Many years ago, nine to be exact, I participated in a week-long two-fold conference. The conference was intended for those whom needed healing from past abuses or hurts so that they could then, in return, lead courses for others who needed freedom from past wounds.
I had no idea throughout that difficult week that the biggest abuse of my life was awaiting me in the future. I also had no idea that the wounds would come from within the church, from the hands of a person I trusted—a man of the cloth.
I know my story is not unique nor isolated to myself; which is why I am sharing.
Throughout the past nine years of limping along on my faith journey, I have met some of the most amazing wounded believers, men and women whom I might have never stopped to notice if not for the handicap of my own limp.
Now that I am a part of a healthy church, my prayer has turned from one of seeking personal healing to one of a deep desire to know my Maker like never before. My prayer is to offer hope to other limping believers—not because I am all better but because I recognize something I was unable to see before:
The wounded cannot sit quietly in the shadows of the church awaiting a touch for our own hearts so that we can feel worthy enough to help others.
This is a very tough juxtaposition for a believer who thinks he or she must be “all better” prior to lending a helping hand to another. Truth is, we have more to offer in our present state of brokenness than we had to give prior to acknowledging the fragility of our own hearts.
Pause and consider the beauty of Jesus walking along the dusty road, crushed on every side by people. Within the crowd there was a woman who had been bleeding for 12 years. She was tenacious enough to reach out and grab the edge of Jesus’s cloak. Jesus was unwilling to overlook this desperate woman but instead stopped dead in His tracks for her: “Who touched me?” Jesus asked. When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.” But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out of me.” Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.” (Luke 8:43-48 NIV)
Once our focus shifts from dwelling on our own impossible sets of circumstances to instead one of pressing in to touch our Savior, our faith grows. We are restored. There is no pressure to “try harder” or “do better.” What a relief when we are able to come out from hiding, fall at the feet of Jesus for healing and be received in His presence due to no merit of our own just like the bleeding lady.
In humility, we need only reach out and grab ahold of Jesus—whatever we are bold enough to grab—His hand, the edge of His robe— in whatever state of brokenness we are experiencing.
Can you imagine having the tenacity to trust your small faith to a Savior who knows you, loves you, and longs to bring healing and peace to your heart?
Me neither—but I’m willing to try.
Stay the course…
Sheila
