“You’ve worked so hard”

“you deserve it, God will bless you ”

“do your best and God will do the rest”

So, where have I been?

I  have been here, untangling the knots. Untangling the idea that God’s love means He will carry you to every success. Shaking off  every ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me’.

My disease;  these spiritual half truths that reeked of the prosperity gospel, that left me in need of the true physician.

I heard them all so often. Perhaps my failure meant the opposite; that this was my fire and brimstone.

I write to you today, seventh year, not as Dr. Boughdady, but in the knowledge that God loved me so much that He let me fail.

The struggle from bitter to better, from self depreciation to self compassion, that is leading me through a journey of acceptance, so that the image, or who I ought to be, can greet who I really am.

“by the grace of God I am what I am” 1 Corinthians 15:10

“One of the greatest dangers in the spiritual life is self-rejection” – Henri Nouwen

To acquire the mind of Christ means to learn to see myself as He sees me. Sometimes, we think that if we beat our chests hard enough, if we beat ourselves up hard enough, it will make us humble. But, the truth is the opposite. The truth is, real humility is actually recognising who we really are. It is the courage to hear a greater Voice call us His beloved, His successful sons and daughters.

Above all else, failure has been a gift; a very revealing gift. Acquiring the mind of Christ means recognising in the mirror the woman who met her suffering with bitterness and despair. I had read many spiritual books about suffering that I expected to wake up joyful the next morning. But this is no synaxarium story. I found that I was not all who I thought I was; “Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind” Ephesians 41:4, and that I was literally tossed by this wind.

So failure has been a door, a door of repentance, so that He can recreate me from the ashes of this fire.

“we must lay before Him what is in us, not what ought to be in us” – C.S Lewis

Failure helps us shake off the veil of perfection, that we may stand honestly before Him. Failure allows us to grow in compassion for ourselves and for others who are struggling, because we remember how hard things have been for us.

“Joseph was with God and He was successful” has never rang so true, because often we focus on the gift and not the gift-Giver. In the story of the wedding of Canaan we rejoice at the new wine, but we completely miss that in providing the wine Christ was declaring Himself to be the Bridegroom, full-filling the messianic prophesies in Hosea, Songs of Solomon and Isaiah.

If I have the courage to see myself, I will learn to recognise Him in me.

If I have the courage to relentlessly stay with Him, to not run from Him, that makes me successful.

Rewind to a year ago as 2016 gave way to 2017 and 2017 gave way to 2018; I was confronted by a what felt like an endless string of gut wrenching tragedies, dashed hopes and unkindness from the least expected of places. Sadness I hadn’t felt in years gripped my heart, threatening to freeze me to the bone, squeezing forcefully from it all traces of peace and courage.

I’m still raw from it all. I’m still prone to tears in the middle of the night. I’m still tired.

Sometimes shadow days turn to shadow months which snowball and avalanche into a relentless shadow year. I’m still waiting for winter to end and the snow to melt. My heart is left wondering why must this earthly life be riddled with so so so much loss and grief? How long Lord…Left with no solutions, no answer and in the absence of any feelings of warmth and bravery I have come to hardly recognise myself. Suffering has a way of stripping us naked as we confront the silence.

It is there in that silence that I have been wrestling with the question:

Who will I become after the coldest winter in a thousand freezing years?

I have spent a year flitting back and forth between answers, with no escape and no clue in the world what to do or where to go. Looking at this question and then looking at my distress and crippling disappointment of how different things should have been. “Lord, had you been here…” 

We’re told to expect trials in life when we’ve done something wrong, when something is not quite right in our relationship with God – but what happens when we feel we really did try to do what we were supposed to do, yet we are consumed by the shadow of our troubling sorrow. This is sorrow compounded by sorrow. Not only is there pain and loss but there is the crushing sense of God’s absence.

