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Peace, Purpose & Posting

For the past few months I haven’t been posting much. I’m still writing. Heaven knows I’m writing! But I can’t seem to complete anything. I type and type but nothing turns out quite right. Even when the seeds of an idea appear fully formed the conclusion alludes me. As a result I’ve amassed a prolific portfolio of unfinished devotionals and drafts too inferior to post and too elaborate to delete.

I’d like to blame my dilemma on a severe case of “writer’s block” but that wouldn’t be true. It all began with a “purpose block.”

Why am I writing? Who am I writing for? What am I writing about? These questions have been plaguing my pen and paralyzing my finger from hitting “publish.” While my body has been healing, my hand has been struggling to form complete thoughts. All I’ve written about for years is sickness and physical suffering and, without it, I don’t know how to write or what to write about. Illness has been my purpose for eight years but my body has started telling a different story.

Blocked by a confused purpose, I decided to do the only thing I could do. Pray. Earnestly seek God. Ask Him to show me His purpose for my life.

And He’s been answering.

With open doors and new opportunities God has been magnificently, miraculously and abundantly answering my prayers. His answering has been so remarkable that it caused a new kind of block. “Glory block:” the inability to write due to the blinding glory of God’s goodness.

But the most miraculous answer to prayer has come to a request I didn’t even think to make. In His infinite wisdom and love, God has given me more than what I asked for. He’s given me peace.

God has showered my hands and heart with peace, removing my anxious striving to post and publish. God has given me rest and reassurance, calming my fears with the comfort of knowing that I am complete in Him. God has reminded me that writing does not give meaning to my life. God gives meaning to my life. Whether or not I ever write another word, I am whole because I am His.

I do not need to answer the questions of “why, who and what.” God is in control of my writer’s life. If He chooses to give me words, I’ll write them. If He blesses me with “glory block” and keeps me from posting then I will peacefully sit back and enjoy the wonder of His presence.

I need not worry about what I will write or what will become of “Jesus take the pen.” God will take care of that. All He requires of me is that I keep seeking, praying and asking Jesus to take my life and fill it with His purpose.

“We know that in all things God works for good with those who love him, those whom he has called according to his purpose.”

Romans 8:28

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Crashing into the Cross

Her foot was on the brake with the pedal engaged but the car wouldn’t stop. It just kept moving forward. Mom tried not to panic as she pumped the brakes but her frantic footing was futile. The brakes were completely shot and within seconds the car was face-to-face with the garage.

Thankfully Mom wasn’t hurt. The car traveled the length of the garage and would have crashed through the back wall had it not been for what the accumulation of stored stuff that stopped the out-of-control vehicle and wouldn’t let it go an inch further. Piled high along the far end of the garage was an assortment of garden equipment, kid’s riding toys, garbage cans and bicycles. The stuff saved Mom’s life by stopping the car from breaking through the back of the garage and careening down the hill behind it.

 

Mom’s brake-less car story is a picture of life without Christ, my own life without Christ.

 

Before I surrendered my life to Christ I was like Mom’s out-of-control car. I was driving through life without brakes. I didn’t do what I wanted to do or stop and obey the rules like I knew I should. I was lost in rebellion, completely out-of-control and headed straight for a crash.

Driving without brakes in a car always ends with impact and so it was with my life. After months of picking up speed I came face-to-face with the garage of my life. I didn’t even think to brace for impact, I was too ignorant and blind to foresee the consequences of my disobedience. Before I knew it I was crashing into the reality my sin, guilt and shame. I ran full-force into the disaster I was making of my life.

But thankfully I wasn’t hurt because my life ran into Christ’s cross. Behind all of my transgressions and wrongdoings Jesus was standing in the way of my ultimate destruction ready and willing to save me. When I crashed into His cross my life couldn’t go any further. Christ brought me to my knees and my out-of-control life to a full stop.

 

Apart from Christ we are all doomed for a deadly disaster, speeding down a hell-bound road without brakes and without hope in this world. But, praise be to God, Jesus is standing in victory, waiting to save and redeem us with His Cross. Only by the power of His resurrection and the grace of His salvation can our out-of-control lives be stopped and saved.

The moment you hit the door of rebellion, look to the cross because Christ is there, ready and willing to rescue you.

Surrendered before His throne, redeemed by His resurrection, your life will be saved upon impact so you can travel the rest of life’s road with the brakes of righteousness and the assurance of eternal salvation.

