Tag: Jesus Christ

Crooked Kisses

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“The Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’”

Luke 7:34

God, in some profound way accommodates Himself to your ‘sickness.’ He will never turn away from you.

We discover that Jesus has a beautiful quality–He becomes quite tender and gentle around any spiritual disease. He gravitates to the broken and sinful. His love for sinners is a fact we must consider over and over. It’s absolutely critical that we recognize this.

And if we can only understand this, it’ll change us forever.

In his book Mortal Lessons (Touchstone Books, 1987) physician Richard Selzer describes a scene in a hospital room after he had performed surgery on a young woman’s face:

“I stand by the bed where the young woman lies. . . her face, postoperative . . . her mouth twisted in palsy . . . clownish. A tiny twig of the facial nerve, one of the muscles of her mouth, has been severed. She will be that way from now on. I had followed with religious fervor the curve of her flesh, I promise you that. Nevertheless, to remove the tumor in her cheek, I had cut this little nerve.”

“Her young husband is in the room. He stands on the opposite side of the bed, and together they seem to be in a world all their own in the evening lamplight . . . isolated from me . . private.”

“Who are they? I ask myself . . .

“He and this wry mouth I have made, who gaze at and touch each other so generously. The young woman speaks. “Will my mouth always be like this?” she asks. “Yes,” I say, “it will. It is because the nerve was cut.” She nods and is silent. But the young man smiles. “I like it,” he says, “it’s kind of cute.”

“All at once, I know who he is.”

“I understand, and have to lower my gaze.”

“One is not bold in an encounter with the divine. Unmindful, he bends to kiss her crooked mouth, and I am so close I can see how he twists his own lips to accommodate to hers. . . to show her that their kiss still works.”

This is your Savior. He has always been there for you. He is seeking a kiss of spiritual intimacy.

But if you think somehow you are getting to be a great kisser, or you think maybe you’re looking desirable, I feel sorry for you. For it’s He who wraps himself around our hurts, our brokenness, and our ugly and our ever-present sin. He loves the unlovable. He kisses those who shouldn’t be kissed.

I guess I’m starting to know who I am.

I need Jesus so much to love me like I really am: brokenness, memories, wounds, sins, addictions, lies, death, fear….all of it. (Take all it, Lord Jesus.) If I don’t present this broken, messed-up person to Jesus, my faith is dishonest, and my understanding of it will become a way of continuing the ruse and pretense of being “good.”

God truly loves the unlovely. I am learning this. Slowly. Far too slowly.

He is passionate about those who have been disfigured by sin. And for those playing “make-believe” and are trying to find some sort of ‘spiritual Botox’ are not being truthful. Only by clinging to Him can find real healing and true acceptance.

For some reason, and I don’t really understand quite why, but He delights in kissing lips that are crooked.

I’m glad because that is really who I am.

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

     Henry Ward Beecher

The Angels are Bewildered

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“When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something’s suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful.”

~Barbara Bloom

Just a short word of encouragement to all my suffering brothers and sisters. 

I believe God loves you (it’s not a cliche) and has a tremendous plan for you.  Scripture tells us that we will reign with Him (and the last time I looked, there is no disqualification for being mentally or physically ill). 

Having suffered through your whole life will be just an enhancement, a bonus when you finally are held by Jesus, and you can rest in His arms.

Those of us who struggle with depression, mania, and paranoia know a lot about cracks and brokenness.  Mixed states, anxiety, and social withdrawal all have taken their toll. Some of us hear voices. Addictions and suicide attempts have made up our past life (and even sometimes try to intrude on the present.)

Some of us have physical disabilities. We come to worship from our wheelchairs and walkers. Some of us are deaf, and others are blind. But we come still. Our hope is in the coming King who promises us a new and fully redeemed Kingdom. There will be no more pain.

I once had a dear friend with advancing Alzheimers She understands little of what is happening to her,  but she still worshiped God with the rest of the congregation. Before dementia, she was a dynamic spiritual marvel.  Without a doubt one of the astonishing women I had ever met.

