Category: struggle

The Healing Power of Jesus

“They came, bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men. 4 And when they could not get near him because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him, and when they had made an opening, they let down the bed on which the paralytic lay.”

Mark 2:3-4

In this Gospel story recorded in Mark 2:1-12 we read of the four friends who brought the paralyzed man to Jesus. What a privilege it is to carry those we love to our Lord for His healing presence to surround them.

Their simple faith is what we are called to. “Paralyzed” people are waiting for us to only act. If God gives us eyes to see, we will see them.

I was inspired to write this simple poem as I thought about this man and his friends. I hope it blesses you. 

Let Me Carry You

You lie alone broken and weak
Unsure if you will make it through
Seeing a future dark and bleak
To Jesus let me carry you

Your daily troubles set in stone
Seem heavy with unchanging hue
And though you think you’re all alone
To Jesus, I will carry you

You struggle to remember love
Ev’ry feeling painfully blue
I will bring God’s grace from above
To Jesus let me carry you

aasignLinda

My personal blog is at anotherfearlessyear.net.

Doctor’s Orders

 “And hearing this, Jesus said to them, “It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick; I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Mark 2:17

I am convinced that as “master strugglers,” who just happen to be believers, that there is a deep truth we must understand. In a nutshell, the terribly weak get sprinkled purposefully into our churches–they have a much needed ministry, a honest calling to become the ‘audio-visual’ (AV) department of our churches.

Remember “show-and-tell’ in grade school?

We display for all who can see, especially us, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. We can be really mixed up, and really confused. But in contrast, He has become our everything, Jesus is now our all in all. As AV people, we show and declare the deep kindnesses of God. We stumble more than others, and we definitely display His grace.

We are meant to be seen and heard, because that is what the AV department does best.

But that is really not our natural tendency. We hate our many failures. But Jesus spoke of becoming a “candle on a lamp stand,” that gives light into the house. I suppose because of all our inconsistencies, this is often frightening–but this is our certain place in a dark, and very foolish world.

We’re now on display, whether we like it or not.

Because we belong to the AV department, we’re compelled to announce the solid mercy and kindness of God. Maybe in this short life, that is all we can really do. Fair enough. But still we hear that frightening call to become visible for Him, and to point to His fantastic glory. Jesus deserves this, and it seems He uses the worst He can find.

It seems we know far more about sin than we do about holiness.

We may become quite intimidated by this ‘special ministry.’ It seems we know far more about sin than we do about holiness. Quite a few of us are expert sinners. Some of us have our  Ph.D in sin and failure. We have taken training in failure, and are quite proficient in it.

“This is a trustworthy saying, and everyone should accept it: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”—and I am the worst of them all.”

1 Timothy 1:15, NLT

Our sins and weaknesses, depressions and sicknesses, have become even more evident over time. We are the ones who walk with a definite limp. We will falter, and we stumble. But we continue to turn to Jesus–over and over. And in this persistent action, others will see the immense mercy that is poured out on rascals such as us. We will be those AV people.

As messed up as we are we keep coming repeatedly, over and over and over. We keep hanging on, and keep finding forgiveness and grace.

We dare not let go.

“Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

John 6:68

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The Plow and Jesus

57 As they were walking along the road, a man said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.”

58 Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”

59 He said to another man, “Follow me.”

But he replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”

60 Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”

61 Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.”

62 Jesus replied, 

“No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

Luke 9:57-62, NIV

There’s to be no whitewashing the way of discipleship–there’s no glamour, no special recognition–no acclaim in it to speak of it openly. I guess this is the “real” way of being His follower. The path Jesus has for me demands I give Him my whole heart. Heart enough to turn it all to Him. Heart enough to give Him total commitment.

Jesus seems to make it hard to follow Him. But is it really?

We can see this in His responses to each prospective disciple. His statements to each possible follower seem harsh, difficult, and a bit “unreasonable,” but He doesn’t receive these men unless they do what He says.

Discipleship demands that we give up what we hold dearest.

What happened to these three “would-be” followers? Did they return home dejected and frustrated? To follow in Jesus’ footprints means we give up our personal agendas, and turn our backs on what is closest and dearest. We must renounce everything, and give Him preeminence over all.

These are hard verses with profound implications.

But this passage is given to us for a reason. We dare not minimize what it means to be a disciple. We must grasp the plow with both hands, and we can’t look back. All that we do is a fair response to His mercy, and His kindness. There is incredible joy in all of this.

“Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ. Unless he obeys, a man cannot believe.”

    Dietrich Bonhoeffer

brokenbelievers.com

Front and Center

John 8:3-11

3 Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. 4 “Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. 5 In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” 6 They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.

Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. 7 When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. 9 When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. 10 When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, Lord,” she answered.

John 8:3-11

I remember how Jesus defended me. I had been led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me.

Especially not for me.

The temple police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the lustful looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary.

I’m ashamed, I committed adultery, I had slept with another man who wasn’t my husband.

I was to be stoned, to have hard rocks thrown at me by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man who I slept with was never charged, he escaped and it was I that would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.

My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that.

They put me front and center. They were going to test Him. They were going to destroy me.

These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They wanted to trap him.

Jesus seemed to understand the implications of this satanic effort.

Only Rome had the power of execution, and yet the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?

It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He seemed to look right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.

Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.

I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something that revealed the sin in the hidden hearts of the men who were accusing me. In that moment, they quickly dropped the case against me. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.

And it was then that Jesus looked directly at me.

I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I suppose I half expected the worst.

Yes, he did confront me. But He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.

“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. But my freedom from judgement came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.

At that moment I understood completely.

“God pardons like a mother, who kisses the offense into everlasting forgiveness.”

    Henry Ward Beecher

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