How Low Can You Go?

John 5:5-7 (NIV):  One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years.  When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, He asked him, “Do you want to get well?”

“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” 

Excuses excuses.  Will they never stop?  I mean, seriously, it's been thirty-eight years, Stefan.  Surely after all of this time you knew how to position yourself for the best angle, the best spot, the best time for when the angel was coming.  I just can't help but wonder why you didn't try harder?  Year after year.  Decade after decade?  Sigh.  

As I pondered on these verses, the words "someone else goes down ahead of me" kept rolling around in my tiny little brain.  Someone else goes where?  Down.  Do you see it?

Someone else lowered him/herself.  Someone else bowed said self, humbled even, to get to the place of rescue.  Hmn.  

Still feel like you are too far gone to ever be assisted?  I think if you said "yes" then you might just be a little too full of yourself.  Too much pride is in you to take the necessary move to get on your knees before the Almighty One and ask for Him to heal you.  Ask for help?  You?  Me?  "I've been handling this on my own for __________ (fill in the blank) amount of years. No one helped me then and no one will help me now."

Well, aren't you just Miss Independent.  Shall we cue Kelly Clarkson?  Sorry, couldn't resist.  Well, I could but I didn't.  

You are right.  Again.  You have no man to help you.  It's completely and totally in your hands until you position yourself and realize that without Christ Jesus you will stay where you are: complacent, broken, and alone.

Sorry, I know this wasn't the encouraging word you perhaps sought today but sometimes instead of a gentle touch we need a heftier kick.  Not a punch in the face but a jab to the conscience.  Haven't we been coddled enough?  It's time for action if, as I've asked, as Christ Jesus Himself asked "Do you want to be whole?"

Maybe it's time to get to our knees, sisters.  Maybe it's time to stop looking for that help that isn't coming (contrary to the Little River Band's tune "Hang On.  Help Is On Its Way.")  Maybe like the woman with the issue of blood who dared--dared, I say--lower herself to touch just the teeniest piece of Jesus, maybe then He will come to us and say "Thy sins be forgiven thee. Rise up, My child.  Walk.  Stand.  Come unto Me."

Are you ready to rise?

Let's pray!

Well Lord, here I am again, pointing out the obvious to those who already know Your truth.  We know our excuses, our limitations, and our desires.  Some of us really want to be helped but we don't want to give up control, which is why we refuse to hit our knees when the going gets tough.  Some of us keep looking for that someone to physically come to us and be our life coach and hold us accountable for every bite we eat, every step we take, every book we read, every decision we make.  Like Stefan, Lord, we have no man.  He isn't coming.  

However...however, dear sweet God, we have You.  Oh how I pray today that I would lower myself, my false sense of standards, and come down from my lofty tower and self-made pedestal.  I pray that I will hit the floor, Lord, with a penitent heart and a soul that is ready to rise.  Again I ask You for help.  Be my Saviour?  I need You.

In the name of Jesus I pray.  Amen.

"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.

Stefan

If you know me at all then you know that there is a song that runs through my mind for nearly every occasion.  This morning is no exception!  As we consider verses 4-7 of John 5, the song pictured is the one that popped into my head.  "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" also has been going through my head but for today, let's use Squire Parson's melody "He Came To Me" to plant the seed of our hopeless and helpless state without Christ coming to us. 

Speaking of our verses, let's review them now.

For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had.

And a certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty and eight years.

When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he saith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole?

The impotent man answered him, Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me.

This man--and since we are going to be speaking of him so often, don't you think we should give him a name?  No, I'm not trying to rewrite the Bible but it's just a bit easier to call him Fred or Larry instead of the Impotent Man.  Hmn.  I know!  We could refer to him as Stefan.  Stefan.  Sounds exotic, don't you think, and also keeps him on track with reminding me of how very much he and I are alike. 

So, Stefan is literally on the ground.  Has been there for 38 years.  His only hope (or so he thinks) of getting better is to have a man--someone...anyone--put him into the healing waters of the Bethesda Pool.  Unfortunately, like poor ol' Ricky Bobby believed from the tales he heard growing up, if you aren't first, you're last.  If you aren't first, then too bad, so sad.  If you aren't first, then...Well, you stay in this condition until the next season when the angel comes to stir the waters again.

I wonder how hard he tried?  I wonder how much effort Stefan put into getting himself ready for that season when the angel would come.  Season.  Hmn.  Makes me ponder:  was it a specific time each year, such as when winter, spring, summer, and fall occur?  Was there advance notice that the angel would arrive on such and such date or...Or did one just have to chance it, to be ready in and out of season?  Did Stefan just lie there and hope to get a jump on the competition, counting on some "miracle" to help him out, or did he prepare for the spontaneity  of the angel's arrival?

