Tag Archives: Healing

Chapter-a-Day

Snake on a Stick

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They traveled from Mount Hor along the route to the Red Sea, to go around Edom. But the people grew impatient on the way; they spoke against God and against Moses, and said, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread! There is no water! And we detest this miserable food!”
Numbers 21:4-5 (NIV)

Wendy and finally returned last night from what was supposed to have been a six-day trip that began with a client event and ended with a visit to see our kids and granddaughter in South Carolina. What it became is eight days of the worst air travel I’ve experienced in over 30 years of regular business travel.

I’ll spare you the details (and there are many, many details) but United Airlines delayed or cancelled almost every flight we were on. They chose not to put our luggage on the plane from Chicago to North Carolina for weight reasons, but then couldn’t get us our luggage for over two days, which meant we didn’t have our materials for the client event. We had to shop for clothes and necessities for over two days. Our return flight was cancelled and it took over two days for them to get us home. At one point, Wendy said to me, “They’ve completely broken me. I have no more emotional energy to even care.”

It is good to finally be home, but you can imagine that we’re still stinging from our travel week from hell. So, when in today’s chapter the Hebrew tribes grow “impatient” and begin to complain, I feel their pain.

One of the things that has become obvious to me in our current chapter-a-day trek through Numbers is that the events recorded are not random coincidence. Everything is connected to each other. We just had the death of Aaron and Miriam, two of the trinity of sibling leaders of the tribes. As happens when a family experiences the loss of a patriarch or matriarch, there was gathering, grieving, and remembering. It brings family together. There is connection, camaraderie, and commitments made.

The very next thing that happens is a tragic and unexpected attack from a Canaanite king. The Hebrews handle this appropriately. They unify, go to God for direction, and follow the Lord’s command. They are victorious.

But how quickly the afterglow of the unity of grief and the victory over the king of Arad lasts. It doesn’t take long for the people to grow impatient, complain, and grow angry. Their complaint to Moses is strong and bitter. They call the manna God has been providing “detestable.” Scholars have noted that this is spiritually equal to rejecting God’s grace. Their impatience and anger lead them past complaining to the point of rejecting both God and Moses. They’re broken.

What happens next is a critically important moment in the entire Great Story. Venomous snakes invade the Hebrew camp and start biting people. Now what are snakes and their venom metaphorical for in the context of the Great Story going back to the Garden? Yep, the evil one and his death dealing lies. God does something strange. He has Moses make bronze snake, put it on a pole and lift it up. Anyone who looks at the snake on the pole is healed from their deadly snake bites. They live.

Fast forward thousands of years to a clandestine meeting in the late watches of the night between Jesus and member of the Hebrew leaders named Nicodemus. Jesus tells Nick, “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.” (John 3:14-15 NIV) Jesus, on the cross, took upon Himself the sin of the world. As Paul put it to the believers in Corinth: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us.” Jesus was the ultimate snake on a pole, “so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Corinthians 5:21 NIV).

What happens through the rest of the chapter? After they look at the snake and are healed, the Hebrew tribes go on winning streak like they’ve never experienced before. Blessing, favor, victory.

So, in the quiet this morning I look back to tremendously trying week. Our client event was great despite the fact that we were wearing clothes hastily purchased on a late-night Walmart run. We felt beaten down by a system we didn’t control. We were just small anonymous cogs stuck in the depths of United’s global operations. Yet, even in the midst of our impatience, anger, and frustration Wendy and I took time to initiate the chain reaction of praise. We stopped our bitching for a moment, in prayer we looked up to Jesus – the snake on the stick – and we offered praise in the midst of our pain.

There were no miracles. But, our prayer and praise helped us endure, it pushed us to have faith and persevere, and yesterday afternoon we finally returned home. Now, our week of travel hell will fade into memory. Forgetting what lies behind, keeping our eyes on Jesus, we press on into the good things God has for us.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

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Chapter-a-Day, Uncategorized

Seeing and Believing

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Seeing and Believing (CaD Jhn 9) – Wayfarer

Jesus said, “For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.”
John 9:39 (NIV)

A few weeks ago there was a congressional hearing regarding prejudice, specifically anti-semitism, on college campuses. The Presidents of three elite universities were asked simple, direct questions. Their responses were evasive, murky, and unclear. Two of the three resigned in subsequent weeks.

