It seems I’m the world’s worst and the clumsiest of all. And since my brain surgery, it has gotten even worse. I fall several times every month. I need to use a cane now. (And if you look up “klutz” in the dictionary you’ll see my picture, lol.) 😃
When I start to dance,you had better head for higher ground!
Even so, I do love the idea of dancing, but I’m like Bozo, the circus clown, only wearing roller skates! I lurch from side-to-side and I’m always on the verge of falling on someone’s lap, which is a real hoot!
But there is just one dance that I am waiting for.
It’s the dance I’ll have with my Savior. There will be a day, in a place and time where He will call me home and He himself will teach me how to dance. I know it’ll be incredible, and it’s a day that I anticipate, and honestly, I hope it comes soon. (He’s finally going to heal me!)
But to really dance you must first liberate your heart.
You must cancel out all self-consciousness. If you are self-aware, you will never enter into the joy and wonder of the true dance. You will be a perpetual wallflower, living only on the edges. And, you will be very sad.
It seems you must dance in your heart before you can ever dance with your feet.
I desperately would like to dance. And when I see Him clearly on that day, I’ll have no cane to slow me down. I will be as graceful, and to be perfectly honest, I won’t be watching you, (I’m sorry). I will see only Jesus. And I believe that my heart will beat for Him exclusively.
Jesus shed His blood for me.
I belong to Him. He forgave all my sin and has given me eternal life. Knowing this fills me with such joy that my feet won’t stand still. He redeems me, and is this not a cause for a dance, or two, or maybe three? Maybe eternity will be filled with more joy than we ever dreamed possible?
Some of you have been damaged; mashed up in the grinding gears of life, chewed up and spit out. It’s hard to dance. I understand.
But I also know that your life can be astonishingly full of grace– you have endured so much, and yet Jesus intends to occupy your thoughts and vision with real hope. As His disciple, you’ll discover your special dance. And when you finally see Him, your heart will finally be free to spin and twirl.
He after all is the dancing Lord.
“Young women and young men, together with the elderly, will celebrate and dance because I will comfort them and turn their sorrow into happiness.”
It’s easy to romanticize physical suffering — especially when you’re not the one experiencing it.
Saints like Amy Carmichael, who spent over twenty years bedridden, and Joni Eareckson Tada, a quadriplegic who lives in constant pain, can evoke peaceful images of unbroken communion with God. We may imagine that it’s easier for them to endure pain and weakness than it is for the rest of us.
Yet the reality of physical suffering is that it’s insistent and intrusive. No one gets used to it. Pain demands our attention. Time slows to a crawl, particularly in the middle of the night, when we’re begging God for the relief of sleep. We feel alone and isolated. No one else can enter the prison that our bodies have become.
Pain Accumulates
If that weren’t enough, physical pain rarely exists in isolation — it’s usually accompanied by loss, weakness, and dependence. Often, we require help with basic daily needs, and we worry about the burden we’re putting on others. We second-guess every request, not wanting to bother someone one more time. Will people get tired and think we’re “too much”? Do they resent their lack of freedom?
We longingly remember the carefree days before our physical struggles altered our lives, when we could do what we wanted. Now we measure our energy in teaspoons rather than buckets. We weigh every decision, every action. Saying yes to one activity means saying no to many others. It is hard not to envy those with fit bodies, who seem to have no cares.
Pain, loneliness, and longing can give way to depression and despair. We cry out to the Lord for relief, but relief doesn’t come. The cancer spreads. Sleep eludes us. The pain intensifies. The medicine stops working. The side effects multiply. Our caregivers grow weary. Our friends stop checking in. Our resources run dry.
Doubt Advances
The vibrant faith we once had begins to fade — which is exactly what Satan wants to happen as we suffer. He wants us to doubt and fall away from God, convinced that he is indifferent to our cries. Satan knows that we’re susceptible to discouragement when we’re physically depleted, so that’s when he attacks. As physical needs scream for attention, Satan whispers to us, “Does God even hear you, let alone really care for you? If he does, why isn’t he delivering you?”
“If God’s greatest blessing is himself, then perhaps sustenance is a more precious gift than deliverance.”