Silence and solitude can be the place of great transformation where we “struggle against the compulsions of the false self, and the encounter with the loving God who offers himself as the substance of the new self” but it can also be the most terrifying place when it feels like death and evil, are breathing down your neck, obliterating any sense of safety and comfort, and heightening the sense of inescapable frailty. Sometimes I have wrestled, other times I have taken one look at those questions, slammed the door of my heart when anger flared and smouldered and shut out the morning, all the while feeding the darkness. I don’t know what has brought me back but between grace and faithful friends that refuse to give up or go away, I find myself home again in silence and solitude, with my pain and my God.

So this season I am standing at the brink of the abyss of despair knowing all I have left is naked trust and naked hope that God is still God despite all of the evidence to the contrary, despite the agony and confusion and injustice of it all.

Can I say with Job, “Even if He slay me, yet will I trust in Him”? 

Do I turn to Christ or deny Christ (perhaps not so much with my words, but by my actions)?

Do I continue to love others or begin to blame, accuse and condemn others?

Do I become lost in self pity and never-ending reflection?

Do I thank God for all things, or do I grumble in my heart, demanding an explanation and another life?

Every difficult and painful circumstance in our life is a source of temptation. Because we are faced with a choice to say “You can do everything, And that no purpose of Yours can be withheld from You”(Job 42:2)…or to doubt Him. But with every temptation there is an opportunity.  An opportunity to grow in humility and patience.

Do I see myself as much more broken, much poorer, much more sinful and confused and clueless than I had expected?

Do I use my pain to at least strive to choose, to commit my self to God and trust in Him despite everything?

Do I see the silence and solitude as a gift to embrace, to turn death into resurrection, the gift to turn earth into heaven?

Do I remain obedient to Christs’ commands even when I feel abandoned like all this pain has somehow happened behind his back?

I am learning that who I will become after the coldest winter, begins and ends in how I answer these questions. But answering ‘yes’ boldly to those questions isn’t a given, not for me anyway. These are outright miracles – the working of grace in my life. I am humiliated and embarrassed to admit how far I’ve fallen from answering ‘yes.’ This is how, I suppose, I must learn to depend completely on the grace of God. In reality the most of what I can do is to lie down and wait. He wills my obedience despite my disappointment but if it does not always come as easily as I would like, then I remain waiting, knocking, seeking, asking – with the assurance that if I do such things I will in the end receive what I have sought. There is humility in this.

It was said that Saint Anthony had a vision of the world full of snares and traps. In a loud voice he cried out, “Lord, who can overcome these snares and traps?” A gentle voice was heard saying, “The humble.”

Rather than ask for humility, I ask God for mercy acknowledging that I am not humble, that I am not “patient in evils for His love’s sake.” If “humility is nothing but the disappearance of self in the vision that God is all” what does this mean in overcoming the traps of suffering? I offer up my pain like I offer up myself as a living sacrifice through “ardent pursuit of prayer and the outpouring of tears” knowing I am too spiritually dull to know what to do about my pain—except to beg for His help.

Humility is using our present circumstances, no matter how powerless and paralysed we feel, as an opportunity to grow in faith, hope, and love and to better serve Him and our neighbours. Perhaps this is why resting our aching spirit outside the gates of repentance when the world beckons to give us relief from our pain is the hardest part of the silence and solitude.

Humility is continuing to love Him and not forsake what He loves when we are broken, despite how unsatisfying obedience and holiness may feel, which in turn creates a place in us for peace to dwell. There is no peace when we lash out in bitterness and despondency.

Humility is trusting Christ’s tender compassion to provide not what I want but what I need, because He is a good Father. It is doing the next right thing. So putting one foot in front of the other, I find snippets of contentment and calm, I show up for the sacraments and for prayer and I show up in the every day lives of my neighbours to be a salt and a light and to share in their joys and sorrows.

Faithfulness in the midst of dying to ourselves is even more precious than joy after Christ’s Resurrection and the relief of despair. Joy and thanksgiving in tribulation, rooted in the knowledge that I am radically loved by a God who is perfecting me, may be the most precious of all, though this joy and gratitude often eludes me. I am certain in the Resurrection we will see with spiritual eyes and we will weep with understanding, remorse, relief, and immeasurable gratitude. Our shadow days will be over. Winter will end.

