We all have moments like this. Instances which, when we remember them, the creeping heat of shame comes over us: when we wish more than anything that our lives were like computer files which could be deleted – whether a brief, even petty, moment hardly enough to register as a bit or nibble, or in contrast vast Yottabytes of memory. Times which still flash through our consciousness, unbidden and unwelcome, in the waking hours when we feel most alone as the world around us sleeps in apparent tranquillity.
For the woman described in John chapter 8, caught in the act of adultery and brought to Jesus, there is a moment like that which must have seemed to last an eternity. Shockingly interrupted in a moment of deep intimacy (however much it was not theirs to share), she is dragged away, presumably desperately scrambling to pull clothing around her in a futile attempt to cover both her outer nakedness and her inner degradation. Roughly handled by sneering men, past the prying eyes of both strangers and fellow villagers, she is thrown at the feet of the prophet. A man who, she has heard, speaks and does only good. A man whose reputation is even more colourful than hers but profoundly more welcome. She knows she is likely to be stoned, as though this was her act alone. She fears not just the pain of the rocks but the intensifying, were it possible, of her disgrace and humiliation. She may not even be aware that she is actually just a pawn in the attempted set-up by the religious cynics.
Jesus’ bending down and writing in the ground with his finger has birthed much speculation. What did he write? Was it something to help her, and in any case could she have seen it through her tears, her eyes lowered with shame? We don’t know of course, though it is fascinating to imagine. What interests me more though, is that Jesus deliberately chose not to tower over her, emphasising their differences, but to stoop down to her level: a specific example of His entire life stance as he “set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human….an incredibly humbling process.” (Philippians 2:6 The Message)
With piecing insight, Jesus challenges her sanctimonious indicters. They can stone her – it’s the law – but only if they can declare themselves innocent. Did he list their sins, their moments of private disgrace, in the dust? Or was his astute and unrelenting gaze enough? Whatever the cause, they slink away, leaving her alone with Jesus and awaiting, surely, the pain from the first rock from the only guiltless man, the one entitled to throw it.
He doesn’t, of course. Condemnatory stone-throwing has never been Jesus’ approach. Instead he releases her, offering the possibility of a life she has not yet known. She is tenderly handed a freedom she could never have envisaged in that terrifying moment of capture.
Perhaps this might capture a little of her experience….
I had lost all fight
Before they picked up stones.
More exposed there, clothed
Than ever I had been naked;
Seeing the hatred
In their eyes
I knew they were somehow
Stoning something in themselves.
Easier to call me an adulteress
Than see me
As a woman
Seeking some comfort
The only way she knew
When life had crushed
All dreams and hopes.
And then I saw him.
Such difference in his eyes.
Understanding was there
Though no excuses
Seeing past
All shame and regret
To what I could have been.
And could be still.
This month’s theme is listening to and learning from the life of Jesus. Surely there are lessons for either side of this apparent – but actually non-existent – divide? There lurks within each us the potential Pharisee, legalistically criticising the other and trading compassion for a flimsy, false superiority. Equally, we all conceal our failures and regrets, however deeply hidden and of whatever kind, lest they be seen and our private selves exposed, risking rejection by a world we sometimes perceive as infinitely better than us.
Jesus comes gently to us in our tender vulnerability and welcomes us, whether we are more aware of the sinner or the Pharisee within. Not a stone in his hand and no word of condemnation, he writes words of acceptance with his blood, and still sets us free, with the possibility of a life we could never have imagined before the encounter.
We’re going to try something new and see how it works. Top Ten Tuesdays will take our theme for the month and, with your help, create a new list from different perspectives. Our theme for September is “The Prayerful Imagination: Praying creatively for a more meaningful connection with God and others.”
We’re still thinking about what lists would fit best each week as we explore this theme. The easier ideas are things like, “Top ten websites for creative prayer”, or “Top ten books to help us pray more creatively”. I’m thinking of creating a list of my top ten creative ways to pray in/through the neighborhood (watch for it!). What would you like to see? We need your ideas both for lists and for content for those lists.
Since this is the end of August I’m going to keep our first top ten list simple: Top Ten Godspace Posts on Listening and Learning.
Here goes!