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—

and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—

not by works, so that no one can boast.”

Ephesians 2:8-9

 

* Mom’s brake-less car story is circa 1995.

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Bloom Where You’re Planted

“Bloom where you’re planted” is one of my favorite sayings and a sentence I strive to live by. To bloom where you’re planted means to thrive and flourish in the life conditions God has placed you. Or, as Paul put it in his letter to the Philippians, to be “content whatever the circumstances.” (4:11)

While working on my blooming skills I’ve discovered that reciting the sentence is a whole lot easier than actually growing the blossoms. Thankfully, God is the faithful and patient Gardener who has not given up on tending to my flowers while teaching me how to grow more bountiful, beautiful blooms. Under the care of God’s cultivation I have learned that the following three principles are key to experiencing blooms right where you’re planted.

1.     Be content in the soil of your circumstances.

Different types of flowers flourish best in different soils. Some species need moist soil while others grow best in dry conditions. And so it is with people. We do not all thrive in the same circumstantial soil. One person is best planted in physical suffering while another person will flourish under the demands of a laborious job. One will thrive single while another will grow fuller and stronger as one of half of a pair. God knows what we need and He plants us in the right soil to produce the very best blooms.

To experience the blessing of a healthy, bountiful garden we must remain content in our soil. Transplanting to what we believe will be more favorable conditions could prove disastrous for our blooms. The best growing conditions will always be in the unique ground of God’s flawless choosing.

2.     Enjoy your ideal exposure.

Like soil, sun and shade conditions are not one-size-fits-all. Cacti thrive in the direct desert sun. In fact, they will die without the light. But Begonias prefer shade. Too much sun will cause them to shrivel up and die.

You and I function much the same. One person will flourish in the heat while another will need the cool of the shade. To wish we had a different exposure to the world and its elements won’t aid in our growth. Seeking the wrong exposure could actually prove fatal.

It is always best to enjoy the exposure God has determined is just right for your ideal growth. If He leaves you in the quiet, enjoy the silence. If He surrounds you with activity, embrace the commotion. God knows the exposure that will serve you best and bring the most glory to His great name.

3.     Be satisfied with your saturation.

Back to the cacti we go for a perfect picture of the dangers of over watering. If cacti have too much water they won’t survive. Cacti were created to stand strong in climates with little rainfall.

Like wise, God purposefully plants people in grounds that are destined to experience drought. You and I may look up to the sky and wonder when God will send down blessings like rainfall but if we are a flower created to flourish in a dry and barren land we need not fear the lack of water. God never withholds what we need. If He does not deem it best to send down blessings in showers He will cultivate His goodness from the root up.

God knows how best to water the soil of the soul. Resist the urge to grab the hose. Be satisfied with your saturation and leave the soaking up to Him.

 

There is one more secret to blooming right where you’re planted and it holds the other three principles together: trust.

“Trust the Lord your God with all of your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5)

When we trust God, the master Gardener, to cultivate our garden and tend to our flowers He never disappoints. When we leave it up to Him, He always makes us bloom beautifully right where He plants us.

You need not have a green thumb to bloom where you’re planted. All you need is to know the Master Gardener and entrust the garden of your life to His care.

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Don’t Cry for Me Argentina

I couldn’t get the tune of “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” out of my head, which I fully admit is strange since I’ve never seen the musical that made the song famous nor have I heard it played recently. But once those famous five became stuck in my mind they began playing on repeat. It is the grieving tone of “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” that has struck a chord in my heart. I can sympathize with the sentiment since I, too, have been doing a lot of crying as of late.

The tears I’ve been shedding have nothing do with Argentina and everything to do with the life I’ve missed in the past eight years. I’ve been crying for my lost twenties and the hopes, dreams and plans that died along the way.

The impending fall has jogged my memory and sent me on a reminiscing journey back to ten years ago this month. August 2008 is when I left for college with visions of how my life would unfold. As a normal eighteen year old, I was excited to take on the world as a thriving young adult but the transition to college was the last step in my life that went according to plan. Soon after my health began to fail, marking the end of my “normal” life.

Ever since my life has been an uncontrollable, unpredictable and often painful ride. Sickness snatched from my hands life milestones and gave me a list of failures, disappointments and setbacks instead. Although I am finally on the road to recovery I have so far left to go and so many years I cannot reclaim. My body can recover but I cannot recover my lost eight years.

The fact is that my twenties are nearly over and that reality has made me cry out in sorrow like Argentina cried in Evita.