“Complete trust in God – that’s what holy humility is. Complete obedience to God, without protest, without reaction, even when some things seem difficult and unreasonable. Abandonment to the hands of God.” Elder Porphyrios

“For in proportion to your humility you are given patience in your woes; and in proportion to your patience, the burden of your afflictions is made lighter and you will find consolation; in proportion to your consolation, your love of God increases; and in proportion to your love, your joy in the Holy Spirit is magnified.” St Isaac the Syrian

“Instinctively we cry, “Make haste unto me.” But He does not always respond at once. Like fruit on a tree , our soul is left to scorch in the sun, to endure the cold wind, the scorching wind, to die of thirst or be drowned in the rain. But if we do not let go of the hem of His garment, all will end well.” Elder Sophrony

God saves the humble who cannot save themselves.

When I am in safety and strength, when I can look around me and breathe out with joy that “life is good,” does that heighten my belief that I am loved and protected by a God who is Almighty? Does that make me believe that He is infinitely good?

When I am in chaos, in the midst of fire and in storm, am I prone to believe that He is less merciful, less loving, less of Who I always thought He is?

I’d like to concede the latter to be false, but the evidence of my thoughts and actions beg to plead a different case.

Because a vulnerable 20-year old never deserved the abuse he endured.

A 7-year old girl should never know how it feels to be sexually abused.

No one should be burned alive in the place they call home.

A father, a brother, an uncle in Cleveland, should have sold his car peacefully without a gunshot wound leading to his death.

The news headlines should never need to report 13 deaths and 100 injuries in Barcelona.

And at 2am no one should ever hear that there is a foreign mass growing uninvited in their sister’s brain.

Yet these events and ones of even greater calamity continue on, and here we are, humanity in all our helplessness, left to fend for ourselves, left wounded and crying out to end all the earth shattering pain that surrounds us. And there are those of us who have sang every single hallelujah, who have been pushed further than our knees, face to the ground, wondering ‘how dare you God’ allow any of this to happen.

How dare you,

God.

Amidst the thousands of unanswered why’s, there is a man who is sick named Lazarus, the brother of a servant woman, Mary. Upon hearing of his deathly sickness, Christ should have ran to heal his ailing body, to wipe away his physical suffering and the emotional turbulence Mary and Martha were experiencing. But He didn’t.

“So, when He (Jesus) heard that he (Lazarus) was sick, He stayed two more days in the place where He was.”

John 11:6

He stayed a long and dragged out 4 days, allowing deaths grip to take hold of Lazarus’ weak body, and grief to sweep through his family like a storm.

Why didn’t He stop this?

Why didn’t He care?

Did the sacrifice of the weeping woman at his feet deserve such grief?

How dare you,

God.

The corpse was left rotting for 48hrs in the tomb, then “Jesus said to them (his disciples) plainly, “Lazarus is dead. And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, that you may believe. Nevertheless let us go to him.” John 11:14-15

What about Lazarus and Martha?

What about all their family and friends?

Was their suffering worth the belief of the 12 followers?

“Then, when Mary came where Jesus was, and saw Him, she fell down at His feet, saying to Him, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.””

John 11:32

What about Mary’s sake?

“Therefore, when Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her weeping, He groaned in the spirit and was troubled. And He said, “Where have you laid him?”

They said to Him, “Lord, come and see.”

Jesus wept.”

John 11:33-35

Jesus wept.

Had he come earlier, would he not have spared himself and all of us the tears and the grief?

Jesus wept.

When I realise that too many questions will always remain unaccounted for, maybe those two words are enough to let all the questions remain unanswered. Maybe those two words are the only words that can really soften our hearts to a God who not only allows calamity, but weeps and grieves over it too. Because our alternative is resentment and anger; which I have found to be the heaviest loads to carry, too great for our fragile human hearts.