These events came to mind today as I read today’s chapter. This is the third chapter in a row in which John gives witness to the rising conflict between the religious leaders in Jerusalem and Jesus. The religious leaders were elite, educated, and wealthy. They occupied the highest rung of their society. Jesus was a sharp contrast. Jesus had no formal or elite education in the established educational system. Jesus was not wealthy, and He depended on the generosity of others to fund His traveling ministry. Jesus lived and operated in the rural, backwater regions of the country.

John carefully chose the healing of a blind man as one of the seven miracles, or “signs” as he chooses to call them, as it fits perfectly with the narrative on multiple levels. In the previous chapter, Jesus refers to Himself as “the Light of the World” multiple times. As if to literally prove His point, today’s chapter begins with Jesus healing a man who had been blind since birth. Out of the darkness of his blindness, the man can see for the first time in his life.

This event led to three hearings before the elite, educated, powerful religious leaders. The first was with the former blind man himself who recounted the event of his healing. There is division among the religious leaders. Some are entrenched in their fundamentalist belief that the fact Jesus performed this miracle on the Sabbath (the religious “day of rest”) negates the “godliness” of the miracle. Others argue that the very act of giving sight to a man born blind can only come from God.

Then, something fascinating happens. These educated elites ask the formerly blind beggar his opinion, but they aren’t happy when the man proclaims Jesus a prophet. Some of the religious leaders are so adamant in their disbelief of Jesus that they choose to believe that the blind man is lying about being blind since birth.

Hearing number two is with the blind man’s parents. John records that they are “afraid” of the religious leaders and the power these elites have to excommunicate them from the synagogue and socially ostracize them. This is another clear indicator of toxic fundamentalism. The elite few at the top of the food chain use power and fear to control the masses. In this instance, the parents testify that their son was born blind, but when it comes to his healing and his testimony about Jesus, the parents know the narrative their overseers want to hear. They deftly plead the fifth and deflect to their adult son.

The blind man is called back before the leaders for the second time. It’s classic. The dumb, poor beggar responds to the repeated questions with wisdom and reason. He makes the leaders look foolish in the mental gymnastics they are exercising to justify their unbelief. The result is what one might expect from humiliated fundamentalist elites. They insulted him, threatened him, and threw him out.

John then records that Jesus introduces himself to the formerly blind man. The man proclaims his personal belief that Jesus was the Son of Man, and he worships Jesus. Jesus then proclaims that He came “so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.”

A couple of thoughts in the quiet this morning. First, I love the progression of the formerly blind man’s faith. He begins not knowing who Jesus was or who healed him. He then calls Jesus a man, then progresses to calling Jesus a prophet. Finally, he meets Jesus personally and places his faith in Jesus as the Messiah and worships Him. Healing the man’s physical blindness led to the healing of his spiritual blindness. Jesus not only opened the man’s physical eyes, but his spiritual eyes as well. Which leads me to my second thought.

Along my spiritual journey, I have encountered religious, label-wearing Christians who I observed to be spiritually blind. I have also encountered individuals who claim no faith label but I observe that they clearly see the heart and Spirit of Jesus’ teaching. This is a constant reminder to me that every person is having their own conversations with Life and that God’s Spirit is perpetually at work to open the eyes of our spirits to see the Light of the World. Today’s chapter is a reminder that staunch, educated religious people can be spiritually blind while humble, uneducated and irreligious individuals can have spiritual sight that is 20/20.

A friend once asked me about my increasingly poor hearing. I told him that if my impaired physical hearing contributes to being able to hear spiritual things with greater clarity, I will always choose the latter.

I’m back on Facebook for those who liked to read my chapter-a-day posts there! Facebook refuses to give me access to my old, hacked account, but I have started a new account. Please search for me on Facebook and friend me. If Facebook won’t let you friend me, please go to my Facebook profile and “Message” me, which should then allow me to friend you. Cheers! -Tom

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

“Trust the Story”

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"Trust the Story" (CaD 2 Ki 20) – Wayfarer

“Go back and tell Hezekiah, the ruler of my people, ‘This is what the Lord, the God of your father David, says: I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you.”
2 Kings 20:5 (NIV)

In the past few months, I have been enjoying listening to The Bema Podcast. Wendy turned me on to it, and it’s been enlightening in so many ways. So, I wanted to give them a shout-out.

In the first episode(s), the hosts unpack the beauty and power of the Hebrew poetry in the opening chapters of Genesis. They reveal God’s theme in creation: “Trust the Story.”