After overplaying the one line, “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” in my mind over and over again, I was curious about the rest of the song. What lyrics came next? I didn’t know so I had to look it up. That’s when I discovered the best part of the song wasn’t the five words I had been humming. It’s the lines that came next.

“All my wild days, my mad existence, I’ve kept my promise. Don’t keep your distance.”

Upon reading those words my tears dried up. It was as if God were singing over me, telling me to stop my crying because He has kept all of His promises.

God has kept His promise to never leave me nor forsake me. (Deuteronomy 31:6) In fact, in the past eight years, I have experienced the nearness of God more powerfully and intimately than ever before in my life.

God has kept His promise to give me hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11) And not just any future or a flawed future of my desire. He has kept His promise to fulfill His good and glorious future in my life!

God has kept His promise to give me strength when I am weary and uphold me when I am weak. (Isaiah 49:29-31) God’s strength has been on great display in my sickness, especially when He sustained me at sixty-five frail pounds.

God has kept His promise to uphold me with His righteous right hand. (Isaiah 41:10)

God has kept His promise to cleanse, sanctify and renew me. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

God has kept His promise to fill me His Spirit and indwell me with His Son. (John 14:27)

All through my wild sick days and mad existence, God has kept every single promise He’s ever made and all He asks is that I never keep my distance from Him.

The moment I fix my eyes on the King of Glory my crying ceases. Face to face with Jesus I cannot lament what I’ve lost because all I can see is the fullness of eternal life I’ve gained in Christ. My hope and peace can rest secure because I am rooted in the eternal, unchangeable, unshakable Almighty God of Heaven and Earth who always keeps His promises.

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Enjoy the Ride (and the view)

“NO SINGLE RIDERS.”

The rules were printed in big, bold red letters and displayed so prominently they couldn’t be missed. Solo rides were not allowed on the amusement park Ferris wheel…under any conditions.

A ride on the Ferris wheel was the sole reason I had entered the amusement park in the first place. It was a perfect summer evening to take in the view of the sun setting over the lake and I planned to enjoy it riding in a solo Ferris wheel car. In hand I had the four tickets needed for one person to enter the ride. I was all set for a single’s adventure until I saw the sign.

Despite the crystal clear no non-sense warning, I paused at the ride’s entrance and considered my options. I wondered if maybe, after waiting in line and putting on my sweetest (most pathetic) face, I could persuade the ride operator to make an exception. If that didn’t work out, maybe I could join a small group that had room to spare in their car. If I asked nicely, I might be able to snag the extra seat.

For a few minutes I stood by the ride’s entrance as groups of teens, families with small kids and couples on dates went dashing up the walkway prepared to enjoy a ride on the Ferris wheel. I couldn’t bring myself to encroach on anyone’s evening nor was it proper to ask for a solo rider exception. So, with four unused tickets in hand, I turned and walked away from the Ferris wheel.

Dejected but not defeated, I decided I would use my tickets and find a different ride that welcomes singles. I heard the roller coaster off in the distance and, for a moment, thought that might be a fun adventure. But the roller coaster ride is over so quickly there would be no time to enjoy a view of the sunset.

To my right I could see single passenger swings flying high up in the air and decided that would be the right ride for me. I was about to walk in that direction until I heard yelling above my head. I looked up and was filled with joy when I saw the perfect attraction for a solo rider.

The Sky Ride.

Fifteen minutes and three tickets later, I was up in the air traveling slowly above the amusement park. The Sky ride didn’t ban singles from riding. In fact, the bench seats were filled with solo travelers enjoying a peaceful ride above the park while taking in a breathtaking sunset view.

On my solo amusement park adventure I was reminded that while traveling through life there are rides that aren’t suited for singles. There are particular adventures, events and occasions that only welcome couples and groups. Certain life experiences cannot be enjoyed alone. But that doesn’t mean that singles should leave the park of life dejected with perfectly good, unused tickets in hand. Attached isn’t the only way to ride through life while enjoying a beautiful view.

The park of life is full of rides that welcome single riders. If one ride in particular can’t be enjoyed alone you need not walk away dejected or throw away your opportunity to experience a full life. All you need to do is look up and out to discover that there are countless opportunities to use the ticket God has given you. In the park of life God has filled it with rides and attractions perfectly suited for singles to enjoy. And they boast beautiful views, too.

Whether single or attached, enter the park, buy the ticket, and live life to the fullest by enjoying the ride that’s just right for you.

