"They that are whole need not a physician."

"They that are whole need not a physician."

The impotent man in John 5 (or as I like to refer to him, Stefan) had been in his situation for a long time. We aren't told his age but I daresay his condition wasn't one since birth. Therefore, and because of what Jesus told him after He healed him, Stefan had in part been responsible for his condition.

I may have mentioned that Steve and I are doing "The Armor of God" study by Priscilla Shirer. This morning's lesson was on the breastplate of righteousness and just how very important it is to guard your heart. Your soul. Your inner being. Your inner self.

Before we finished our lesson and began our day, I prayed for my hubby and for me. I tend to need it more than he does. Seriously: the running joke at our home is that Steve's heart is three sizes too small. While mine may not be three sizes too large, it's much more tender, much more sensitive, and often quite easily damaged. Therefore, this breastplate is a piece of defense I can scarce afford to be without.

I wasn't sure where to go with today's lesson so I went to the cabinet where our rarely used Bibles are kept and found the one I referred to yesterday. Tattered. Torn. Well-worn and used. I flipped through it and found dates listed (marriages, births, deaths). I saw scriptures I had highlighted or underlined. Reading a couple of them, I smiled, remembering vaguely some past sermons from beloved preachers. Turned some more pages and I found a card from Steve and two notes from my daughter. Trying to remember when they were written took me back to those times as I tried to recall when I was a mommy instead of a granny. A couple of bookmarks perused over and one obituary notice and then it happened. The dagger. The cutting of my spirit. The sagging of my soul.

No, I won't share that with you because then this blog would be all about me instead of God. It worked a little while ago and got me off track, got my thoughts on me and past "poor-ol'-Stef" situations that don't belong in my present. They aren't going to keep me chained, keep me bitter, keep me impotent. For too long of my lifetime they had me imprisoned but...but not today. Today I am stronger. Protected. Ready for those darts--but only when I remember that each situation I allow myself to be in has its own temptations, its own stumblingblocks, and its own powers. When I walk in the truth and when I keep my attention on Christ, then the focus is on Him, not me.  

Like Stefan, I laid around for many many years, wallowing in my miseries, looking for someone, anyone, anything to pick me up. Be made whole? Ha! Who could fix this broken one? Some pieces were gone--gone, I say. Some were so shattered that how could they possibly be superglued back together? Even Mod Podge didn't stand a chance at reassembling the mess I was.

Will you be made whole? Can you be made whole? Remember at weddings what words the pastor ends the ceremony with: "what God hath joined together let no man tear asunder"? One day, friends, our Groom is coming for us and He will restore, repair, and regenerate in us all that was lost, all that was stolen from us, and all that was shattered. Let's not just lie waiting though in our broken parts. Get your battle gear on and if you can do nothing else, if you are so crippled and so incapacitated, then just stand. Stand, friends. Get up.

Let's pray!

Dear Lord, how I thank You for all of the available tools You put at my disposal. However, Lord, because the devil is so sneaky and so wily, I must be on guard even when I think the area I am in is safe. My church, my pretty purple room, the songs on my Ipod, the tv shows I watch, the books I read, the people I communicate with all have the potential to bring me harm when my defenses are down and I take my eyes off of You. Help me, help those who are reading this blog, please, Lord, for we need You so. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and join us with You. Amen.