That thought alone has been rocking my world since I heard it.

Along my spiritual journey, I’ve observed and grappled with my own human tendency toward envy. Most of the time, especially in our materialistic culture, I witness envy being attached to the coveting of another person’s things. But the truth of the matter is that I have found that envy permeates the human condition in much deeper and broader ways. For example, it’s very easy to envy another person’s story.

In today’s chapter, Hezekiah receives the bad news through the prophet Isaiah that his illness will lead to his death. King Hezekiah weeps and prays. The prophet Isaiah then returns to inform the King that God has heard his prayer and seen his tears. God heals Hezekiah and grants him another fifteen years of life.

Throughout my spiritual journey I’ve witnessed “name it and claim it” preachers who preach that anyone and everyone can experience healing like Hezekiah’s with a little faith (and a donation to the preacher’s ministry…wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

But, I can’t help but be reminded of John the Baptist. Jesus said of his cousin that among humans born of women there was no one greater than John. As He said this, John was languishing in Herod’s prison. John was not in a good place. He wanted to see Jesus ascend as Messiah. He wanted his freedom and Herod’s comeuppance. He wanted miraculous deliverance like Hezekiah from Assyria or Daniel and the boys from the King of Babylon’s fiery furnace. He wanted his story to turn out like their story. There’s the envy. But, it wasn’t happening.

So, John sends his disciples to Jesus asking, “Are you really the One?”

Jesus’ reply is fascinating:

“Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.”

Jesus is referencing a text from the prophet Isaiah, the very prophet who proclaimed to King Hezekiah in today’s chapter that God had seen his tears, heard his cries, and would heal him. Jesus is quoting the same text he used in a sermon in Galilee (Luke 4):

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Interestingly, when Jesus references the Isaiah passage to John’s disciples, He leaves out the parts about freedom for prisoners and setting the oppressed free. John’s story is not going to look like Hezekiah’s story. There will be no earthly miracle. John will not see deliverance from Herod the way Hezekiah was delivered from Assyria. John’s head will be served up on a silver platter to his nemesis.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself continuing to meditate on what it means to “trust the story.” Hezekiah’s story reminds me that God sees my tears and hears my prayers and that sometimes the divine response is miraculous and gracious. John the Baptist’s story reminds me that my story isn’t guaranteed a miraculous outcome, but that doesn’t mean that my tears weren’t seen or my prayer wasn’t heard.

“Trusting the story” requires faith that the story isn’t confined to or limited by this earthly existence. It calls upon me to trust that my story is part of a larger Story that is not of this world.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Grace for the Lame

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Grace for the Lame (CaD 2 Sam 9) – Wayfarer

The king asked, “Is there no one still alive from the house of Saul to whom I can show God’s kindness?”

Ziba answered the king, “There is still a son of Jonathan; he is lame in both feet.”
2 Samuel 9:3 (NIV)

In the small community where we live is a local non-profit organization that serves adults who are physically and mentally challenged. Many of these adults live on their own or in local group homes. They have a tremendous amount of autonomy, work locally, and learn to live as independently as possible. If you spend any amount of time in our town you will eventually meet and interact with a number of them. I have always found it a unique aspect of our community that we collectively embrace and assist them. Just a few weeks ago one of our special neighbors approached Wendy uptown and asked for a ride. Of course, she drove him to the store even though it was out of her way and didn’t fit her schedule.

Back in 2008-2009, our daughter Taylor was serving a mission in Morocco. She and a teammate connected with a local center that served handicapped children and they spent time serving at the center and loving the children. Through her eyes and stories, we learned how different the experience can be for those with disabilities in other cultures. Families are often ashamed of their disabled children and the culture makes an effort to hide them away from public view. Little assistance is provided for the centers that serve the disabled or those who are caretakers. I’m sure Taylor and her team were an amazing blessing to the children and the administrators of the center where they volunteered.

I thought about these contrasting experiences when reading about David’s kindness to Jonathan’s lame son, Mephibosheth. I am quite certain that a lame man in David’s day was far more likely to experience the shaming derision of the community as Taylor experienced in Morocco than the community embrace that our town attempts to give to the adults from the local center. Mephibosheth’s personal shame and self-condemnation are apparent from the moment he opens his mouth: “What is your servant, that you should notice a dead dog like me?”