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Re-Infected

Disbelief.

That’s the only word to describe how I felt when, six months after finally clearing my chronic case of Lyme disease, I found a tick embedded in my left leg.  I carefully extracted the blood-sucking bug but it was too late. His disease spreading deed was already done. Within days sickness and symptoms returned and my health deteriorated before my very eyes.

For the first two weeks post tick bite I attempted to deny the obvious decline and embraced the mantra “fake it till you make it.” I did my best to live a lie of health while, in reality, I was becoming sicker each day.

But by week three the pain was so intense I had to give up the act. The muscle spasms, head aches, itching and back pain had returned with such vengeance that they couldn’t be ignored. I had to get real with my doctor and voice my concerns.

When I heard the word “re-infected” I held back tears with a lump in my throat. It was one thing to know in my own gut that I was sick but having it confirmed was a different story. The doctor’s diagnosis made it a reality.

After eight years of waiting to be on the steady road to recovery and physical restoration the last news I wanted to hear was about re-infection. The last update I wanted to give to my friends and family was “I have Lyme…again.”

As I left the doctor’s office stunned and saddened by the return of Lyme, the words of Jesus came to mind…“You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32)

Jesus made it clear that dealing in truth isn’t just a good idea. Truth isn’t a suggestion. Truth is a demand. Truth is an order for how I am to live my life. To be freed from the sadness and sorrow of sickness I have to be truthful about my condition. I cannot live a lie of health and be well in my soul. I cannot fake physical healing and experience spiritual recovery. I have to be honest about my re-infection to be free and whole in Christ.

 

The truth is that I have been re-infected with Lyme.

The truth is that I have encountered a set back, but not the end of my story.

The truth is I have been delayed, not given a death sentence.

The truth is I am still traveling on the long and winding road to physical recovery.

And, the most important truth is, I am still on the glorious road to spiritual recovery.

 

Speaking the truth of Lyme in my life has set me free to experience the spiritual growth God has planned on this part of my journey. By denying the presence of the disease I was denying God’s purpose for it. When I was busy pretending I wasn’t sick I missed the peace and joy of living in honesty and truth.

Re-infection is not an accident. I know that to be true because God doesn’t make mistakes. He always has a plan and a purpose. Not once has He ever allowed sickness to strike my body without using it to sanctify my ailing soul. Every pain has had a greater purpose. Every symptom has been employed to strengthen my need for Jesus and increase my dependence on the indwelling of His Holy Spirit.

The truth is that I was meant to be re-infected with Lyme because it is part of God’s perfect plan to purify my soul and unify my heart with my His Son, my Savior, Jesus Christ.

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A Look Back 3 Years Post Stem Cells

Three years ago I underwent a stem cell procedure to treat what I believed was a case of Multiple Sclerosis.

The treatment utilized cells extracted from my body’s fat. In my case, my legs were the only part of my body with any extra tissue left to extract from. After the cells were pulled from my body they underwent an activation process. Once turned on, they were pumped back into my body through an IV and injected into my nasal cavity.

Four hours after it began, the procedure was over and I was full of activated powerhouse stem cells.

 

Since that day I have been asked (and have asked myself), “What did that procedure do for you?”

After the stem cells were injected into the immediate results were remarkable. Symptoms that had been unshakable for years completely disappeared. My energy was back. Brain fog lifted. Muscle spasms abated entirely. For the first three days I felt like a new woman and thought, “I’m cured!”

Then I returned home.

And so did my symptoms.

One by one the debilitating ailments came back. Pain. Muscle spasms. Fatigue. Hot flashes. Brain fog. Optic neuropathy. Slowly all of the symptoms crept back into my body….except one.

My claw foot.

Prior to the stem cell treatment my foot had gone into a perpetual claw. My toes were curled over and completely stiff. To release the tension I had to manually straighten them back out again but that was only a temporary fix. In no time at all the claw foot would return.

The condition of my foot made walking difficult and painful. Until my foot went into a claw I didn’t realize how important the toes are for balance and stability. Without all four corners of my foot engaged I fell more easily, tripped with absolutely nothing in my way and had constant discomfort in every pair of shoes.

My claw foot was a catalyst for pursuing stem cell therapy. In fact, before I underwent the procedure, I said, “If I could only have my foot back, this treatment would be worth it!”

Well, I got my foot back.

The morning after the procedure I awoke to a claw-less foot. There was absolutely no gripping in my toes or pain in my foot. The stem cell procedure freed my foot from the grips of the claw and, to this day, it has yet to return.