Maybe deeper than all our questions and pain, the soul cannot rid itself of a truth it bears; the presence and goodness of God. Maybe this is the real problem: the collision between the world’s realities and the Truth give birth to a frustration. A frustration of struggling to live in the the tension of the Truth that God is so good, yet so much calamity surrounds us.

In the tension, sometimes all there is to do, is to raise our hands in surrender, pleading with the Psalmist,

“Restore us, O God;
Cause Your face to shine,
And we shall be saved!”

Psalm 80:3

There are questions unanswered, there will be a million more.

Here’s to our fragile, questioning, human hearts, that are fighting to hope and believe in the glory (“This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” John 11:4)

No one can ever minimise your suffering.

God is good. Life can be hard.

Yet His wounds are not the end of anything..

Let me tell you a simple tale of a man who endured unparalleled pain, and prevailed. Listen, as I share with you the story of he who lost it all, to gain everything.

I recently met up with an old friend and we reminisced over painful events in the past, sharing the ways in which God had helped us to cope with them. As he vulnerably opened up to me, I couldn’t help but notice the intricate works of the Lord throughout his life that had led him to the solid ground he stood on today.

This friend of mine had lost his mother at a very young age and was brought up in a broken home; with very dysfunctional relationships with his siblings. As he shared with me his hopes and dreams as a child, I could see the pain those memories held in his eyes. I sat in the corner of Starbucks repeatedly listening to stories of parental favouritism, negligence from his siblings and emotional abuse, and though my heart ached, I ate up every word he said, eagerly awaiting the revelation of a key to life that I was certain he must have discovered to have become the mighty man he is today.
As he reached the climax of every story he shared with me, a smirk would appear on his face, and after five or six times, I knew exactly what that smirk meant. A big plot twist would ravage the story, and the season of joy or success he would be experiencing, somehow – almost frustratingly – would spiral downwards in an uncontrollably fast way. I’m not going to lie, being the impulsive person I am, his calm demeanor as he spoke began to stress me out, even though none of his past struggles had anything to do with me! I guess I wanted to see the anger and bitterness that had been brewing within him, but to my utter surprise none of that was to be revealed – not because of any wall he may have been putting up, but because there was none.

Friends, believe me when I tell you that evening I heard stories of child abuse, wrongful accusations and consequently wrongful punishments. Stories of deception that would send chills down the coldest spines. Yet this man, with the darkest past, exuded nothing but peace. With the warmest smile, he looked at me in the eyes and said “whatever bad things have happened to me in the past, God has used for good in my life today¹”. Just like that. No complaining, no anger, no self-pity… just the deep revelation that God had used his past seasons of pain for his present joy.

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Isaiah 43:18-19

As he spoke these simple of words of truth, He who dwells within me began to whisper the words He had inspired St. Paul to write to the Philippians; “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:12-13. My friend had truly known what it meant to be in need – in need of money, respect, justice, and love, and he breathed this revelation; that true contentment in every situation can only be achieved through Him who gives you strength. Strength to endure the unendurable. He recognised that apart from His Saviour he could accomplish nothing², “and that, Michael, is why I feel free” he told me simply, with a joyful smile, as if the Holy Spirit had bathed him in peace and liberty.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”
John 15:5

This wise man that sat before me at our small two-seater table in Starbucks in Westfield Shopping Centre had figured it out. He’d given me the key to life that I desperately wanted to learn from him. He had come to the revelation that seasons change but the Lord God Almighty forever remains the same³. A revelation that gifted him with tremendous confidence in His Maker, confidence during painful seasons that though he stood helpless before great mountains, His Saviour is and will forever be able to turn them into level ground⁴ for him to walk through to greener pastures.
As our conversation came to an end, my friend looked at me one more time, and humbly said “…and you know the best part about all this? It’s blessed my present and made me forget all about my past.^5″.