Insidious doubts slip in, making us question beliefs we once held rock-solid: Are we deeply loved by an all-powerful Father? As soon as we recognize the mental shift, we need to stop and cry out to God, asking him to meet us in our sorrow, to deliver us from our pain, and to show us evidence of his goodness and love. Are we fixating on all that we’ve lost, on how God hasn’t delivered us, on how hopeless we feel? Or do we recognize that God is with us, working for our good, and caring for us each moment?
What we think about in the moments of our deepest pain is critical. Our mindset will determine how we approach the questions that bombard us. Here are three common questions I’ve asked:
How can God be “for me” if I’m still suffering?
How can God use my weakness for good?
What good can come in moments of overwhelming pain?
How can God be ‘for me’ if I’m still suffering?
Sometimes God miraculously delivers us when we plead for relief, like at the parting of the Red Sea. Other times he sustains us, as he did with manna in the wilderness. The Red Sea deliverance freed the Israelites, but their need for manna kept them dependent on God. In gathering manna, they had a harder time forgetting their reliance on God. And if God’s greatest blessing is himself, then perhaps sustenance is a more precious gift than deliverance, since it can keep us in constant communion with him.
Take the apostle Paul. He begged God for deliverance from his thorn in the flesh, but instead he received grace — grace to bear the thorn, grace to be content with weakness, grace that would carry him through other trials as well (2 Corinthians 12:7–10).
When we realize that we can depend on God in our weakness, we learn to trust him in everything. Anyone can thank God for quick deliverance from physical suffering, but we often forget him until the next crisis. Yet when he sustains us in our pain, we’re confident that he is with us always.
How can God use my physical weakness for good?
We may think our physical weakness is keeping us from maximum fruitfulness, but that’s impossible. Our weaknesses are a part of God’s plan for our lives; they are intertwined with our calling. Paul thought his thorn was hampering his ministry, but God knew that it was the key to his strength: it forced Paul to be wholly dependent on God. When we are depleted and exhausted, lacking any resources of our own — it is then that we fully rely on God.
And in that reliance, we discover the power of God flowing through us — the same power that raised Jesus from the dead (Ephesians 1:19–20). This power keeps us enduring when we want to give up; it showcases God’s glory and brings lasting change. Because Paul relied on God’s provision, he accomplished more for the kingdom with his thorn than he could have without it. His greatest strength lay in his submission to Christ.
Even Jesus’s greatest strength appeared in his greatest physical weakness.
Throughout his ministry, Jesus impacted others by his actions. He calmed the storm with a word. He fed five thousand with a few loaves and fish. He cast out demons, healed the sick, and raised the dead. He turned the world upside down.
But at the end of his ministry, from the Last Supper on, Jesus allowed others to act upon him: he was led away, he was whipped and mocked, he was beaten and crucified. When he submitted to his captors, the crowds saw weakness rather than what was really there: Jesus’s strength and power.
Just before these horrific events, Jesus begged God to take the cup of suffering from him. But it was through Christ’s submission to the will of the Father — to torture and humiliation, to physical abuse and carrying his own cross — that God brought about the most astonishing display of his power and grace.
The issues we face can be formidable. Our relationships and our circumstances can bring daunting obstacles to joyful Christlike living. We live out at times from unpleasant realities and less than ideal situations. We are broken believers who follow Jesus through our deadly minefields.
Struggling with mental illness is just as much a challenge as with any other handicap. The young man struggling with bipolar disorder or someone else who faces a clinical depression, may seem to be tangled up in something quite brutal and very hopeless. “Will I ever find normal again?“
I know that struggle and at times it has ripped me apart. But I suppose the grinding hopelessness is the worst part of that.
I want to encourage you in this. The issues we face on a daily basis are hard. And we don’t minimize their complexity or diminish their bitterness. They can be awful. But the Holy Spirit is with you in the midst of your issues. That’s a promise.
There is a wisdom emanating from the fire. It’s only waiting for discovery. The flames can not destroy us when God shows up.
I believe that the constant presence of difficulty produces a faith and tenderness that can’t be just prayed for.
The most kind and gentle people are those who themselves have been afflicted.
Please understand we have a real challenge. We have to walk through the trials or tests, not around them. We see a mountain, and God gives us a shovel. But He also gives us the strength we need.
But I’ve discovered a tenuous joy in these issues— more precisely, a joy because of them. Our illness is not meant to destroy us. That is not why God has allowed you to be afflicted.
I definitely did not choose this path I’m on.
Think about Jesus’ great love for people with hard issues:
“In that hour he healed many people of diseases and plagues and evil spirits, and on many who were blind he bestowed sight.”
