A little inspiration

 

Yesterday, I was watching this documentary about Gladys Aylward, a British missionary in China and for those interested to watch it, I will add it at the end of this blog entry.

Gladys has lived an amazing life of self-sacrifice and dedication all through the grace of God. Her story is an amazing one, especially because she did all that, single and in great isolation at a time when both those things would have brought down the strongest of men. At the end of the documentary there is a recording of one of her addresses and she says, “I have not done what I have wanted to. I have not eaten what I wanted or worn what I would have chosen. I have not lived in a house that I would have ever looked at twice. I longed, as I’ve told you, for a husband and babies, security and love, and He didn’t give it. He left me alone for 17 years with one book, a Chinese Bible. I don’t know anything about your latest novels, pictures, theatres. I live in a rather out-dated world, and I suppose you’d say, “Well, it’s awful miserable, isn’t it?” Friend, I’ve been one of the happiest women that have ever stepped this earth. I’ve had a great family of someone else’s children, whom I’ve loved with a great love because Jesus Christ loved me and who I am now receiving back love from.”

Her words made me think back of all the times I felt like I was being cheated of a life I should have lived in place of the life that I was living. I felt bitter at times when everyone else around me lived ‘normal’ lives. I felt like a freak and often wondered, ‘why?’, but I wouldn’t change a thing if I had to do it all over again. I thank God for every unanswered silly prayer that I might be praying away right now. He’s a good Father. He knows what’s best for us. In the thick of things, it might look all chaotic and random and meaningless, but I know from those that went before me, that in the end it will all make sense. Maybe not every detail, not every tear and pang of pain, but you’ll be able to see the bigger picture. It might take new eyes in a new reality to make sense of this one, but I am convinced that there is meaning and purpose in everything He does.

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33) 

 

by Cristina Pop

Unreasonable

 

“And a man was there with a withered hand. And they asked him, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?”—so that they might accuse him. He said to them, “Which one of you who has a sheep, if it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will not take hold of it and lift it out? Of how much more value is a man than a sheep! So, it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath.” Then he said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” And the man stretched it out, and it was restored, healthy like the other.” (Matthew 12:10-13)

I’ve had this story on my mind for days now. It’s not Jesus’ most notable miracle, nor is it particularly complex, but it got stuck in some crevice of my brain like it was here to stay.  What prompted it? Well, probably because I was on a particular guilt trip that started to border on obsession.

You see, I have a problem with my temper. Some people struggle with lust, or drink, or coveting. I struggle with my temper. It used to control me like a chain around my neck but by the grace of God I have learned to control it. Not entirely. No, it still rears its ugly head at the worst of times and aided by my awful tongue I end up tearing to pieces whatever unfortunate soul has happened to cross my path. I have no excuse for it. I hate it and I eagerly await the return of The Lord to deliver me from this body of death. I had an incident last week where I have lost my temper, and a poor Englishman was served a full dose of Romanian wrath under the horrified yet apologetic look of my sister who always tries to do damage control in my wake, and all because he couldn’t control his dogs. If I could have fashioned a whip and proceed to flog my flesh, I would have. I know better! I believe better! I sow good seed and it’s absolutely disgusting and discouraging when there’s still so little fruit in me. And then the fact that the accuser shows up is just a bonus, “Look at you! You are one of the redeemed? You, His Own? Ridiculous! You can’t even hold firm for more than a few days, weeks at best, and then, behold the saint! You’re useless! A dirty spot on His robe! Are you a fake? Must be, otherwise you’d act differently.”

Usually, I’d descend into the abyss of despair, take an extended tour and after learning every nook and cranny I’d shyly try to retrace my steps back towards the light. This time though, I only heard within myself, “stretch out your hand” and the story in Matthew came to mind.

The man in the story has a paralysed hand. Luke, relating the same incident, says it was his right hand (Luke 6:6). The part of him that could have made him useful was paralysed. He was there, where Jesus was, with his useless hand. He wasn’t asking for a miracle nor expecting one. He’d been going to the synagogue every Sabbath probably since before his hand got numb. He had most likely accepted his fate and continued to attend fully aware he’ll never get to unscroll the Torah and read before the congregation. He takes his seat in the synagogue and in comes Jesus. The man is just as curious as everybody else. Immediately the learned people in the synagogue ask Jesus, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?”. The man hasn’t gone to Jesus to ask for healing, so why ask Him that? The synagogue was filled with the people of the town, why as soon as Jesus walks in were they convinced He wanted to heal the man with the withered hand? Probably because Jesus came in that synagogue just for this one man. Jesus’ eyes and face and demeanour were probably all screaming, “I found my sheep!” The man is silent. He drags his paralysed hand to his chest and doesn’t dare to hope. He doesn’t say a word, but his heart probably screams, “Look away, Lord… If You’d only know…” But Jesus doesn’t look away, even as He answers the learned, “Which one of you who has a sheep, if it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will not take hold of it and lift it out? Of how much more value is a man than a sheep! So, it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath.” – “Is He talking about me? But it’s the Sabbath… the worst of times, surely not! Wait a minute… am I, His sheep?” He takes a long look at his useless limb, “I don’t know when or how or why I’ve stopped being useful,” He looks at Jesus, and then the most absurd request that has ever been asked of him, “Stretch out your hand.” – “Does He think, I am faking it? That I can just stretch out my hand but refuse to do so? How can He ask such a thing? It’s not like I wouldn’t stretch it if I could, what insanity is this?” Then he looks at Jesus. His eyes are smiling with the joy of the Shepherd that had found His sheep. It dawns on the man that Jesus isn’t saying that because there’s some effort in himself that when properly applied, it will unparalyse his hand. “No. He speaks as if I trust Him, His command will make me well. I am His sheep. I’ll obey.” He stretches his hand, and the hand is made well.

 Jesus always makes unreasonable requests, ‘get up and walk’, ‘regain your sight’, ‘Lazarus, come out’, ‘stretch out your hand’, ‘go and sin no more’. None of His requests/ commands expect you, through rigorous discipline and perseverance, to perform the impossible. It all has to do with trusting Him that says ‘do this’. It’s the recognition that surely He is perfectly able to do in me what He had just asked of me. That if the winds and waves obey Him, so will my flesh. Am I there yet? No. But every time I become useless to my Lord, I believe with all my heart that He will find me in whatever hole I happened to fall in and bring me out of the pit. A hundred times. A billion times. As long as there is breath in me, His intent is not to lose a life, but to save it. Even if my falling has happened at the most inopportune time, on a day when no such miracles can occur, I’ll still hear Him say, “stretch out your hand!” and all I can do is obey.

 by Cristina Pop