David’s grace to the lame son of his late friend reminded me this morning of the grace that Jesus has afforded me. I am spiritually lame in so many ways. I am undeserving of the King’s favor, and yet I am invited daily to His table to enjoy provision, relationship, healing, encouragement, strength, and most of all forgiveness.

Today, I am thinking about the grace David showed Mephibosheth, the grace Jesus has shown me, and how I can pay it forward in a tangible way with those in my spheres of influence.

 A Note to Readers
I’m taking a blogging sabbatical and will be re-publishing my chapter-a-day thoughts on David’s continued story in 2 Samuel while I’m take a little time off in order to focus on a few other priorities. Thanks for reading.
Today’s post was originally published in May 2014.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Spiritual Sight and Hearing

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Spiritual Sight and Hearing (CaD 1 Sam 3) – Wayfarer

The boy Samuel ministered before the Lord under Eli. In those days the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions.

One night Eli, whose eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see, was lying down in his usual place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the house of the Lord, where the ark of God was. 1 Samuel 3:1-3 (NIV)

One day Jesus and his closest followers were along the lake shore. Jesus had just addressed a crowd of people who had come to hear Him speak. His message consisted of a string of parables. Afterward, His followers asked why He told parables. This was His reply:

“Because the knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them. Whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them. This is why I speak to them in parables:

“Though seeing, they do not see;
    though hearing, they do not hear or understand.

In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah:

“‘You will be ever hearing but never understanding;
    you will be ever seeing but never perceiving.
For this people’s heart has become calloused;
    they hardly hear with their ears,
    and they have closed their eyes.
Otherwise they might see with their eyes,
    hear with their ears,
    understand with their hearts
and turn, and I would heal them.’

Jesus was clear about the fact that there are different kinds of seeing and hearing. The physical sense of sight is obvious, but Jesus spoke of spiritual sight and hearing, as well. Today’s chapter provides an illustration.

The author of Samuel begins today’s chapter with three subtle statements about vision:

“In those days the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions.“

Here he refers to spiritual visions, prophetic words, and dreams. From a historical timeline, we are at end of the time of the Judges. We just went through the book of Judges on this chapter-a-day journey last month. There were some great stories and lessons, but there was little evidence in the text of prophets, dreams, or spiritual visions. Spiritual vision waned after Moses and Joshua’s conquest.

Eli, whose eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see. (Physical)

Next, the author immediately mentions the high priest, Eli’s, waning physical vision. Having just told of God’s judgment on Eli and his sons in yesterday’s chapter, this might also be a not-so-subtle foreshadowing that the light is going out on his time as high priest. It also serves as a contrast to the boy, Samuel, whose spiritual eyes are about to be opened.

The lamp of God had not yet gone out. (Metaphorical)

The final in the author’s trinity of word images is the lampstand that stood in the Holy Place of the Tabernacle. As the night wore on and morning approached the flame would dim, though it was unlawful to let it go out before dawn according to the Law of Moses. The author metaphorically tells me, as the reader, that while spiritual sight may have dimmed, it had not gone out. Samuel is about to have his spiritual eyes opened.

The trinity of images is followed by a trinity of instances in which Samuel’s spiritual ears are opened. He hears God calling his name, but he thinks it’s Eli. Once Eli tells Samuel that it’s God and how to respond to God’s call, God tells Sam that the prophesied doom on Eli and his house is about to come true.

For Eli and his sons, the Light is going out.

For Samuel, his spiritual ears and eyes have been opened. The Light has just dawned.

The author also makes an important observation between the second and third instances of God’s calling to Samuel:

Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord: The word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him.

Along my spiritual journey, I have learned that spiritual hearing and spiritual sight require both God and me. There is a “revealing” that comes from God. Samuel had been raised in the Tabernacle. He was there day and night serving God and Eli, yet he “did not yet know the Lord” and God had not yet opened Samuel’s spiritual eyes and ears. In the same way, it is possible to go to church every Sunday, hear the message, and participate in the service without ever knowing the Lord or having spiritual eyes that see or spiritual ears that hear.

But Jesus said there’s also a part I play in this revealing. Jesus told His followers to ask, to seek, and to knock. My spiritual pursuit of God plays a part in the opening of my spiritual senses. When I ask I will receive. When I seek I will find. When I knock doors open to reveal things I hadn’t seen or heard before.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded of a friend who sat across my desk and asked me about the tinnitus and genetic hearing loss with which I’ve struggled for many years. I have asked for healing in prayer. I have sought the healing prayers of others, and I have had strangers approach me saying that they were led to pray for my ears to be healed. To this point, my prayers have not resulted in the restoration of my physical hearing.

