February 17, 2012

Everywhere is Safe


For about four months I have been having extremely odd health problems that the two doctors I've seen about it cannot explain.

My primary doctor sent me to a specialist, and, realizing the specialist didn't believe a word I said and was just wasting my time and money (a bad habit doctors have), I am now going back to my primary doctor today with no further answers than when I started.

I've been gearing up for this all week... mostly by harboring a healthy dose of anger towards modern medicine, the situation itself and my abject lack of faith towards a positive outcome.

And yes, at times, some of the anger has gone towards God.

Actually (now that I think about it) in being angry at the situation and the people involved, it turns out ALL of that anger ultimately ends up being funneled towards God.  Scary.

Here is the problem: I go back and forth between believing that everything is from God, allowed by God, and thus God's will and subsequent responsibility, to withdrawing my faith and hope into myself and seeing the whole thing as a mistake.  I am the victim.  God, the only one who can help me, hasn't done a single thing about it for four months while hundreds of dollars go out the window to fund medical tests that tell me nothing about the problem.

"Um, Rabbi... I hate to wake you up, but the boat is sinking and we're gonna die," the disciple said.

In believing myself forsaken, I take all the love out of my relationship with Him (after all, if He cared He would help, right?) and discover that I don't feel so safe in God or around Him anymore.  I then wonder why I'm so angry, tense and lonely in my spirit.

My jaw starts clenching extra hard when I sleep and there is a headache always loitering around the right side of my forehead.

This is a vile land to dwell in.  If I can't (because of my unbelief) feel safe with God and about God, then all hope truly is lost and safety is nowhere except in the shallow escapes that we all know our tendency towards.

BUT (Cas, listen)...  If those thoughts and feelings characterize a state of unbelief, then what about a life of REAL trust in God... what about a life where everywhere and everything is safe?

What if everywhere is safe?

Wretched, chronic disease.
The death of a friend or love.
The greatest fear that has actually happened.
A raging sea in Galilee.
A cross.
The very one He gave Himself to.  It was safe if he went knowing that God His Father had decreed it.  Jesus obeyed His Father rather than insisting on keeping His rights and comfort... and Jesus won.

Here's how every war, internal or otherwise, is ended:
1) utter victory, the literal breaking of the opposing force...
2) or simple surrender.

It's radical, but God recommends the white flag, and He points to Jesus and every other person in love with Him in the Bible as the example of it.  With "I surrender," not only does the war and agony of it cease, but His deep comfort swoops down on our battlefield and bundles us up in invincible peace and hope (which is exactly what we want and exactly what we did not think surrender would bring us).  This applies to every part of our hearts that maintains that tense, sniveling, self-entitled conflict that we know is there between us and God.

But think of the battle's end... where we stand clear headed at last, calm and unclenched, glad to be holding the ensign of submission.   Finally understanding how amazing it is to "just let go," wishing surrender to His authority would have happened sooner.   It isn't about getting my way in the situation anymore.  I know that whether a disease takes me down or He heals me, I will not be ashamed for trusting Him.

In this our struggle has once again proved God right.  Whatever we have "lost" in our surrender doesn't even take up space in our memories anymore.  We are too busy being excited about where He's taking us in His victory parade.

Well, doctors... little do you know and that's alright.


MsFitz said...

Cas, your thought process is beautiful and such a powerful reminder. Thanks for always do that for all of us who join into your conversation..
Praying for you and Ian as you go through this process.

Audria said...

Thanks for sharing Cas, this really is an amazing reminder. I took a lot from reading this. xo.

Hediedthatimightlive said...

I needed to hear that. Thank you my dear friend! <><