and learn of You, Jesus.For You are meek and lowly in heart
And he, he shall find rest for his soul.
Your yoke O Lord is easy.
Your burden is light.
(adapted from Matthew 11:28-30)
At the Amen he gazes long at us, very long and sighs, shakes his head and murmurs:
How did you know? How did you know?
It is Jesus, sir. It is Jesus. He knows.
Your love fills us and he shares his story: of illness, of the loss of his ability to do his work, of taking care of himself, of having to depend on others, of the need to be where he could be taken care of so his daughter would not be so overwhelmed. At the mention of his daughter he whispers:
She will come to see me, won’t she? It is not too far to come is it?
We remind him of Your love, of Your sovereignty, of Your grace, of Your answering prayer with mercy and grace in time of need, his need. We remind him how much You love him. He sighs and rests in You. For Jesus, You know. You know.
She Trembles at Your Word
Knock, knock.
I call out as I head down the hallway of this clean, neat house. It is such a contrast to the place where she lived before. The porch on this home is solid concrete; the other was made of shifting boards. This home is dusted and ordered and filled with light; the other, cluttered, chaotic and dark.
She sits on her bed in a blue nylon gown, hair neatly combed and pulled back. I am welcomed into her space. I catch a glimpse of her face right before our eyes meet, before she realizes I can see her, yet am not in her view. The few seconds before someone meets your gaze are precious seconds: people’s faces, their expressions are often vulnerably exposed before their “here I am presentable “ face settles in. It is during these seconds that the safeguard over deep feeling or conviction is sometimes relaxed; a tiny bit of the person is shared, a precious gift to ponder, to honor.
She is tentative, not sure, almost as if each time she greets someone she is undergoing scrutiny, is being reviewed, is being judged. She seems to expect she will come up wanting; it makes my greeting warm, more welcoming. My delight deepens, as I sense her tension beginning to relax. She is a large woman, a result of having been hurt in spirit, heart and soul to such a point that there was safety and solace in food. Not only has food been comforting but the increased weight protects the sensitive soul within. The beauty of the person is hidden, not exposed, not vulnerable to the onslaught of evil and reproach others often deal out to assuage their own macerated and wounded selves. The protective weight often causes avoidance of one who is thus burdened. The deeper pain of rejection of the inner being, of the sensitive and vulnerable self is temporarily escaped. The expectation of rejection may soften the blow, but the heart still bleeds: drip by drip, tear by tear. Many of these women are sweet, sweet souls, tenderhearted, gentle, willing to meet anyone where they are, willing to go the extra mile, willing to be patient with the other even though they themselves have not been given such a gift. She is such a woman, yet even more.
Her humble and contrite heart grips me. I am reminded of Your words in Isaiah:
“Has not My hand made all these things and so they came into being?” declares the Lord. “This is the one I esteem: one who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at My word.” (adapted from Isaiah 66:2, KJV)
She has come into a home filled with blessing. It has given her a hope and deep joy. It has given back a part of her soul where being respected, honored and loved is part of her everyday life. Kind words and acts are not so rare anymore. And she has in turn, become grateful, so grateful and grace-filled.
We talk and tend to that which her physical body needs. I realize she is losing weight. In the encouragement that spontaneously erupts, I sense tears sitting at the threshold of her heart. We talk of her medicines, of small changes that would help her feel better and lessen the burden of her body’s suffering. She is so grateful for the smallest effort. I feel unworthy of her gratitude. It is You, Lord, who are working miracles. She catches my eye and tears tremble and fall.
I hope so, she whispers. This place…
Her eyes register her room, her home and her heart remembers her family that welcomed her in:
They are so good to me. Jesus has so blessed me. He has given me so much.
Then we must praise Him.
She nods as she gathers my hand into hers. I kneel then before her, the place where I should be, not before her so much, Lord, but before You in her, for the mightiness of Your grace and mercy are so visible. At the calling out of Your name, she trembles. She trembles. My voice falters; the tears well up and my heart overflows with the resonance of both the depth of past sorrow and overflowing joy in this woman. Only in You, Lord, can the depth of sorrow and suffering coexist side by side with deep joy in beauty. We are touched by Your grace. We are overwhelmed by Your mercy. We are brought to our knees in adoration because You are love. You see through our outside selves which are so imperfect, so filled with blunderings and recrimination, so filled with burdens and sorrows that have packed their way around us and around our hearts, sheltering us, providing insulation against future hurt and future love. But in this woman, in this place, in Your presence, light has dawned:
You, Lord turn darkness into light. (2 Samuel 22:29, KJV)
You Lord, enlighten our darkness. (Psalm 18:28, KJV)
In You is life, and Your life is the light of men.
And the Light shines in the darkness…
That is the true Light which gives light to everyone.
(adapted from John 1: 4-5, 9, NKJV)
Without Your light, without Your love my Lord, our burdens are so heavy, our sufferings ponderously grievous. But You who spoke and said: Let light shine out of darkness (2 Corinthians 4:6, NKJV), made Your light shine in our hearts, made Your light shine in this woman’s heart, to give her the light of the knowledge of Your glory, in the face of Christ. You speak to her and say:
You were once darkness, but now you are light in Me. (Ephesians 5:8, NKJV)
Live as a child of light, my beloved. Live as a child of light.
For you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood,
a holy nation,
A people belonging to Me that you may declare
My praises.
I have called you out of darkness into My wonderful light.
Once you were not a people but now you are Mine.
Once you had not received mercy
But now you have received mercy.
(adapted from 2 Peter 2:9-10, KJV)
She trembles at Your Word, O Lord, in Your presence. She is humble and contrite in spirit.
Ahhh, dear one, you are becoming so beautiful.
I hug her cheek to cheek.