10. Hearing, Healing, Worshiping by Lynn Domina
9. Looking Into the Face of Jesus by Christine Sine
8. Listening to Jesus’ Early Morning Prayer by Lynne Baab
7. Christ Walk with Us by Christine Sine
6. Learning the Rights and Wrongs of Leadership from Jesus by Christine Sine
5. Let Us Go Into the Day with the Love of Christ in Our Hearts by Christine Sine
4. On Listening and Telling by Jeannie Kendall
3. Listening to the Life of Jesus… in a Tree by Andy Wade
2. Identifying Your Great Cloud of Witnesses by Andy Wade
1. Five Must-Learn Lessons from the Life of Jesus by Christine Sine
And a resource list:
Learning from the Life of Jesus – a resource list
There you have it. Now help us plan some lists for Top Ten Tuesdays in September!
This post is a special post for International Kitchen Garden Day which was celebrated yesterday.
The humble herbs have been faithful companion to both cook and gardener for centuries. Anyone with room for a herbaceous plot in their outdoor space is blessed indeed, and so is their food. Flavour and fragrance runs careful riot in rows here and reminds us of the difference one small sprig or sprinkle, one leaf, might make to the whole of a meal. Likewise, one person with a full and flavoursome faith may make ordinary tasks fragrant, done as they are for the love of God. And so the kitchen and its garden can become places where the Lord’s hospitality is shared out, where people may come and discover that his ways do indeed taste good, and the smallest gesture of kindness rises as a pleasant aroma.
Traditionally a kitchen garden was a walled off piece of ground near the kitchens of a large house, where the vegetables and herbs needed to keep a busy household running would stay sheltered from the wind and be quick to fetch for the harassed scullery maids, almost like a living larder. Nowadays walled gardens are rare, but the immediacy of such freshness is a practicality still much appreciated by many, and lots of people have vegetable plots or allotments, or even grow their herb gardens on a windowsill or in a window box.
All this makes me wonder, who or what the flavours are that we would be lost without? Who are the stalwarts that we go to for wisdom or solace that are so close or so available that if we aren’t careful, we can become guilty of grabbing a few leaves whenever we need to, taking them for granted? Aunt Rosemary, Brother Basil, Father Thyme?
As a writer, my mind immediately goes to the books that I always have near to hand. My life’s window box contains my Bible of course, but also my journals, and those people who have had most to contribute to my learning: Richard Rohr; Teresa of Avila; Brother Lawrence; Francis de Sales; and so on, but also those books that bring a hint of magic into my life by taking me back to my childhood: L.M. Montgomery’s Anne Series; Johanna Spyri’s Heidi; C.S. Lewis’s Narnia Chronicles. And the wit and hilarity of Jane Austen, Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett are always close by. But doesn’t each one have their own resoundingly individual flavour? Doesn’t each writer, each artist, each person, each soul, have an essence that enriches our experience? Jesus used the image of salt to help us understand how to live out our lives as flavoursome taste-bringers.
I hope then, that we can all learn how to be our individual, appealing and wondrous selves, singing our own song, writing our own words, speaking with our own voice, expressing our true selves and not one of us exactly like another. This world is God’s kitchen garden, and perhaps we might imagine him walking slowly through the rows, in the cool of the evening, rubbing his fingers on our leaves and delighting in the fragrance that rises, savouring each plant and what it brings to the mix.
Transitions mean change. They are always challenging, sometimes painful. We want to hold onto the familiar and the comforting. The leeks and garlic of Egypt, all that sustained us in our past lives, beckon us.
Change is usually marked by deliberate steps we take that say life is going to be different. Jesus marked his move into adulthood (at the age of 12) by staying behind in Jerusalem to ask questions of the religious leaders (Luke 3:46). He inaugurated his ministry with 40 days in the desert (Luke 4:2) and he marked his transition towards the cross by a deliberate and determined walk towards Jerusalem (Luke 9:51). Jesus knew when it was time to say life is going to be different in the future and he knew how to prepare for those changes.
As you know I have just stepped down from my leadership position in Mustard Seed Associates and I am finding that I need to mark this transition with changes in my physical environment as well as my spiritual observances. Here is some of what I have already learnt through my transition:
Transitions require us to identify the stability points that will not change.
Part of what I have reflected on over the last few weeks is the foundations of my faith, the bedrock of my life that I know should not change. I need the security of knowing that not everything will change. I need to be able to stand firm in my faith as well as in my important relationships.
