Saturday, December 18, 2010

What would healing look like for you?

My prayer meandered for awhile this Saturday morning. It took awhile to catch.

Candidly the Daily Office readings were pretty blah. The prophet Isaiah 10:20-27 talked of the Lord "wielding a whip," and then the obscure Letter of Jude 17-25 implored we should save people from unholiness while "hating even the tunic" of those who won't go along with the program. And then we meet up with John the Baptist in Luke 3:1-9 one more time calling us a "brood of vipers."

I get what all this is about, but I've had enough of John the Baptist this season. We've had him every which way, and it feels time to move on from the river and the locusts-and-honey. But I thought, let's dwell with this a little longer, see where we go. My prayer became about ridding myself of my flaws. Isn't that the point of all these lessons today?

Then the Voice said, "Go a little deeper with this. It's not about self-help and self-improvement. It's not about anything you can do for yourself. It's about grace and the power of love."

So I tried to go a little deeper. In my prayer I realized the point is about healing of all that hurts me, all that has wounded me throughout my life, and lifting from my back all of the baggage that I have carried around. I began to picture what healing at its deepest would like like for me, and what it would mean to leave those heavy bags beside the road, and walk on without them. This became very personal and felt very freeing.

What would healing look like for you? What bags do you need to leave beside the road so you can walk on?

And then I heard the Voice say "It is Saturday. It is Sabbath. I made the Sabbath for you today. Be at peace, be at rest this day."

Amen.

1 comment:

Mary-Carolyn said...

Healing would be more than my healing, although that would be considerable. Healing would be no more war, no hungry children, no disenfranchised people, no hang ups on things that don't matter in the long run. It would be peace on earth, love of our fellows, and the complete absence of fear. And those are only the beginning.

Mary Carolyn