My friend asked me how I felt about that.

I responded by explaining that I’m not certain that there isn’t a relationship between the physical and spiritual. As my physical hearing wanes, I feel that my spiritual hearing has become more acute. If I were to choose between the two, I’ll choose acute spiritual hearing every single time. I’ll continue to seek both and echo Eli’s response in today’s chapter: “He is the Lord; let him do what is good in his eyes.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

The Words of a Parent

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The Words of a Parent (CaD Gen 49) – Wayfarer

Then Jacob called for his sons and said: “Gather around so I can tell you what will happen to you in days to come.
Genesis 49:1 (NIV)

Words have power.

Words of a parent, fathers especially, have unusual power.

Along my earthly journey, I have observed individuals whose lives have been either blessed or plagued by the words of a parent. These words get imprinted in a person’s psyche and soul for good or for ill:

“I love you.”
“I can’t stand you.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Well done. You’re so smart.”
“Why did you do that? You’re so stupid.”
“I’m ashamed to have you as a child.”
“You’re going to go far in life.”
“You’ll never amount to anything.”

I find today’s chapter is one of the most intriguing in all of the Great Story. Jacob/Israel calls all of his sons together as he’s about to die. He then offers a poem about each of his sons to “tell you what will happen to you.” These are his final words. This is the lasting message he leaves with each one. Words have power, and final words pack an extra punch.

I found it important that Jacob does not say, “these are the words of the Lord” or “Thus says the Lord.” Those words accompany divine prophecy. Jacob’s words are not from God, but from his own observations, relationships, and experiences with his children. His words are human, not divine, and any person imprinted with negative parental words must always remember this truth. Embracing the truth of it is the first step towards healing.

A few observations from Jacob’s final words to his sons:

Sometimes mistakes follow you forever. This was true of Reuben, who slept with Jacob’s wife. It was true of Simeon and Levi, who attacked Shechem without permission. These events were never forgiven, and Jacob seals the deal by cursing them for it once again with his dying breath. Jesus, in stark contrast, came to forgive and to teach us to forgive, which has the power to heal the soul of both victim and perpetrator.

Sometimes perception and the seemingly prophetic statements of parents are simply wrong. Jacob tells his Zebulun that his tribe will live by the seashore and be a seafaring people and that his border will extend to the town of Sidon. When the Promised Land was distributed to the tribes, Zebulun was landlocked and 40 miles from Sidon. Sometimes parents say things that are simply wrong, and the only power they have is our willingness to believe them.

Sometimes words can be prophetic despite the source. It seems contradictory, but throughout the Great Story God uses strange sources to speak and foreshadow truth. Shakespeare picked up on this and used it as a device. The fools in his plays regularly speak important truths. Jacob not only makes Judah the leader of the clan, but he also foreshadows the fact that the Messiah will spring from his tribe.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself, once again, grateful to my parents. The simple words “I love you” were imprinted on my soul ceaselessly. The words “I’m proud of you” were spoken regularly at appropriate moments. I have known others who are haunted to have never heard those words from a parent. I am so blessed by my parents.

I’m also reminded this morning of yesterday’s post, which I would encourage anyone struggling with father, mother, or family wounds to read. We don’t get to choose our earthly families, but Jesus came to make the way for anyone to be adopted into an eternal family and divine inheritance. Human curses may always leave a scar on this earthly sojourn, but Jesus offers both healing and a loving new family.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

“I’m Over It!” (Or Not)

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"I'm Over It!" (Or, Not) [CaD Gen 41] – Wayfarer

Joseph named his firstborn Manasseh and said, “It is because God has made me forget all my trouble and all my father’s household.”
Genesis 41:51 (NIV)

I was directing a play many years ago. As the director, I asked my actors to do a study of their characters. I gave them specific questions to answer about their character’s life and background. Through my studies and acting experiences, I found this to be an invaluable tool in taking performance to a higher level. Few actors, especially in community theatre, actually followed through in doing these assignments and it’s not like I could make them do it. I watched those who did measurably improve their skills and create some memorable performances.

