathing and tell her He was with her! Her breathing settled all of a sudden, and I spoke to her family all that God was revealing to me about her. That she had felt silenced and alone for so long, uncared for and like she didn’t matter. But that God cared about what she had to say, and wanted to restore everything about her. I told them that God had a plan for her voice and wanted to make her well. All of this in Spanish as God breathed it out of me!
Her squeezed shut eyes began to shed beautiful tears. Even if her senses weren’t back yet, they were coming. And God told her what was being said. She then collapsed limp off the bed onto the floor.
Her relatives rushed over as we all got the larger sized girl back up onto the bed. They began yanking at her hair, slapping her face, and pinching her arms and legs in all places. For a whole five minutes, I continue to hold her while watching in confusion “what in the world are they doing!?” I prayed and prayed, and finally broke the silence: “NO MAS! ALTO!” They stopped and stood back, leaving all of her limp weight leaning against my small frame. I realized in that moment that she had been treated this way her whole life. Like an object, not a daughter of the king! I began just petting her hair back into place, rubbing her arm, and scratching her back, while also asking the family to get me a Cold wash cloth and some water for her to drink. They stood back in shock of the thought to nurture instead of be harsh with her. I held her unconscious head in place by her deaf ears while begging God to restore her.
A car finally came to take her to the hospital. That night I tossed and turned all night praying for her. I knew God wanted to heal her heart and her senses!
The next day we went back to see her and as I walked in, I saw her eyes for the first time. They were open and though she still lay on the bed, her eyes held hope. She smiled as I walked up to her bed and gave her a big hug. I told her what God was telling me about her, and that if God had healed her from the anxiety and stroke, He could absolutely go the next step and heal her voice and hearing. I told her that’s what God wanted for her, and prayed over her again before leaving.
I know God showed me His heart in this, and I know He wants to heal her and use her to testify with her mouth of HIS greatness. Please join me in continued prayer for Cadren, and for the hearts of her family members that He is already moving on!
Hurting.
My basketball coach always told me that there is a difference between hurting and being hurt. When your hurt, you stop. But when you’re hurting, you press in and endure. Hurting doesn’t mean throw in the towel. It is rather a call to persevere. In being sick, there have been so many days that I’ve had to choose to see that though I am hurting, I am not hurt. And that while I’m hurting, I can ask God to give out of sources I don’t have in myself to give. Those days, I see His strength and my emptiness like never before.
God came for the hurting! He heals the hurting. He binds up the broken hearted! If I’m physically in pain, I know it’s temporary and that God is not. If I experience sickness, I know God is still alive in it, fighting for me. If I meet people who are broken and hurting, I am the hope-bringing light to them!
Every time I leave a new friendship here, I’m reminded of the beauty of hurt all over again. That hurting is so beautiful because it means I loved deep enough to miss that person. This is the selfless love that Christ shows us an example of. And I want to love each person I meet with that same depth that causes pain to be away from.