 

The freedom in my foot following stem cells was immediate but the most amazing freedom I experienced as a result of the procedure didn’t become evident until much later. It took over a year before I began to see the most miraculous outcome of the treatment: freedom from the claw gripping my heart.

Until I had stem cells I was fixated on being healed – and fast. That’s why I pursued stem cells in the first place. I wanted a quick fix to my problems. I didn’t want to have to wait. I wanted it done in four hours – or less. In my mind, the wait had gone on long enough and didn’t want to have to practice any more patience. There was a claw in my heart gripping immediate healing and it was refusing to release.

But stem cells freed me from the claw in my heart.

When the stem cells didn’t provide the cure I’d hoped for, my hope in immediate physical healing died. It was as if I had put all of my healing eggs in the stem cell basket and when I returned home I realized the basket had a whole in it. Complete healing hadn’t made it home and off the plane. I was still stuck sick.

Although I had my foot back I lost temporary sight of that miracle when the rest of my symptoms returned. I had said having a free foot was enough of a reason to get the procedure but the reality was my foot wasn’t enough. No part of my physical body could have ever been enough because the real trouble was still the claw in my heart.

A year post stem cells the true healing came. That’s when I finally accepted that God wasn’t going to use a quick fix to make me well. Stem cells showed me that what I needed wasn’t a procedure. I needed patience. I didn’t need powerhouse cells. I needed powerhouse contentedness in all circumstances.

Stem cells opened my eyes to the foolish fixation I had on the quick fix and revealed that my hopes had become dependent on physical healing instead of on God alone. When the claw finally unclenched freedom took hold. In the presence of God I am free to enjoy peace and rest, regardless of circumstances or physical condition.

 

 

So, what did that procedure do for you? Simple. It freed me from my claw.

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Choose to Smile

“Geez, you’re sure out of breath!”

She was right. I was winded and red faced. My heart was racing, palms were sweaty and I felt like I’d just run a road race.

But this wasn’t a marathon or even a treadmill at the gym. It was the pick-up counter at my local coffee shop.

I paused, unsure of how to respond to the prodding stares coming from the baristas on the other side of the counter. Two women were staring at me, both nodding in agreement, recognizing that I was obviously, and oddly, breathless. The first barista was laughing as the second piped up. “Yea. She’s right! And your face is red, too.” she said with a chuckle.

At that moment I knew I had three options to choice from when it came to how I would respond.

Option A: Cry.

Tears used to be my go-to response whenever I was confronted by unkind, at times rude, commentary regarding my physical condition. If I didn’t cry on the spot I cried later in the bathroom. If I didn’t breakdown right then and there it was because I was holding back the tears with a lump in my throat.

Thankfully, I decided against Option A.

Option B: Educate.

At times this has been my best option when an ill-informed individual has made a statement that, had they known about my sickness, they would not have made. To educate the baristas I could have told them that my out of breath, winded condition was on account of my latest Lyme detox. For the sake of informing, I could have told them that since beginning my latest round of treatments these hot flashes had been striking me multiple times a day.

But it wasn’t the time nor place to enter into a discussion about the details of my disease and so I decided against option B.

Option C: Smile and laugh.

To smile, laugh and respond with grace is always the best option. Even if another word is never spoken, a smile speaks volumes. A smile and a little chuckle signals that life is short and it is silly to take simple comments too seriously. A smile extends grace to those who don’t know the background behind my breathlessness or cause of my condition. A smile says, “You don’t know why I’m out of breath and that’s okay.”

I choice option C.

 

There was a day not so long ago that I would have chosen option A and in some cases I still do choose option B but, in all cases, it is always best to practice option C. Smile. Laugh. Give grace.

Not every person I encounter will know or has to know about my sickness. Every barista that hands me a coffee cup doesn’t need to be enlightened about Lyme and the trials and tribulations of detox. God knows the ups and downs. God knows the cause of my breathlessness and the gory details of my detox and that’s enough.

God knows and loves me just as I am, sickness and all. God sees the fight underway for my life and He is cheering me on. The world doesn’t need to see it or even know that I’m in the fight for my life because the Creator and Sustainer of my body is fully aware of my every battle.

God is fighting for me, with me and through me so I can smile and say, “Ha! You’re right. Maybe I just drank my coffee to fast!”