Question: What do I need to hold onto that will strengthen my faith and beckon me towards God’s love?
Transitions require deliberate steps towards change.
It is easy to settle into the familiar patterns of the past and not consciously work towards the changes God wants us to make. After all, what I am letting go of is my own creation. Now I get up in the morning and I want things to be the same as they have been for the last 10 years. Its comfortable and comforting to know where I am and what I should be doing. Now suddenly there are lots of new options out there for me. I don’t know what I should be doing. It is easier to look back than to look forward. Deliberating working towards change has been a very important and at times painful journey for me.
Question: What do I long for that should be letting go of?
Transitions require the creation of new boundaries and new rituals.
Tom and I have just embarked on a major remodel in our house. It is part of the transition, part of the establishing of new boundaries and new rituals. It will provide a new environment for both of us to work in and encourage us to establish new practices and new priorities.
Question: What changes may be necessary in your physical environment to prepare for the spiritual changes ahead?
Transitions require space and time for dreaming new dreams.
Transition time is busy time. We have a hundred and one tasks to hand over and spaces to clear out. It is easy to fill our days without really thinking about the future. Sometimes the dreams that moved us towards transition seem to get lost in the process.
We need to take to time to breathe, to sit still and reflect. Clearing our calendars for a season, going on retreat, taking time to allow God to renew and refocus us is essential.
Question: What space is necessary for dreaming new dreams for the future?
Transitions require help from advisors.
Over the next few weeks I will be engaging with a new spiritual director and a life coach to help me move into this new season of my life. I am also reading a lot and seeking the counsel of a broad array of friends and wise counsellors. I have lots of ideas that I think are from God but realize that I cannot move into the journey God has for me without help.
We all need companions who can walk beside us, as well as those who can guide and help direct us into new seasons of life.
Question: Who are the companions and advisors that help us through transition?
Transitions cannot be rushed.
I wish that my transition season could be over and done with in a couple of weeks, but I know it will actually take months, possibly longer before the dreams and possibilities emerge fully. It is easy to get impatient, to try to give birth prematurely. This is not a season to hurry through. The season between conception and birth is essential and even after that there is a long and sometimes slow season on growth to maturity.
Question: How have we tried to hurry the transition process and tried to give birth prematurely?
What is your response?
Maybe you are not in a major transition time like I am, but I am sure that the next few months holds some form of minor transition that require the same kinds of questions I am asking. Perhaps you are starting a new school year. Or you may be preparing for a new liturgical season – Advent and Christmas are not far away. Or, at least for those in the northern hemisphere, it might be the desire to hold onto the last days of summer and the flavour of fresh picked tomatoes.
Sit and reflect on the transitions in your own life. What is God saying to you at this time that could help you through this season?
by Margaret A Trotman
I am learning something about myself, about my Lord Jesus, my God, my Spirit and my connection with God; and it all pertains to Moses, my cat.
I prayed yesterday and this is what I realized. She disappeared a few months ago and I haven’t given up looking for her though others made up their minds she was either dead or just gone. I prayed to St Francis,to ANY Angel who would hear, to Raphael,for crying out loud!, for her return. Spending sleepless nights, callings, searching night and day.
I have over a hundred animals collectively and when 1 isn’t there I won’t rest until I find it. I understand in my tiny human way how the Lord feels when one of His Lambs disappears from Him. You don’t even have to head count, you just know when one is missing and which one it is.
He waits and searches them out. I call, I wait silently, I put out food, I watch; as my Father, he whispers, he watches , he waits. I know where she is. After months of hiding she has been seen.
My Father, never lost sight of me. I see her and she see me we stand there looking at each other, I’m so close but too far to touch her, she hesitates and then turns to hide once more in the safety of the darkness of the woods. I stand there heart sick and tearful that she didn’t come but know she saw me and knows I’m there still.
I understand my Fathers hurt with this one cat, whom I love as all my others, no more no less just differently and at times more intently. Like my Father, who loves all of his children- some need more attention than others , some more patience – but all are loved equally but differently.
I understand on such a tiny scale my Fathers hurt when one of his runs and hides. I see his patience; waiting for us to just return to Him. I feel his heart break, as mine is that she isn’t safe at home in my arms, just like when we aren’t safe in His. On such a small small scale, I have learned that a soft gentle presence is the assurance we all need in our heart. I can’t even fathom my one lost cat trying to find her way back to the familiar love and comfort of home, compared to a world full of lost lambs searching in the dark for that small light to guide them Home.
