Last night, sometime hard to describe and intense happened to me. It was as though, in my heart, Christ did exactly what this verse said He would do:
"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed and qualified me to preach the Gospel of good tidings to the meek, the poor, and afflicted; He has sent me to bind up and heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the [physical and spiritual] captives and the opening of the prison and of the eyes to those who are bound..."
Isaiah 61:1
Last night I was recognizing and mourning all my wounds. I saw how captive my spirit had been, how heavy and burdened. He gave me a voice and a safe passage for the intense anger I held toward what had held me captive.
Almost I could thank Him for the depth of my wounds, because, through them, I can experience the depth of His tenderness.
So. Yesterday I read the gospel of Matthew. Jesus is brusque in that gospel!
Eventually, I got exceedingly nervous. I thought, if He ever talked to me like that, I would curl up in a tiny little ball and die. I got more and more tense as I read along.
I thought, I'd better stop asking all these questions. Maybe I'm being like Nicodemus, who asked questions to avoid the truth he already was on the verge of grasping.
Or maybe Jesus is just going to lose all patience with me and ask me, "Do you still not understand? How is it that you still don't understand this? Are you being willfully stupid?"
This is a horrible thing to worry about. It is this sort of morbid thought, and worse, that used to pervade my Christianity when I was younger. I expected nothing but anger, judgment, impatience, unending demands and exasperation.
Eventually, I had to stop the whole reading. I couldn't take the fear anymore. So then Christ said over and over again to me a whole succession of thoughts.
First, that He spoke to different people in different ways, in ways that related to who they were, and that He would never speak to me in the same way that He would speak to a rough and tumble fisherman and a grown man. He reminded me that a bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not put out.
I never thought about that possibility before, that He might have spoken to people in different ways. I considered it. I realized that, for example, the way He spoke to the sinful woman who washed His feet with her hair was different from the way He spoke to Zacchaeus, for example.
It seems obvious now that I think about it, because He's a personal God and He relates to each of us right where we are, in the language of our hearts.
But I said, give me a verse to reassure me that You're not losing patience with my pestering You. I want a verse.
So He said, "I'll tell you a story. There once was a corrupt Judge..."
I laughed out loud. My love for Him came bursting up out of me like a fountain. I knew that story. He only had to say the first line, and I knew exactly what He was saying to me.
Of course, the widow was pestering for justice, and I'm pestering for understanding, but the principle is the same: constant pestering is rewarded.
We are like gifts to Christ, I realized yesterday. We're given to Him and He delights in us. He heals the wounds we received from living in an imperfect world and He brings us into the fullness of what He wishes us to be. He does it patiently and lovingly and creatively, over the entire course of our life.
He came to us, not when we were perfect or acceptible, but in our sin, and in our pain and imperfection, He comes. Even our anger won't frighten Him away. The language of our hearts that even we have no words for, He understands perfectly.
It is like this:
The Lord is my Shepherd [to feed, guide, and shield me], I shall not lack.
He makes me lie down in [fresh, tender] green pastures; He leads me beside the still and restful waters.
He refreshes and restores my life (my self); He leads me in the paths of righteousness [uprightness and right standing with Him--not for my earning it, but] for His name's sake.
Yes, though I walk through the [deep, sunless] valley of the shadow of death, I will fear or dread no evil, for You are with me; Your rod [to protect] and Your staff [to guide], they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with [a]oil; my [brimming] cup runs over.
Surely or only goodness, mercy, and unfailing love shall follow me all the days of my life, and through the length of my days the house of the Lord [and His presence] shall be my dwelling place.
Psalm 23