One of those who did was a lead actor who attacked the character work and wrote some great stuff in a journal. During the rehearsal process, I allowed me to read what had been written about the character. It was thoughtful, detailed, and really, really good. I noticed, however, that there was one thing that was glaringly missing in the character study: There was not a single mention of a father in the character’s life. When I mentioned this, it opened a doorway to a much deeper life conversation. Actors tend to bring all that we are, including our blind spots, to our characters. There was a reason a father was not mentioned in the character study. It was a touchy subject for my actor in real life.

Today’s chapter is a major turning point in Joseph’s story. His life, like Limony Snicket, has been a series of unfortunate events. What Joseph doesn’t know is that each circumstance has been leading him to the fulfillment of the dream he had as a child; The dream that started the chain of unfortunate events. Pharaoh has a dream that plagues him. His cupbearer remembers Joseph interpreting his dream and tells Pharaoh. Pharaoh has Joseph brought to him from prison. God, through Joseph, interprets the dream. Joseph is raised to the position of VP (Vice-Pharaoh) of Egypt.

What struck me in today’s chapter was the fact that Joseph had a son and names him “Mannaseh.” The name sounds like a derivative of the Hebrew word for “forgets,” and Joseph says, “It is because God has made me forget all my trouble and all my father’s household.”

Along my life journey, I’ve observed that there are some things we never forget and we never really “get over them.” This is especially true of the soul wounds that come from fathers and family. When I read of Joseph saying that he has forgotten the soul wounds of being beaten, almost murdered, and sold into slavery by his own brothers, my own soul cynically cried, “Foul!” When I’ve asked friends with serious father wounds how they’ve dealt with it and they’ve told me, “It doesn’t bother me anymore. I’m over it” it’s never true. In my experience, one never “gets over” a soul wound (especially father wounds). Rather, I have to “get through” it and do the hard work of understanding just how intimately the wound is a part of me. Ignoring it allows it to be a blind spot forever plaguing my journey. Walking through it is the opportunity for it to teach me wisdom.

Despite the joy and redemption that Joseph is feeling with his deliverance, his exalted position, and the birth of a son, Joseph has definitely not forgotten his troubles and his father’s household. God has him on a collision course to face those soul wounds head-on.

And, that’s another thing I’ve observed and experienced along my spiritual journey. Until I consciously walk “through” my soul wounds, address them, process them, and learn from them, they continue to bleed into my life again, and again, and again. I can say “I’m over it” as much as I want, but the honest subtext of that statement is “I’m ignoring it.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Stupid Question (Or Not)

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Stupid Question (or Not) (CaD John 5) – Wayfarer

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?”
John 5:6 (NIV)

Thirty-seven years he’s been an invalid. His family carried him to the pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem and dropped him off to chill with all the other handicapped people.

Archaeologists have identified the place. I’ve been there. Historians tell us that the handicapped would often congregate around pools and springs in ancient times. Gentile shrines of that day, dedicated to Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine, often contained pools. The pool of Bethesda was said to have had healing properties. It was believed that when the water in the pool appeared to have been “stirred by an angel” the first person into the water would be healed. Archaeologists say the pool was roughly the size of a football field. Imagine how many handicapped and lame people would be along side waiting for an angel to stir the water. Besides, it was the Passover, and hundreds of thousands of spiritual pilgrims were in the city that week.

There he sat on his mat in the crowd, as he had been doing every day for…how many years? I have to believe he knew the regulars. They were his homies, his posse, the other “broken” people who were a drain on their families and society in general. The lame, paralyzed, blind, deaf, and dumb masses had all been told that something was wrong with them. Not just physically, but spiritually.

“You must have sinned.”
“Your parents must have sinned.”
“Bad seed.”
“Cursed by God.”

So they would gather and wait for Gabriel to stir the drink. Had anyone really ever been healed by dropping in the drink when they spied a ripple? What if they couldn’t swim? Archaeologists say the pool was 20 feet deep. Are you really going to throw yourself in to drown? I don’t think there was a lifeguard.

Into this scene walks Jesus. He’s still relatively unknown in Jerusalem, especially among the masses of Passover pilgrims. He walks up to the man and asks…

“Do you want to get well?”

On the surface, it appears a stupid question to ask a handicapped person.

The further I’ve progressed in my Life journey the more I’ve come to appreciate the endless depth of that question.

“Do you want to get well?” Because being handicapped has become your identity. These are your people. This pool is your home. Do you really want to leave the only life you’ve known for almost 40 years?

“Do you want to get well?” Because being handicapped has made you special all these years. No pressure to provide. Everyone is required to care for you. Do you really want to go back to being just another regular schmo like the minions who pass by the pool and pretend not to see you every day?

