Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to You. When my heart is faint, lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for You have been my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy. Psalm 61:1-2
So the last time I wrote, I was buried under a slew of physical problems that just would not let up. Starting a couple of weeks ago, I was reduced to sleeping about three hours at a shot, then every two hours, then one, then down to waking up every forty five minutes. That alone is not good for sanity, let alone all of the other stuff that was going along with it.
Just over a week ago, I had a dream that seemed to go on a long time, but in real time it probably wasn’t all that long. In my dream a multitude of people gathered around me and just kept praying what seemed to be most of the night. I didn’t recognize them. Before they would break, a gray haired man would lay his hand on my head and speak over me. I didn’t know what he said–it didn’t matter. Then they would circle me again and pray. This same pattern repeated several times.
It wasn’t the next morning, but the morning after that I was getting up from yet another miserable night of non-sleep and pain. This whole nightmare of physical problems had been going on for over a month. My husband had left for the day and I was on my way out of bed, when suddenly–no bells or whistles, no angel songs or harps–my pain just went away. Better put, God just took my pain away. It was gone. That awful pain that hurt when I walked, made my brain hurt and sent shock waves down my neck, shoulder and back–was gone!
That’s that ecstasy. Here comes the agony, I guess…
This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down His life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. 1 John 3:16-18
That night I still only slept for 45 minutes at a shot, so I stayed home from work to just rest and gather myself for a day. I hadn’t been out of the house for two full days and wasn’t planning on leaving for another day. I was in my sweats having my quiet time, reading 1 John out loud (for concentration’s sake) all of the way through. And I was texting a Native American friend from jail back and forth intermittently.
She was telling me how she was going to try to take her car back that was a lemon from a place that ripped her off. She has no credit and he took advantage of her plight. He told her she could exchange it for a different vehicle but she would need more money and she didn’t have it. I was literally reading the above verses out loud when she said she didn’t have more money and didn’t know what to do.
So I asked if I could give her the money. After some back and forth, the question was how she could get it. We arranged a meeting place and time not too far from my house. She called earlier than the arranged time, a bit lost. So I redirected her and said that I would be there in five minutes. I threw on a sweatshirt and a pair of boots and jumped in my vehicle for a ten minute errand–at least that’s what I thought.
On my way across the highway to meet her, suddenly I was hit by a truck that obviously I did not see coming–all I knew was that my airbags exploded, my Equinox spun around and I was plowed into the parking lot. Next thing I know I’m in an ambulance headed to the hospital with a whiplash collar. That was all a precaution, but suffice it to say, it was a grand mess, of which I am still wading my way through.
The upshot is that I got into it because I was seeking to obey God by putting action to my words. All week I had to coach my friend into not being angry at God at what happened because she saw it all take place. Her faith is all so new. I told her that is what Satan would want, but God’s got this. I have to trust that as I sort out the insurance, the financial loss and all of the fallout.
Sometimes we have to get our hands dirty I guess. Isn’t that what Christmas is about? Jesus got His hands so dirty He got nails pounded through them. That’s mushing Christmas and Easter together, so I’m speeding ahead. So that’s what the Gospel is all about, not just Christmas. So it is the ecstasy and the agony.
But I’m ready for a calmer week.