Today I went to a Christmas brunch at my grandma's church. A woman named Nicole Johnson spoke, and I really wish I'd taken notes or something because what she said was really powerful and anything I say won't do it justice.
First she talked about how so often she feels like she's invisible - her kids and her husband ignore her and don't appreciate all the work she's doing for her family. Then her friend gave her a book on cathedrals, and as she read it she discovered that most of the great cathedrals of England have no builder's name attached to them. Men invested their entire lives in these beautiful structures that took more than 100 years to complete, knowing that they wouldn't be remembered for their work, because they did it unto the Lord, and not unto men. Nicole went on to talk about how spending your life building a monument for yourself is a waste of time. People will never appreciate us as much as we wish they would, unless we tell them and then they express their 'gratitude' out of obligation. What's worth it is building a monument to a God who deserves to be worshipped with our lives. We may not see the monument completed in our lifetimes, but we will have invested our time and effort in something that is so much greater than ourselves.
Then she talked about the story of Jesus healing a man's shriveled hand on the Sabbath. It was mostly speculation, but there was a lot of truth in what she said. She talked about how the Pharisees may have baited Jesus with the man, egging him on and hoping they could trap Him, and how He saw their hearts and asked them a pointed question: is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath, or ignore the man and essentially do evil by refusing him help when Jesus could heal him?
Then Jesus told the man to stretch out his hand - not the good one, because he knew how to use that one and what to do with it - but the withered one, the one the man was probably trying to hide and maybe had been ridiculed for. The cause of the defect was unknown - a wound? An injury? Had it been that way from birth? It didn't matter, Jesus could heal it. But first the man had to stretch out his hand - to offer up his imperfection, to display his shame to everyone - and demonstrate his faith in Jesus' power to heal him. "This stretching," Nicole said, "separates fear from faith...hurt from hope...shame from trust."
The man stretched out his hand and was healed, and the wounded went away whole and unashamed. The Pharisees, on the other hand, full of their whitewashed selves and convinced of their righteousness, were left with their shriveled hearts and their wounded pride. Why were their hearts withered and cold? Had they been wounded? Injured? Jesus could have healed them, but their pride stood in the way.
Nicole went on to apply this story to our lives. She told us about her tendency to try and control her life and everything and everyone in it. She talked about how in order to grow, we need to stretch and offer up not what's whole in our lives, but what's shriveled and useless. Often we want to hold so tightly to those areas, afraid that if we let go, everyhing will fall apart. "And you're probably right," Nicole said. "But it may be the best thing that's ever happened to you."
It reminded me of that week in youth group when Mark Driscoll talked about the different views of Jesus, particularly the one that says that Jesus isn't king enough to rule over every area of our lives. Until we learn to let go of everything and trust that His hands are more than big enough to hold it all for us, we'll be fighting Him for control every step of our journey.
As temporary residents of a physical world, it's tempting to place our hope in things or people - which are all 'appearances' that will fade away. Reality - the truth of the Gospel and the promise of heaven - are where we should place our hope. Nicole summed it up better than I could: "I tell God, 'please take my hope and put it way up high, so I can't reach it, because I know if I hold onto it I'll put it in the wrong places.'"
No comments:
Post a Comment