“Do you want to get well?” Because the moment you step back in your family’s house they will say, “You’ve got to get a job tomorrow morning and start contributing instead of taking from the family all these years.” Seriously, do you want to labor every day in the quarry with your brothers, or would you rather just hang here with your homies?

“Do you want to get well?” Because there’s all sorts of passive aggressive power in playing the victim card.

“Do you want to get well?” Because being an oppressed minority can be an addictively powerful drug that justifies all sorts of nasty thoughts, feelings, words, and behaviors.

“Do you want to get well?” Because it’s really more comfortable to remain as you are rather than face the challenge of becoming the healthy, true self God is asking you to be.

Perhaps it’s not such a stupid question after all. Perhaps this is the question I should ask myself in all the stubbornly broken places of my own life.

Jesus heals the man. Reaching down to give the man a hand, Jesus says, “Pick up your mat and walk.” Jesus lifts the man to stand on suddenly sturdy legs, then slips anonymously into the bustling crowd of passover pilgrims.

The man is immediately condemned by the religious leaders for breaking code 356, paragraph 6, sub-section 2, line 8 of the religious law book: Carrying your mat on the sabbath “day of rest.”

I mulled that over in the quiet this morning. The religious rule-keepers are suffering from a very different sickness and paralysis of Spirit. It is, nevertheless, very real. Completely ignoring the miraculous power that has been displayed and the life-changing event that the man has experienced, they squint their beady little self-righteous eyes to pick at a minor infraction of their fundamentalist rule-book.

I’ve observed along my own journey individuals and groups with this same spiritual illness.

“Do you want to get well?”

In the quiet this morning, I’m considering the possibility that I know more people who would answer the question with either “No,” or “But, I’m not sick” than the number of those I know who would sincerely answer, “Yes, I do.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Old Wounds Die Hard

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Old Wounds Die Hard (CaD Ps 137) – Wayfarer

Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
    happy is the one who repays you
    according to what you have done to us.
Psalm 137:8 (NIV)

It’s interesting the places my mind can wander when my body is embroiled in a mindless task. This past weekend as I spent hours power-washing, I found my mind wandering back to a slight that I experienced fifteen years ago which became the death knell of a relationship that effectively ended ten years before that.

Old wounds die hard.

Along my life journey I’ve come to believe that some relationships are for a lifetime. Others relationships are just for a season, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It is what it is. Then there are relationships that need to end for the health of both parties. When Paul wrote to the followers of Jesus in Rome, “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone” I don’t believe that he meant that all relationships should be hunky-dory for the long-haul. Paul had a falling out with more than one individual along his own journeys. I’ve come to believe that sometimes to “live at peace” means to allow for relational time and distance

Old wounds die hard.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 137, is fascinating for its emotional honesty. The Babylonian empire laid siege to Jerusalem, razed it to the ground, and took the citizens into captivity in Babylon for a generation. They experienced their fair share of persecution. This was not only from the Babylonians, but also from Babylon’s allies which included a people known as the Edomites. The Edomites were descendants of Esau, the brother of Jacob, the twin sons of Isaac and grandsons of Abraham. Esau was the first-born twin. Jacob stole Esau’s birthright and became a patriarch of the Hebrew tribes. Esau became the patriarch of the Edomites. Bad blood between them. Fifteen-hundred years later the descendants of the twins are still feuding.

Old wounds die hard.

The songwriter of Psalm 137 channels the pain of captivity, the humiliating treatment by his captors, the homesickness of exile, and the wounds of the feuding enemies, the Edomites. The song has three stanzas. The first stanza expresses the torment of exile, the second stanza expresses love and commitment to Jerusalem, and the final stanza is a raw expression of the vengeance the songwriter feels and the desire for Babylon and Edom to get their just desserts.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself appreciating Psalm 137 for being an example of healthy expression of unhealthy emotions. Along my journey I have had multiple waypoints in which I have felt betrayed and wounded. Those experiences lead to anger which can easily lead me to bitterness which can poison my soul. Wendy and I often remind one-another that anger is like me drinking poison thinking that it will hurt the object of my rage. Yet, I have to do something with my anger. I’ve got to be honest with it, process it, and find healthy ways to get it out.

