A few days ago when reading the gospel of Mark, I was hit with this image from Mark 5 of the hemorrhaging woman who received healing from Jesus. While another person comes and asks Jesus for healing for his daughter, the woman presses through the crowds and touches Jesus' cloak, confident that she can be healed. There was a huge testimony of faith in that moment that struck a deep cord inside of me - she believed that all she really needed was to be near Jesus and she could be well. He didn't have to speak. He didn't have to touch her. She just needed to be near Him. I felt a stirring inside as I weighed the hypocrisy of my fasting to be near Jesus and then making appointments with doctors and counselors for my treatment. I felt like I was hedging my bets - like I would go to Jesus, but it didn't really matter if I couldn't find Him because I was taking care of the problem on my own anyway. In that moment, I knew I needed to come to Jesus for healing. While I am not against doctors or medicines, I knew that in this moment in my life Jesus was asking me to be all in - totally dependent. No fall back plan. No effort of my own power. Trust Him alone.
I sought counsel and prayed before canceling my appointments, but each day that passed confirmed my call to be reliant on Him. And boy has He shown up!
At this point, I really have more questions than answers, but for the first time the questions are going deeper than the momentary struggle. I've been reading Tim Keller's The King's Cross, which is a work showing the life and person of Jesus through the gospel of Mark. Since Mark was the gospel which has been reaching into my heart so deeply, I wanted additional insight into what I was reading. Once again, Tim Keller has put into words so much of my personal experience.
I am like the paralytic, desperately seeking the Lord's healing for my heart and mind. Yet Tim writes of Jesus' response in first offering forgiveness, instead of physical healing. Keller says (pg. 28) "By coming to me (Jesus) and asking for only your body to be healed, you're not going deep enough. You have underestimated the depths of your longings, the longing of your heart."
Oh, I wanted to crumble in tears and shout with joy - this was it. I'm asking for Jesus to heal me, but it was still on my terms. I wanted to define to my Creator what was broken. It's like the people who come to the ER and tell my husband what is wrong with them and what medicine they need. They want help, but only on their terms. This limits our receptiveness as to what our true need actually is and how to treat it. In Lean terms, we aren't seeking the root cause, but only focusing on the symptoms.
Today, it happened again. Keller writes about Jesus interacting with the Pharisees and addresses their self-righteousness. While we might not all turn to religiosity, we all have areas where we are trying to establish our identity in ourselves. I've done this more ways than I can count. I thought being popular would make me happy and tried to establish my identity on keeping all my friends happy and excited. I thought if I was the center of it all, then I would feel loved. And yet, I would die a little inside every time I heard about an activity where I had been excluded. It wasn't enough to have a marvelous time with them - I wanted every one of their great experiences to be with me. If they were my identity, how could they still have fun if I wasn't around? So I turned to work - aimed at being the best, the brightest, and desperately needed by my coworkers. If I was indispensable, then I was confident that I had worth. My titles and paychecks and meeting minutes validated my existence. Or what about being a Mom? No greater call exists than the rearing of another person, right? So I poured myself into my kids, wanting to nurture and support and guide and love in the ways that only a mother can. No one else can be there mother - they were born from my body and forever mine. Except that they are independent people. And each day they become more independent. And they don't need me - not how they did before. That will keep changing. And they do things I don't like. They don't always agree that I know what is best. They have their own thoughts and ideas. And so they should....but what about me? So I work, and I work and I work trying to find the place where I finally feel at home.
Hiking in the woods with my husband, I cried out to him, "I am so lost." For years now I have been spinning as each place where I go deeper just leaves me more empty. My restlessness grows and the fears and anxiety of the awful truth remains looming in the distance. I'm not needed. I'm not special. I'm not loved. It's so draining to find validation of your worth. There is always someone better, smarter, funnier, prettier....someone who is a better wife, better mother, better friend, better daughter. Someone who quilts better or cooks better or exercises more consistently. I was even jealous of my husband's love for the Cubs, thinking, "I don't have anything I'm that passionate about.". I lived a life of petrifying comparison, because in this neighborhood, you don't have to look to far to find someone more accomplished. It is exhausting, depressing, and totally demoralizing. Why do anything at all? Why even get up this morning?
And today I read in the Kings Cross (pg 43) "On the cross Jesus was saying that the work underneath your work, the thing that makes you truly weary, this need to prove yourself because of who you are and what you do - that is finished."
Jesus doesn't want me to take a pill and feel better, because He knows I have never truly held on and clung with both hands to the freedom the cross offers. A physical healing of my mind is so much less than He wants to offer me. He wants me to experience Himself. And nothing less will do.
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