Now however, when she raises her hands, I believe the angels step back in a deep awe. 

I just realized this–the angels understand worship, they really do. Praise seems to be their specialty. Each angel that surrounds the throne has a PhD in “worshipology.”

But you know what? The angels really don’t understand our worship out of our pain, weakness, and brokenness. Since they have never experienced it, I don’t think they understand.

Let’s worship God with our cracks and brokenness.  In John 12:1-7, a woman breaks open a jar of nard on Jesus’ feet, while the other disciples hang back and complain. 

But always remember this dear one–it’s only by brokenness and then being poured out that one can release the perfume.

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We Are Not Crushed

“Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death, so that we would not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead.”

2 Corinthians 1:9

To be chronically ill often means living with awful frustration. We can’t do what we want, we are ‘trapped’ by a disease we never asked for, and we’re held hostage by our minds and bodies. We once had a job– a career… and our time was occupied by that.

We wanted something else, anything more than being very sick.

I once was a pastor of a small church. I also taught Gospels for several years in a local Bible Institute. I loved ministry very much. I enjoyed helping people and teaching the Word. I endeavored to be faithful in the ministry. I hope I did.

With the sudden onset of a brain tumor, followed up by a diagnosis of severe depression, my life more or less exploded. I had extensive memory loss. I knew I had to step out of the ministry. I simply could not function. It was a hard thing to leave it behind.

The post-op recovery following the tumor was an ordeal, as I had to relearn much. A few years later I ended up on disability; I was unable to work, and my symptoms were so unpredictable. I dealt with profound depression and a solid dose of paranoia and fear.

My depression grew even more profound with the stillborn death of our third child just 3 days before her delivery, Things suddenly ground to a standstill as my wife and I tried to process all of this. I guess I just couldn’t understand and more or less just shut down. I spent months in bed, unable to function.

The isolation of being ill seems worse than the pain. We wonder why this is happening to us, and we hear lies about our own unworthiness or God’s anger. We think that the Church has abandoned us. We can feel cursed, forgotten, or even worse. (Maybe even irrevocably lost?)

Satan craves our spiritual destruction, and he snares unsteady souls.

I admit I have been slow to learn this– but God brings good things out of the dark. I’m embarrassed by my personal lack of acquiring all of this. Now I’m starting to learn finally, and I want His words to reflect these truths.

I’m learning how to walk in brokenness.

His light will shine, and the treasure is found in clay vessels. Brokenness only means the treasure is now seen clearly. It’s important to note–jewels lose none of their value by being surrounded by broken clay. Our weaknesses are being turned into goodness, understanding, and love for our brothers and sisters.

Troubles of many varieties will pay us a visit. Count on it.

“We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed.”

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

Bryan Lowe

Visit my new site: alaskabibleteacher.com

Walking the Tightrope

The Balancing Act

Circus performers have my enthusiastic admiration– especially the tightrope walkers! They move with such grace and courage. Their work above the crowds must be perfect, or else. I don’t even want to consider their failure. (I hope they can bounce).

To be a mentally ill or disabled Christian is just as formidable. We must walk out our condition 24/7, 365 days a year. It is relentless. We struggle with a weakness that pits us against symptoms and gravity of a spiritual kind. We get little support from others– sometimes criticism. It often is a very solitary feeling. We are often overlooked or scorned.

My particular rope is depression. Everyday I mount up and walk out on to it, holding my breath. I still fall a lot, but have a good safety net, and the Holy Spirit is my strength. Losing my balance happens. I pick myself up and climb up the ladder for another go at it.

“In fact, we expected to die. But as a result, we stopped relying on ourselves and learned to rely only on God, who raises the dead. 10 And he did rescue us from mortal danger, and he will rescue us again. We have placed our confidence in him, and he will continue to rescue us. 11 And you are helping us by praying for us.”

2 Corinthians 1:9-11, NLT

We must rely on God. It is His “job” to keep us, repeatedly. So day by day I “walk the line.” My meds are my balance pole, and I don’t need any special attention. I do whatever the day brings, and even that is from His hand.