Which is why the mental scab that I picked at while power washing was simply a fleeting visit down Memory Lane. I processed it and got it out a long time ago. Life has moved on for both me and the one who slighted me. I honestly hope that he is well and has continued to grow in his own journey. There’s not much left of that wound. It’s healed over. There are just the dried remains of scab that I brushed away with my power-washer.

Old wounds die hard, but I have found that they do eventually die when I, like the lyricist of Psalm 137, am honest with my anger. Getting it out, processing it, and expressing it allow for doing what Jesus asks of me: to forgive others just as I have been forgiven.

Chapter-a-Day, Wayfarer Podcast

Music and the Blues

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Music and the Blues (CaD Ex 15) – Wayfarer

Then Moses and the Israelites sang this song to the Lord….
Exodus 15:1 (NRSVCE)

I have a confession to make. I have always wished I had a gift in music. Sure, I did the requisite year or two of lessons as a kid, but nothing every really clicked for me. I sang in the church youth choir and continued to sing in church and school groups for years. I taught myself a bunch of chords on the guitar so I could sing a few Bob Dylan songs on my back porch on a summer evening, and serenade our daughters to sleep singing Forever Young. But, that’s not the gift of music.

I remember an episode of M*A*S*H I watched as a kid. One of the doctors, Major Winchester, was a patrician blue blood with a knowledge of all the fine things of life. He finds himself having to amputate the hand of a patient, only to recognize the young man as one of the world’s up-and-coming virtuoso pianists. The Major goes to great lengths to ensure that the man does not let the loss of his hand prevent him from playing. His response was that young man had a gift and he couldn’t let that go to waste. “I could always play the notes,” Winchester said, “but I could never make the music.”

Bingo! One of the best delineations between competence and giftedness I’ve ever heard.

So, I’ve never been a gifted musicians, and that’s okay. My gifts are in other areas. But it doesn’t stop me from appreciating music. I believe that God infused music with powerful properties. One of them is the way music ties us emotionally and spiritually to moments of our life journeys.

When I started to read the lyrics to the Hebrews’ victory song in today’s chapter I was immediately transported back to my high school youth group on a summer morning clapping and singing these same lyrics to an acoustic guitar.

As soon as I hear the Hollies’ classing Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress I am ten years old and in cabin 3 at Camp Idelwood on Rainy Lake, Minnesota. It’s a cold, rainy day and I’m stuck in the cabin with Mark Malone, Piper, Matt, and my sister Jody.

When I hear The Old Rugged Cross you might notice me smile softly and catch a tear welling-up in my eye. That was my grandma Golly’s song, and the music connects me forever to her.

You get it. I know you do. We all do. That’s the power of music.

Three Times a Lady: My first kiss.
Bridge of Troubled Waters: Road trip to Le Mars and 8-track tapes.
The Joshua Tree: Judson College
Psycho-Killer: Backstage. Pre-show. Kirk.

In today’s chapter, the Hebrews celebrate what God has done with a song. They lyrics are recorded and handed down generation-to-generation. What the tune originally sounded like is lost in the depths of time, but thousands of years later me and my friends at church were singing the same lyrics as we clapped and sang and worshipped God on a summer morning.

How cool is that?

I don’t know about you, but life has felt so heavy the past week or two. The weight of months of quarantine and social distancing, life out-of-whack, George Floyd, riots, violence. Ugh.

As I returned from my road trip on Wednesday I happened upon Bob Dylan and gospel great Mavis Staples singing Dylan’s song called Change My Way of Thinkin’. In one of the strangest things I’ve ever heard in modern music, they stop the music to act out a scripted vignette in which Dylan tells Mavis that he’s got the blues.

Dylan: I been up all night with insomnia reading Snoozeweek.

Staples: Snoozeweek? That ain’t no way to get rid of the blues. You’ve got to sing!

With that, they launch back into the raucous gospel-blues tune.

Here’s the song on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/0ssPo81sHtsS1VfFn4DtjH?si=ftZZt5b0SMKc7BYQjgSBUw

Thanks, Mavis. What a good reminder. And this morning in the quiet it reminds me that in connecting us emotionally and spiritually to people, places, and events, music also has healing properties.

Mavis Staples is right. Staying awake all night watching the news is no cure for the blues. We need music. We need to surround ourselves in the beat, the melody, the lyrics that will lift our spirit and help us extricate the weight of the moment by expressing it.

Gonna Change My Way of Thinkin’ did that for me.

Think about it. Try it. Let me know what song or songs help you. I’m curious to know.

Rock on, my friend.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.