Luke 7:21
Jesus has special spot for the afflicted, we see him repeated touching them. He drew them like a magnet draws iron. And he is the same today in our time. It is comforting to know that he cares for us and that we are understood. Let him draw you into his caring presence.
Our disabilities do not trouble him. Yes, I know the issues are formidable. But your obedience in them is an exquisitely special commodity to Jesus. I believe He values the shaking faith of broken people far more than the happy shiny people with no pain or scars.
Faith is precious in his sight and holds its value for all eternity.
Understanding this should be a cause for joy for the broken believer. Having the lightness of heart, right in the middle of our disability, often transforms these issues into a lighter burden. “We are beaten but not totaled. Incredibly challenged but not completely devastated.“ The apostle wrote this in his letter to the Corinthians, and it gives us hope.
I have learned that if I can bless a difficult thing it will bless me.
If we curse it and it will curse us. If you bless a situation, it has no power to hurt you, and even if it is troublesome for a time, it will gradually fade out, but only you can only sincerely bless it.
There’s a deep joy waiting for those who choose to do this.
The apostle Peter waswell acquainted with failure. He understood blowing it big time. I’ve identified at least 11 times when he did the wrong thing; He stumbled repeatedly, but that encourages me. (I’m glad he struggled.)
I suppose that we must acknowledge that Jesus saw something in Peter–a definite future of a ministry that would be critical in the lives of the other disciples, but it wasn’t going to be easy for Peter. Jesus was alert and He prayed specifically for His bumbling disciple.
“…but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.”
Luke 22:32, ESV
Here’s my list of Peter’s greatest flops:
Peter can’t figure out the Parable of the Sower, so he asks Jesus for further explanation. We too don’t understand all the things Jesus taught, we get confused. Peter’s example is a strength for us. Jesus doesn’t reject our ignorance. (Matthew 15:15-16.)
Peter and the others try to keep the children away from Jesus. (Mark 10:13-14.)
Peter is full of selfish ambition and argues with the other disciples as they walk with Jesus. (Mark 9:33-34; Luke 22:24.)
Peter tried to follow Jesus by walking on the water. He failed and sank; Jesus took him by the hand and gave him a gentle rebuke. (Matthew 14:28-33.)
On the Mountain of the Transfiguration Peter witnessed an incredible event when Jesus was seen in all His glory. Peter blew it by not understanding what had just happened. (Mark 9:2-8.)
Peter actually is strongly rebuked by Jesus and called, “Satan.” (Matthew 16:23.)
Peter resists Jesus when He is washing the disciple’s feet. (John 13:5-9.)
Peter fails to listen to Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane and falls asleep. He was told to watch and pray. Peter failed, and fell asleep. (Matthew 26:36-46.)
Peter, with “oaths” and “curses” denies knowing Jesus in the courtyard of the High Priest. (Matthew 26:69-75.) See also, Matt. 10:33.
Peter is broken over his denial of Jesus. It seems that he’s a complete failure as a disciple and returns to his boat and goes fishing. The other disciples follow him.(John 21:1-3.) We also see Jesus restoring Peter to Himself. (John 21:15-19.)
Peter is intimidated by the Jews, and withdraws from fellowshipping with the Gentile believers. He is soundly rebuked by Paul “to his face.” (Gal. 2:11-14.)
It seems that none of these are spiritually fatal, but perhaps they could be. In every case listed we can see the tenderness and goodness of the Lord Jesus who forgave and restored Peter. He loves His disciple much more than Peter realizes.
At times our walk is also somewhat discouraging.
We sin, and we fail in so many ways. It seems overwhelming at times. The Holy Spirit calls us to pray and sing, but if we’re honest we often can’t really do these things. Our failures seem to disqualify us to be disciples. A kind of “spiritual depression” falls over us. We seem to believe that God is angry with us. We think He condemns us.
But God’s love for you is total and everlasting.
“I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.”
John 10:28
On that day you accepted Him as your Savior a covenant was made. He’s committed to bring you through life and to Himself. Forever. Jesus is completely faithful and He loves you deeply and most unreasonably. We call this “grace.” And it’s amazing.
God has initiated your salvation. He launched it and is in charge of it.
God works over and over in your life to make you like His Son.
When you die and stand before Him that process will be finished completely.
“And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”
Broken Believers 