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Talking to the Birds

In the neighborhood I call home the houses are situated on quarter acre sized lots, only a few hundred feet apart. The homes are so close that, if you look just right, you can see in your neighbor’s window. Not that I’m peeking. It’s just a fact of residential suburban life.

In the summer months when the windows are open and my neighbors are out in full force I often hear their hearty laughter and boisterous conversation. In the comfort of my own home I’ve even listened to their rocking music. When they crank up the volume I can hear every word.

Living in close proximity to neighbors means you quickly become familiar with their habits, routines and preferences. You come to know, for example, what genre of music they enjoy and what time they leave for work. Or, as is the case with my newest next-door neighbor, you come to discover that they have a deep love and appreciation for birds.

To be honest, I haven’t officially met my new next-door neighbor. I’ve seen her car but couldn’t pick out her face in a grocery store line. But, even in spite of her anonymity, I am confident that my new neighbor love birds because she regularly talks and listens to them from her back deck.

Yes, you read that right. My new neighbors talk to birds. From inside my house I’ve heard her lively discussions with the feathered fowl in nearby trees. During their chats, my neighbor makes various bird-calls and practices a plethora of pitches. She even changes the tone and rhythm of her dialogue in response to her feathered friends.

The bird conversation begins with my neighbor making a few bird sounds of her own then pausing to listen as the birds respond. This back-and-forth dialogue goes on for quite some time, easily half an hour or so. Neither bird caller nor bird ever seems to tire of the discussion. From the energy in their voices there is no question that both neighbor and birds thoroughly enjoy their conversations.

When I first heard this chatter between my neighbor and the birds I’ll admit I thought it was a bit odd. Never before had I heard an individual have such a lengthy and enthusiastic conversation with birds. But the more I listened to the exchange the more beautiful it became. The back and forth soon became magical music to my ears.

 

The beautiful conversations taking place between my neighbor and the birds has taught me an important lesson: When you love someone – or some birds – you change your tune to speak their language.

Scripture says that my love for God is made manifest in my life when I speak His language and call out in His pitch of love and grace. When I turn to Him in prayer and seek His presence to not only speak but, more importantly, listen to His voice, Christ indwells my soul. When I surrender my selfish tune and earnestly endeavor to embody God’s calls the very Spirit of Christ transforms the song on my lips.

Every day of my life I am to be practicing God calls and engaging in the most magical, musical conversation man can ever experience: A holy and life changing conversation with God.

 

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.

Colossians 3:1

 

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Free at Last

I was balancing atop a paddle board, floating down an ocean creek, when the sweet relief of freedom washed over me.

After slipping underneath a footbridge I was welcomed into a grassy paradise full of Blue Heron, Osprey and Egrets. Nature was at its finest and for a few minutes I simply sat down, closed my eyes and enjoyed the sounds of the stillness. Guided by the water’s gentle current, I floated peacefully beneath the bright sun, basking in the goodness of God’s creation.

Four years ago this scene wasn’t possible for me to experience. Standing upright on a paddle boarding in southern summer heat was an impossible dream. In my mind I imagined what it would be like to experience nature while floating atop calm waves and gliding down gentle waters but my body simply wouldn’t allow it. The muscles in my left leg and arm were held taut like rubber bands that refused to relax. They tugged and pulled relentlessly, especially in the heat. For years, the excruciating pain and debilitating spasticity controlled my activities and held hostage my dreams of outdoor adventures.

But a miracle has happened. The impossible has been made possible. My dream of freedom has at last become my reality!

My body has been liberated from its spasticity. The rubber bands in my muscles have been released. Healing has loosened the inner rubber bands that bound me. I am no longer held taut by disease. Pulling and tugging in the heat no longer controls me. I have been set free indeed!

As I glided in the open ocean waters, celebrating the healing that has restored my physical freedom, I was awe-struck by an even greater miracle than my body’s liberation.

Spiritual freedom and liberation from sin.  

The most incredible, awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping miracle I have ever and will ever experience is being set free by the blood of Jesus Christ. On the cross of Calvary my Savior severed my bands of sin. The debilitating, deadly pain that had me trapped in an eternal grave was defeated when Jesus rose again. Sin no longer has mastery over me. Shame no longer has control. Because I have been liberated with Christ’s resurrected, victorious life I am eternally free indeed.

Basking in the brilliance of God’s creation I was reminded that the glory of freedom is always at its finest in the presence of the Christ’s Holy Spirit while gliding atop His waves of everlasting grace and perfect peace.