It was my day to care for Mama. We had been watching some Hallmark movies and crying over hot dogs and soda. She needed to use the restroom. A very complicated and tedious process. She had a gait belt and needed 100% assistance along the way. We would stand directly behind her, (so close her neck could feel our breath), hold tight to the gait belt around her hips, and steer her down the long hall, around the bedroom door and into the bathroom. We had finished using the bathroom and were back in the living room, two feet away from her couch. However, when her eyes saw her couch, her brain sent the signal to the rest of her body to sit. And she sat. I was trying to keep her standing, "Mama, don't sit yet, we aren't there yet. Just a couple more steps. You've got this." As she continued to sit into the seat of thin air, she panicked, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" she said, so flustered and disappointed with herself. "It's ok Mama, it's ok Mama" I whispered into her ear, as I eased her down to the ground. Once we were both safely to the ground, there was nothing left to do but make her as comfortable as possible. I grabbed a pillow, propped up her head and snuggled close until Daddy could come home and help me lift her from the ground. We laid on the floor together laughing about the predicament we found ourselves in. I knew she was embarrassed and confused, because every couple of minutes she would look over at me with this mischievous look in her eyes and say, "Why are we laying on the floor?!" I would circle back through my answer and we'd laugh all over again.
Here, this incredibly strong woman, who carried me in her very womb, bore me, raised me, led me, fed me, bathed me, taught me, protected me, guided me, held me, shielded me, and disciplined me, now lay completely helpless on the floor.
Life.Altering.
Heart.Shattering.
The older I get, the more intentional I am to surround myself and my family with people who invite us into their naked-Noah messiness. People who pull back the curtains and robes of every day moments, and allow us to gently tread in broken places without the mocking laughter of the sons. Let me tell you why. Lean in close friend. Closer. Let me tell you something. After 28 years of following my Jesus, sojourning through this world that is NOT my home, carrying heavy and impossible burdens along side of my fellow brothers and sister; I've reached the most freeing and life giving conclusion in my dance with the Divine. Sweet Jesus lover, maybe just maybe, we were meant to limp. All of us. Each and every one of us.
Hear me.
I have heard the stories, read the books, loved the souls, listened to the sermons, lived the sacraments, and wrote the words to know a thousand times over; WE ARE ALL LIMPING!!
You can hide it, buy it, bury it, burn it, turn it, spin it, ignore it, forget it, and dress it up with a bible verse. You can call it contemporary, traditional, self-realization, independence or rebellion. You can legalize it, promote it, publish it, record it, and make look it eloquent, holy and honorable. You can rename it, rebrand it, repackage it, and recommit it a million times, but I know better now. WE ARE ALL LIMPING!
And excuse me for a moment, but I cannot think of a more appropriate posture for this side of glory. I cannot think of a more welcoming realization than, "I'm limping, you're limping, can we limp together?!" This could be the motto of my entire marriage. We can better love, minister and mold disciples when we can first admit we are limping.
I can disarm any heated situation with my spouse and my children when I lead with, "Can I show you my messy?!" "Can I show you where I went wrong?!" "Can I show you how my brokenness has contributed to your pain?!" When we are willing to own our junk, name the wounds that make us limp, (and consequently have made others limp) God does the most incredible miracle!
I've watched Him, season after season, story after story, day after day, sickness after sickness, fall after fall, failure after failure.... He takes the willing limper and He makes her leap! He takes the most wounded, broken, and battle weary soul and lifts her up to leaping. Most of the time, the leaping does not always look like what the world tells you it looks like; financial freedom, complete healing, prosperity, happiness, redeemed marriage, reconciled child, comfortable living, endless resources, full churches, job promotions, and the elimination of suffering and struggle altogether. No, no, the leaping that Jesus offers comes in the most mysterious way.
All those hours, all those steps, all those trips to the bathroom with Mama limping by my side, forced me to walk slow enough to find her. In those years of shuffling, I exchanged more meaty conversation with my mom than ever before. My love for her deepened. My respect and admiration grew as her body broke. God chose to not heal my limping Mama on THIS side of glory, but He did allow her limping to lead us to a rich well of relationship.
Fellow limpers, I believe our Savior desires to use our limping to draw us to the everlasting well of relationship with Him. He desires to use our limping to slow us down in order that we might FIND HIM, KNOW HIM, SEE HIM, and DEPEND ON HIM like never before.
We are all limping.
All of us.
The more we expose our brokenness, the more willing we are to lead with a limp, the clearer we will be able to see His body broken for us, and the promise of an eternity of leaping.
Here's to you dear limper!
~Sara
Well said.
ReplyDelete