"I have no man."  

Sounds to me like Stefan counted on the kindness of strangers to get him out of his bind and into the bountiful.  Sounds like he had no friends, for his words of  having "no man" lead me to believe there wasn't anyone close to him to help him out.  After 38 years of being in the same condition, in the same area surrounded by other hapless folks, and after countless times of frustration did he not share his angst with anyone?!

Maybe he did at first.  Maybe he commiserated with the others who had their own infirmities.  Maybe when he tried to tell someone what had led to him being in this condition, maybe they listened the first few times but then wanted to be heard more than they wanted to hear of another's woes.  Perhaps they themselves had been there longer than Stefan and tended to feel that they had it worse than he did.  Maybe Stefan was a whiner who only wanted attention but didn't really want their advice on how to position himself closer to the pool.  I mean really, this spot over here was so much more comfortable and had a prettier view.  He could watch the newbies arrive and keep an eye out for the latest happenings.   Besides, why bother getting close to anyone?  They only expected things from you and wanted to change you, to better you to suit their needs.  Right?  No one really cares about me, Stefan must have thought, otherwise surely I would be healed by now.

Have other people let you down, friends?  Have you ever had a problem or condition that required extra attention that at first these "friends" were glad to provide but soon tired of the time and energy it took into taking care of your needs when their own were so much more personal?  You became bothersome, an annoyance, and soon, you became an afterthought.  An "Oh yeah, whatever happened to Stefan" sort of soul.  When it came out that you were still poor and needy, they quickly wrote you off.  Again.  Out of sight; out of mind.  For years.  Decades.  More than half of your life.

Sigh.

Oh my sweet ones, how I feel your ache and empathize with your plight!  That feeling that no one--NO ONE--cares.  That realization that you are once and for all totally helpless, friendless, and hopeless is one I have been in and if truth be told, often still feel like I am in.  When the chips are down and I am in the pit with them, where is my "man," my buddy, my life-long friend who said she'd always be there for me yet when I call out to her, I get voice mail or unanswered texts?  Where is my "man" who said "for better or for worse" and went and found  the better and left me behind?  Where is my "man" who brought me into this world and then discarded me to suit his own selfish desires?  And what about those church folks who claim to be so much like Jesus?  Where are they when I need a hand out--I mean a hand up?  

He came to me.  Jesus came to me.  Just as He came to Stefan, He came to me and brought me out and through the gulf that separated me from Him.  Did it take Him 38 years to do so?  Did He not notice how badly I needed some help?  Did He not see me lying in my state for all of these years?  I mean, the Israelites wandered for 40 years.  The woman with the issue of blood suffered for 12 years, and the woman with a disabled spirit was bent over for 18 years.  He finally healed them but...what took Him so long?  Why did Jesus not heal immediately?

I don't know.  I don't know why folks are born with diseases and disabilities or why some are afflicted later in life with handicaps.  I don't know why so many hurt and if the condition is a result of sin or if it was created so that Jesus might be glorified, as in the story of the blind man from birth who was granted his sight.  What I do know is that Jesus came to me.  More than once.  Sometimes He came but I didn't acknowledge His presence.  I was happier (or so I told myself) being miserable rather than trusting once again in someone who might let me down as so many before had.  

Okay, I know this has been a longer blog than you probably had hoped for.  So, I'll close for now.  There is still so much more to say though that I hope you will come back next time to see what incredibleness lies in our Saviour that He would take His time to come to us.  And if for some reason you don't know Jesus as Lord, I invite you to send me a note so I can tell you more about that and how to have Him lead your life.  

Let's pray!

Dear Lord, first off, thanks for coming to me.  I don't know if You didn't come sooner because I was still so Stef-involved and hard-headed and coldhearted that there wasn't room.  I don't know if perhaps You were there all along and I just refused to look up because the view from the bottom was so great (ahem).  I don't know when You came to me and I finally realized that without You there was just no chance at all for healing, for wholeness.  But You came.  You came to me.  Me!  

Thank You.  

You were there all along, weren't You, God?  Thank You for lifting my eyes, my soul, and my spirit.  Help us all today to remember that even when we don't feel You or see You, You are there.  You are here.  You came to us and You aren't going to leave us alone.  What wondrous love!  I accept You and love You in return, Father.  Amen.