So I pray, in His time and my learning, that his Will be done- that she will return home to the Love she knows is here. Like my Father, I will never give up. But I will let go, because, in all Faith, I can.
She knows I am but a whisper away, and so is my Father. Thank you, my Spirit, for putting this thought and prayer on my heart as a salve to mend the tear.
Margaret Trotman runs a small farm Southern Spirit Farm, found on Facebook at https://m.facebook.com/SouthernSpiritFarm/
with her husband in NE Fla., where they grow lavender as well as an array of four legged and feathered babies- She is a writer and photographer – and has a passion for cooking. As an artist her outdoor kitchen is her favourite pallet in which to create. Though it’s not much by worldly standards, she knows, through it all, she has been truly blessed by God. she blogs at magisark
Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (Matthew 16:13-16)
Jesus’ question really gets to the heart of our theme this month, “Listening to the life of Jesus”. How we answer this question also reveals how we listen to Jesus; it digs into our underlying assumptions about who Jesus is and that, in turn, shapes how we listen to his life and words.
Who do you listen to? Who do you believe? Those may seem like silly questions to be asking, but let me ask another question: Who are you?
Our first answer to that question might be to describe what we do and where we’re from. For example, my name is Andy Wade, I’m the Director of Mustard Seed Associates. I’m a father, husband, I live in Oregon, and I’m also an ordained pastor with the Mennonite Church. But that doesn’t really tell you who I am. Who am I, really?
Who I believe Jesus really is has everything to do with who I believe I am. If Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God, then who I am is quite different than if Jesus was just another man. If Jesus didn’t rise from the dead then who I am is also very different from who I am if he did.
Resurrection is at the heart of who we are as believers in Jesus. Paul says it most clearly in First Corinthians when he confronts some who say there is no resurrection:
For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men. But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. (1 Cor. 15:16-22)
Resurrection is about transformation. It is about the power of God to heal our brokenness, heal our relationships, and give us the courage and ability to walk as Jesus walked in the world. It is about the power of God to demolish hate with love, and through the Church, to bring healing, hope, and salvation, in the fullness of that word, to the world. Resurrection shapes us into the kind of people God intends us to be.
In his second letter to the Corinthian Church Paul says it this way:
Our firm decision is to work from this focused center: One died for everyone. That puts everyone in the same boat. Jesus included everyone in his death so that everyone could also be included in his life, a resurrection life, a far better life than people ever lived on their own. Because of this we don’t evaluate people by what they have or how they look. We looked at the Messiah that way once and got it all wrong, as you know. We certainly don’t look at him that way anymore. Now we look inside, and what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new. The old life is gone; a new life burgeons!
Look at it! All this comes from the God who settled the relationship between us and him, and then called us to settle our relationships with each other. God put the world square with himself through the Messiah, giving the world a fresh start by offering forgiveness of sins. God has given us the task of telling everyone what he is doing. We’re Christ’s representatives. God uses us to persuade men and women to drop their differences and enter into God’s work of making things right between them. We’re speaking for Christ himself now: Become friends with God; he’s already a friend with you. (2 Cor 5:14-20 The Message)
Those are powerful words. How do we evaluate or judge others? So often it’s by what they have, how they look, or who they know. Then we go on to measure ourselves in a similar fashion, making insignificant things important and important things insignificant. When we view Christ in this way it’s much easier to also view ourselves this way… and vise versa. But the reality is that, in Christ, everything has changed and we are God’s ambassadors of that change!
But we don’t always live like we really believe it. We struggle with doubts, we confess Jesus as Lord but then believe God could never use someone like me. We believe Jesus is raised from the dead but see ourselves through worldly eyes and never quite receive the transforming power of Jesus’ resurrection for our own lives.
We sense the Holy Spirit urging us to bring the love of Christ into the pain of a friend’s broken relationship but we fear rejection. We know the refugee crisis is huge but feel too insignificant and fearful get personally involved. We donate to the homeless shelter but don’t know the names of those living on our streets and have not taken time to hear their stories. In fear we lock the doors of our hearts. I cannot do it. I’m not good enough, not trained enough, not gifted enough, not strong enough.
