Bruised

Hi Friend!

Is it warm where you are?  We are up in the 90 degree range in the Pacific Northwest and almost everyone is getting a bit edgy.  When the color of the road doesn’t match the sky it's perplexing. We distrust a completely blue heaven and if the grey doesn’t show after more than a week or so, the population gets nervous.  On that note, most people are enjoying the outdoors but have already planned what book they will curl up and read when it starts raining again.  

I am walking normally again which is nice after limping for a week.  I was about 8 years old when I began to realize that I had an magnificent ability to injure myself.  My older sisters caught on to it first and used to tease me mercilessly.  After about a decade of therapy I can say without any bitterness they were on to something.  I am amazing.  I specialize in burning myself when I bake but recently I’ve started to knock things over just to change things up a bit.  To call me klutzy really doesn’t capture the excellence of my skill set.

The definition of a klutz is an awkward, clumsy or foolish person.  While I can definitely play the fool, awkward doesn’t describe me. I prefer to think of myself as an overwhelming, slightly misguided energy source. To start with, it sounds better and secondly, I get more credit.  Anyone can knock over a drink.  Only a seriously overzealous individual can knock over a drink while trying to stop the remote control from hitting the floor because she dropped a stack of books on the table and sent it flying after she tripped. 

So no one was really surprised last week when I stepped into the pantry and started to shout.  No one, except my 8 year old, who hasn’t been on the planet long enough to realize how talented her mother is.  When she heard me scream, she came running.

“Mummy, what is wrong?”

“ARRGHHH……”

“Mummy?”

“Darling go away!  I hurt myself.”

“But what did you do?”
“DARLING, LEAVE MUMMY BE!!  I CANNOT SPEAK RIGHT NOW AND IF YOU ASK ME ONE MORE QUESTION I’M GOING TO SCREAM.”

“But you are already.  And I didn’t even do anything….(insert quivering upper lip)… I just”

“DO NOT START CRYING!! YOU CANNOT CRY!  LEAVE WITHOUT CRYING IF YOU WANT TO GRADUATE!”

It was at that point my knight in shining armor entered the kitchen.

“Are you bleeding?”

“NO!!”

“Are you burned?”

“NO.”

He calmly put his arms around our daughter, reached for 2 extra strength Tylenol, poured me a glass of water and escorted her from the room.  I took the pills sat on the floor and cried.  After 5 minutes, he came back into the kitchen, handed me a tea towel to dry my tears and grabbed an ice pack.  Only then did he ask me what I did to myself.

I explained I had done absolutely nothing when a very large glass bottle containing cooking oil had launched itself at my foot.  I would like to say I had regained my composure but when he got helpful and placed an ice pack on my foot I punched whatever part of him I could reach.  Being an expert at wife management he moved out of range and sat on the floor with me until I was done being adversarial:  about three years give or take….  

When I had repented to my youngest child and the pain killers had kicked in, I thought about how much pain hurt and how hard it was not to lash out.  I have trouble keeping my mouth shut at the best of times, let alone when I’m injured.  Prayer time that night was interesting because I ended up in the gospels reading about the crucifixion of Jesus.

Very early in the morning, the chief priests, with the elders, the teachers of the law and the whole Sanhedrin, made their plans. So they bound Jesus, led him away and handed him over to Pilate.

“Are you the king of the Jews?” asked Pilate.

“You have said so,” Jesus replied.  The chief priests accused him of many things. So again Pilate asked him, “Aren’t you going to answer? See how many things they are accusing you of.”

But Jesus still made no reply, and Pilate was amazed. Mark 15:1-5

At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.  And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”). When some of those standing near heard this, they said, “Listen, he’s calling Elijah.” Someone ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him down,” he said. With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.  And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”  Mark 15:33-39

Friend when was the last time you walked through the gospels?  Read the crucifixion scene, if you have the time, go through it in each gospel.  At no point does our Lord lose control.  He doesn’t lash out, accuse, or threaten anyone.   I started to think about God’s power to withhold.  We are so blessed to have a Savior who is motivated by love and mercy.  So very fortunate, that the wrath of the Father was taken out upon the Son. 

If you are living for Jesus, I want to ask you something.  Do you think God is angry at you?  Is there anything in your life that you need to bring to the Lord?  Are you worried he is going to be irate in the face of your failure?  The wrath of God has been satisfied dear heart.  Let me encourage you to take your bruises to your God.  His power is amazing, his mercy is splendid, his heart is for you.

I ‘m praying for you this week,

xoxKaren