Christ was a very serious man. Constantly being harassed by his family, the church leaders, people reminding Him that he was “illegitimate…” Mocked for not attending school…
Surrounded by suffering. Healing the many who came while unable to touch them ALL. And kept awake at night by seekers like Nicodemus or woken up on boats that would never sink while He was on them, trying to rest.
He never rested. Was always seeing the weak, the sad, the heartbroken and the stumbling. Always in a fight either with demons or priests. Almost killed- taken to the top of a hill, and eventually, tortured to death.
His life was lived with imperfect people when He came from perfection. Talk about draining and heartbreaking daily. It’s like me going to walk in a trash heap for 30 plus years! Sitting with people whose odour is foreign to me who spent all my life in a garden of fragrant flowers.
We can’t imagine the order and peace and joy He left to come to our disordered world.
The Bible is littered with heartbreak and injustice. All the things that make us long for a better place. From the fall of man and the first death, in Genesis to the time when the beast will force people to worship him or die, written by a blinded prisoner on a lonely isle. But I love it. I read it and wish I had more time to read more.
Today was surreal. Truly surreal. Only those with true chronic illness and children with special needs will understand how every hour comes with reminders of how bad things are. Yes, we have air. Yes, I have a home. But if you ask me how I am, it would not be me to tell you, “I’m great!” Cos it’s not true. But someone ranted at me that that’s exactly what they want from me.
A sanitized version of my history, and a fake version of my present. I’m not allowed to mention that as I’m typing, my SI joints are miserable, only that I’m glad I can type. I can’t tell you that just vacuumed my room but needed to ask the teens to finish off due to pain and fatigue, only that I vacuumed part of my room.
I’m not a Pollyanna Christian. I’m real. I want to show people that you can love God IN the valley. Not pretend I’m on the mountain peak-that would be lying by omission.
There are great days. Or rather, there are days when I slept for five hours with no insomnia. Yes, aided by medication. But they are there. They’re just followed by children who hide used diapers in wardrobes and skip lines when I’m teaching them to read. I have to remember my medication, and the medication of four other angels.
I will tell it all, or tell nothing at all. I know my Saviour is seeing it all and strengthening me through it all. If HE can bear it, so can all those who bear His name, just like I could bear everything others came to me week about-mothers who insulted their mouths, saying they look like pigs’ anus- I can bear it. Tell me you were assaulted -I can bear it. Tell me your aunt tried to kill you with an axe at your only mother figure’s funeral, I will be shocked and hurt with you. I can do it. And when I’m awake at night, I have more to pray for so I can focus on you not on why I’m awake.
“Bear ye one another’s burdens…”
“I can do all things through Christ Who strengtheneth me.“
I can bear the victory. But I can also bear the war that came before, and the war you will fight till we “study war no more.”
I hope one day, this old acquaintance finds that it’s in being hopeful while in hellish circumstances that purifies us and forms us into His image-the One Who bore our disgusting sins without flinching, living knowing He came only to die, till he breathed His last for us.
Pollyanna Grace will come when we live in heaven. Because there, everything-my present and my recent history after a day or two- WILL be perfect. And I want to experience THAT!🙏🏾
They said I should write a book 