Then we hear Jesus asking, “But who do you say that I am?”
In John 20:19 we read:
On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord. Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.
Here were the disciples, the core of Jesus’ followers, sitting in fear behind locked doors. Peter and John have seen the empty tomb and the grave clothes. Mary has seen the resurrected Jesus and reported it to the disciples. Two of the disciples have walked with Jesus on the road to Emmaus and reported his resurrection to the rest. But they sit behind locked doors in fear.
Text: Christine Sine, Photo: Andy Wade
Luke tells us that when Jesus first appeared to them behind those locked doors they thought he was a ghost. Jesus asked them, “Why are you so troubled and why are these doubts arising in your hearts?” Here they were, Jesus’ chosen leaders for his Church, confused, frightened, doubting, and fearful.
Jesus had already died and had already been raised to life again. But they did not yet understand in their minds or their hearts the significance of what had happened. Peter was there, the same Peter who confessed that Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. “Who do you say that I am now Peter?” “Who are you now?”
“Who am I? I am a confused follower of this Jesus who died and some say is now alive. I am a disciple of Jesus but I live now in fear behind locked doors. I am a fisherman and I’m not sure what to do. Maybe I will just go back to fishing. I had thought that he was the Messiah but now I don’t even know who I am!”
It is one thing to answer with our minds Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am”. It is quite another to answer that question with both our minds and our hearts, a combination that empowers us to action. The confused and fearful disciples soon began to understand.
- If Jesus is Lord, then I am not just a simple fisherman.
- If Jesus is Lord, then I am not a sinful tax collector.
- If Jesus is Lord, then I am not an unclean woman cast out by society.
- If Jesus is Lord, then I am no longer doubting Thomas, but Thomas who was first to confess Jesus as God!
In Christ they overcame their fears. In the power of the Holy Spirit they went on to build God’s church. If Jesus is the Son of God, God who walked among us, was crucified and raised to life, then I am a new creation!
So who do you say that Jesus is? If you say “The Messiah, the Son of the Living God”, If you say, “My Lord and my Savior”, then who does that make you? You are a child of the Living God. You are redeemed by God for the purposes of His Kingdom. You are an Ambassador of reconciliation. You are chosen, equipped, and sent in the power of the Holy Spirit to proclaim, and live, the ministry of healing and reconciliation to a broken and confused world.
So those things God has been calling you to do – you know what I’m talking about – those things you know Jesus is speaking to your heart to do and to say. Those things you’ve been putting off or ignoring because you don’t think you’re good enough, trained enough, spiritual enough, or courageous enough to do. What will you do now? Who do you say that Jesus is? If he is Lord and Savior, then “All things are possible for those who believe.”
“Who do you say that I am?” How will you answer that question this week? It might just change your life.
This post was reworked from a sermon I preached at Grace Mennonite Church in Hong Kong in 2006.
[team style=”full” team id=”13770″ limit=”-1″ image_w=”100″ image_h=”100″ display=”excerpt”]
More Posts by Andy
Lectio Tierra. My ears perked up as Pat spoke these words. I know Lectio Divina, but what was this Lectio Tierra he spoke of? In his introduction to “Celtic Spirituality and the Land” at our Celtic Prayer Retreat last weekend, Pat Loughery introduced us to this idea. Basically it’s taking the practice of Lectio Divina, the divine reading of Scripture, and applying it to your encounter with nature.
The Celts knew Jesus as the Word of God. They also saw scripture as the little (in size) book testifying to God and nature as the big book revealing who God is. It was perfectly natural for them to go into nature and learn of God. This makes some folks nervous, and several years ago I would have been nervous as well. But actually we should take comfort in the words of Paul to the church in Rome:
“For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. Ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made.” Romans 1:19-20
We often get caught up in the rebellion mentioned later in this passage, “worshiping the creation rather than the Creator”, which is a significant warning to us about knowing the difference between the two. Unfortunately many of us have over-reacted in fear and forgotten that God fashioned creation to give testimony to who God is. This truth becomes evident as we re-read scripture, especially the Psalms and the parables of Jesus.
With that out of the way, here’s a very simplified outline of how Lectio Divina works:
- Reading the passage through slowly and deliberately several times, listening for God’s voice in the written word.
