Thursday, August 22, 2013
One Sabbath day he was teaching in one of the synagogues, and there before him was a woman who for eighteen years had been possessed by a spirit that crippled her; she was bent double and quite unable to stand upright. When Jesus saw her he called her over and said, 'Woman, you are freed from your disability,' and he laid his hands on her. And at once she straightened up, and she glorified God.
Gracious and holy God, look upon the weariness of our souls. Touch and lift us. Free us from the load we bear.
Or is even this your will?
How can we ever know that the present moment of trial isn’t the key that opens the door to blessedness?
For bearing the weight that stoops the soul I come to you and am glad of it. I am blessed to be here, tears in my eyes, wondering once more if the disinterested, wandering souls of those I serve is not indication that I am done.
Perhaps I have lost whatever Spirit I once had to draw souls to you. Perhaps I never had it in the first place, and I lived an illusion. But I don’t think so. Truth lies elsewhere.
The needs of my wounded ego to be accepted, treasured and loved become more important than you.
This is the pain of this moment … and the invitation. This is the door to blessedness.
I undergo one more blessed stripping of ego, one more shame, one more experience of the failure to be what I want others to imagine that I am--once more revealing that most of the weight on my shoulders is self-imposed.
And once more I hear the Voice. “Cast aside all thoughts of success and failure, the ego’s petty needs to be seen and taken seriously. Just be. Here. Now.”
You see it all, don’t you, and unlike me you understand the soul’s tangle. And you smile on this soul, this heart that loves and loves you, nonetheless.
“It’s enough,” you say. “It’s enough to hear the Voice of Love telling you to stand up straight and walk.
“I am that Voice.”
“Listen. Nothing else matters.
“Nothing else frees.”
Yes, I know.
Pr. David L. Miller