Category: sorrow

So What’s Next ?

“And Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your faith has made you well.” And immediately he recovered his sight and followed him on the way.”

Mark 10:53, ESV

God has touched you in a profound way, (at least I hope so.) Only He could’ve done this. You’re not the same person now. Just like Jesus healed blind Bartimaeus, you too can really see. The beggar becomes a follower. (Mark 10:46-53.)

So what’s next?

There is always another step to take as we follow Jesus. Everyday there is something new. Our salvation is given freely, but we discover that it’s something active–more like a flowing stream and less like a stagnant pool. If we truly have been “healed,” we’ll want to follow. And now each day is a joyous adventure.

After all, we’ve been terribly blind for a long, long time.

Bartimaeus would never be able to truly explain what had happened to him, at least not in a perfect or complete way to the others–but no matter, it really wasn’t necessary. (But I must believe he tried.) He could see!

Notice the sequence of events in verse 53—

  • Jesus: “Go your own way.”
  • Bartimaeus: “..followed Him on the way.”

He was now a true follower. No longer a blind beggar, but he now was a true companion of Jesus and the “church.” He now walked with other believers in the Master’s band of disciples. (Having been blind and instantaneously given sight changed him forever.)

So what happened next?

I suspect Bartimaeus followed the Lord all the way. Although scripture doesn’t say what happened, I believe this ‘ex-blind’ man was now a visible witness to any with eyes to see. Bartimaeus became an authentic witness–God’s megaphone to the power and mercy of Jesus Christ.

I can’t say exactly. Each believer has a different story.

But I do know tomorrow’s life episode is going to be something fantastic, and a challenge. The fruit of the Holy Spirit is given to each who are truly being discipled to follow. The road in front of you just might be excruciatingly hard, but truly there is joy in our journey with Jesus.

“You called, You cried, You shattered my deafness, You sparkled, You blazed, You drove away my blindness, You shed Your fragrance, and I drew in my breath, and I pant for You.”

   Augustine

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Living With Chronic Pain

Chronic Pain

Sometimes we live in darkness. We suffer and it’s hard. We mentally accept God’s grace and His love for us, but in our heart we remain untouched. Pain saturates everything it seems. We seem to go through the motions, but deep down we’re convinced that we’ll never find the light that so many claim to have.

Have we been cursed?

Pain fills our life. We live with something that is persistent, and our hope is a day when it’s all over. Psalm 88 is our Psalm. Nothing is sugar-coated. It is raw and unabridged. It’s pain under a microscope. That Psalm is yours.

For my soul is full of troubles,

    and my life draws near to Sheol.

I am counted among those who go down to the pit;

    I am a man who has no strength,

Psalm 88:3-4

I love you,

Bryan

When Your Rocks Become Gems

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“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison,”

2 Corinthians 4:17

There is an old folk tale told by the Arab people.

Weary travelers meet up with a man while on a hard journey. “Two more miles, and when you stop, fill your packs with the rocks along the road” he said. “In the morning light, you will become happy and sad at the same time.”

It was dark when they arrived. They were pretty much exhausted, and hardly took any time to think about picking up rocks. They needed food and sleep and there was a few hours to rest; who had time to ponder the odd riddle of an old man?

But there were a few that listened; several went and picked up the gravel– the stones they could find in the dark. Those who listened filled their bags– some little, others more so. The majority did nothing. Who wants to carry rocks in their packs?

The morning came too early, and soon they were back on their journey. There was little time for anything but packing up to move. For some their packs were heavier, and they stopped to inspect their load.

Suddenly, someone shouted out. “Oh my God! Check your packs!” The one who cried out held up an emerald the size of his fist. Others cried out with excitement as they discovered rubies, diamonds and jade gems.

You see, the rocks they had picked up in the dark were really jewels of staggering wealth.

Of course, it only mattered to those who had listened. What some regard as a burden becomes something of significance in the daylight. Perhaps our trials will become more than we could ever fathom. It is worth consideration.

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”

Romans 8:18

P.S. Don’t doubt in the dark what God has shown you in the light.

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Tears Do Things

I’ve been thinking a lot about tears lately—in part because Pastor Bryan pointed out to me how many hits my post titled God Keeps Your Tears in a Bottle has had, in part because I’ve cried more than a few tears this year, and in part because I’ve been listening to Johnny Cash’s Cry, Cry, Cry in my car all week—and I thought I’d share my thoughts with you all here.

First of all, people cry for a lot of reasons.

Earlier this year my sister died of breast cancer at only 61 years old. I cried, a lot. It’s normal and even helpful to shed tears over the death of a loved one even if we know where they are going when they die, because it allows us to express the grief we feel over not having them in our lives any more here on earth.

I remember a time I had a previous boss say some very cruel things to me in front of other people. She accused me of having done things I had not based on motives I did not have. I was very angry, hurt, and frustrated. And I cried, a lot. I didn’t cry in front of her, mind you, but afterwards I did. And it was good to express that anger to others.

I’ve cried tears of loss, anger, indignation with frustration, compassion, and even of joy. I sometimes cry tears of regret when I hear a song about the sacrifice of Jesus, knowing it is my sin that made him suffer.

Just yesterday I experienced unexpected tears.

I was reciting the prayers of the people in church, which I’ve done many times. Our church has many prayer concerns for members, family, and friends with health concerns and more. Towards the end of the prayer I began to lift up prayers for a church member’s brother-in-law who is a pastor back in New York because he is faced with conducting the funerals of two teens who had been killed in an accident last week.

I recently wrote this poem.

Tears

Tears of sorrow, anger
drench my soul
course without end
eroding pain, anguish

Where once only aching
occupied my heart
now is a deep empty ravine
carved by a river of tears

Tears of forgiveness
water my soul’s riverbed
allowing flowers of love
to flourish and grow

Peace arises in my heart
held aloft by God’s promises
the fragrance of sweet alyssum
blossoms of my soul

I think the saddest tears of all, though, are the tears of major clinical depression. These tears are so sad because the one who cries them doesn’t know what purpose they serve.

I remember when I was suffering from depression sitting in a chair and just crying. When someone asked me why I was crying all I could say was, “I don’t know.” And I truly didn’t. The tears didn’t wash away pain; they only seemed to make it all the worse.

In the midst of such tears, there is One who knows their purpose.

Romans 8:26 says: “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” Through prayer God can sometimes lead us to an understanding of the purpose of the tears of depression, and ultimately to healing.

That makes your tears a good thing.

“Tears are often the telescope by which men see far into heaven.“

Henry Ward Beecher

Check out Linda’s site.