- Meditating on what you’ve read. Taking time to really hear the words and thinking about what God might be saying to you specifically, right now, in the reading. What word or phrase stands out to you?
- Praying. Having a deep and personal conversation with God about what you’re hearing and experiencing in the passage.
- Contemplating, or resting in the truths you have heard and how they apply in your life.
So what might it look like to enter into Lectio Tierra? I actually wasn’t too surprised that I had been practicing this all along in my garden, on mushroom hunting trips, and out camping.
Reading – Heading out into God’s very good creation, I read the environment around me. How is God present? What might God be using to catch my eye and draw me closer? As I did this exercise at the retreat I noticed a tall stinging nettle. (There are a lot of them there). This nettle was tall and green, but two of the leaves just below the top were black and shriveled. Was there a message here I was supposed to hear? I stopped, looked, listened. It felt like I was trying to force a revelation into being. Then my eyes focused behind the nettles. I had been at the site for almost a week and walked by this tree nearly a hundred times and never noticed. This time it stood out as if to invite me into its story.
A tall, beautiful alder stretched its branches into the heavens. But what first attracted my attention was this ridiculously long and deep scar extending over 15 feet up the side of the trunk. What was its story and how might it be speaking to me? (Or if you’re more comfortable, how might God be speaking to me through this tree)?
Meditating – There is a story in this tree. I have no idea how the scar was made. I’m guessing there was once a large branch there that, either through wind, weight, or another tree crashing down upon it, was violently ripped from the trunk. While I didn’t know the details of that story, another reality was setting in.
This was a serious wound; there was nothing superficial about this. Just shy of the core of the tree, this wound had to have caused great trauma to the tree. Toward the top of this gaping whole I could easily see where layer upon layer of healing had taken place. But even with this severe trauma, the tree continued to grow, its remaining branches joined by new branches to reach toward the heavens. In fact, if you were to come upon this tree and only look upward, past the damaged parts, you’d likely think it was just like all the other healthy trees in the area: rich, strong, full of life.
Praying – I’ll admit up front, the meditation and praying portions seemed to overlap or, more accurately, lead me in a time of cycling from meditating to praying to meditating and back again. Jesus, what are you saying to me through this tree? What lessons, or cautions, do you have for me? There were some obvious ones, but what eventually came together as a whole was how much I am like this tree… we are like this tree.
We all are wounded. For some, the wounds don’t go very deep and almost seem inconsequential. Others of us have deep and painful wounds. Healing doesn’t happen all at once, it takes time. There were layers of healing on this tree. How it survived I don’t know, but it did. It not only survived, it thrived! Somehow it kept growing. It not only grew, it flourished! In my life I often want to rush past the wounds and on to healing and flourishing. But the journey of healing shapes both who we are and how we respond to others.
And this gash. So deep and so long! The wound didn’t just disappear when the tree began to move beyond healing and on to new growth. Oh, how I long to cover up my wounds! We have entire industries created around making the broken and damaged appear unblemished, but what if that is not the way of God? What if, like this tree with its wound in full display, our lives are meant to be transparent? How might we live differently if we knew others saw our brokenness and we saw theirs?
Reflecting back on scripture I’m reminded just how wounded, how broken, the heroes within its pages are. Can we say, “Be more like Peter or Paul”, without also remembering their failures? For that matter, what about Abraham, Moses, and King David? No, like this tree their wounds are out there. But also like this tree they found healing and learned to grow, to thrive.
Contemplation – Resting with these insights, these lessons from a tree, I begin to move into a sense of peace. I can breathe more easily not fearing that someone will come by and rip off the veil hiding my scars. I can embrace my scars. I can seek forgiveness and reconciliation where necessary and receive healing, love, and grace from God and those around me. I do not have to be someone I’m not. Whether through bad choices or bad circumstances, what has happened has happened. There is a wound. What I do now is up to me. I choose the way of shalom, and I can rest.
[team style=”full” team id=”13770″ limit=”-1″ image_w=”100″ image_h=”100″ display=”excerpt”]
As an Amazon Associate, I receive a small amount for purchases made through appropriate links.
Thank you for supporting Godspace in this way.
When referencing or quoting Godspace Light, please be sure to include the Author (Christine Sine unless otherwise noted), the Title of the article or resource, the Source link where appropriate, and ©Godspacelight.com. Thank you!