Those were the simple words spoken by a simple man who lived a great life, and his words rung ever so loudly in my ears. A man who had tasted what it meant to be in need and to have plenty. A man who recognised that apart from His Creator he could do nothing, but through Him could do all things. A man who, with ease, embraced seasons past, recognising that they led him to where he stood today.

If you want to meet my friend, find him in Genesis 37-50.
His name, is Joseph.

And the cutting winds that blew violently, hushed. The roaring waves that crashed ferociously, silenced. The devastated earth that was shaken, became still. A New Season had begun…

[1] Genesis 50:20
[2] Genesis 41:16
[3] Malachi 3:6
[4] Zechariah 4:6-7
[5] Genesis 41:51-52

There is a question that I believe can transform our relationships, a question we need to all ask each other more:

How can I comfort you?

Above all, remember “if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves…Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself.” (Philippians 2)

It is the comfort God has lavished on us that calls us to comfort others. Because of the pain we’ve felt, we no longer have to be strangers to the pain of another. When we choose to walk through the difficult times with Him by surrendering our ego and emptying ourself, we can receive the tenderness and gentleness of His healing presence. When we experience the power within His humility that invites, the power within His soft touch that had no fear in gently touching the blind or lame, nor writing carefully in the sand to help another; we will know how to comfort others out of our own ache.

Yet how often do I ask my loved ones how they need to be comforted? How often do I wonder how they receive comfort best? How often do I pay attention to learn which actions or words resonate deeply with them and which don’t? How often am I quick to comfort those in my life in the way I like to be comforted, neglecting that they are not me? Comfort has a language of its own and there is something undeniably powerful in a friend who knows how to speak the language of comfort that your soul understands, like feeling that everything you lost in the pain is coming back to you.

“The most important ingredient we put into any relationship is not what we say or what we do, but what we are.”  Stephen Covey

I still remember the day I found out that I had to withdraw from medical school. I remember wanting nothing more than to run from the torment of failure as I felt the foundation that I had built my dreams, hopes and even identity crumble. That was the same day I tasted comfort, like the Promised Land dripping of milk and honey in the midst of a wilderness, in a way I had never known before.

My friend stayed with me, cried with me, wrapped me in a red blanket and sang Psalm 13 to me.

“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?…But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.” 

Divine comfort took on flesh in my friend’s faithfulness to stay. This Psalm embodies the true unsurpassed beauty of comfort. Though it may not change our circumstances, though it may not take away the pain, it strengthens our heart to praise in defiance of the moment. True comfort is a fortress against wailing winds and the fearful elements of disaster that threaten to swallow our home. Because my friend stayed, I know that it takes an embrace and a shirt to stain with mascara and tears, to remember to breathe, find a moment to be still – just like that, I settle, soften and make space for the pain. The harsh voice of judgement drops to a whisper and I remember again that as much as I want to stop the madness and control the chaos, I can ask for the grace to let go through the healing found in comfort. Together with those who are long-suffering enough to bear our burdens, who choose to decrease as He increases in them by comforting us, we walk slowly into the mystery. The mystery that more than answers or solutions people desire comfort. More than fleeing from a broken and contrite heart, refusing the suffering, God desires our surrender. Surrender is not defeat, but victory. To learn how to comfort and to be willing to receive comfort from one another is how we win.

“You cannot be too gentle, too kind. Shun even to appear harsh in your treatment of each other. Joy, radiant joy, streams from the face of him who gives and kindles joy in the heart of him who receives. All condemnation is from the devil. Never condemn each other…instead of condemning others, strive to reach inner peace.” St Seraphim of Sarov

Sometimes comfort comes to us in unexpected packages; His is the gift of his own life within us, sharing His own joy and love in the midst of the confusion and anxiety that encloses us, in the midst of all the ways we try to escape from the pain outside of His life in us.

With His life in me, I am given a choice, to waste my pain and the pain of others or to give and accept comfort freely. And so as with all of life, it is always choices such as these that determine where we are going and how our own journey moulds us and influences those around us. It is a choice to be a healing presence to others. With this choice, pray to be sensitive to how the person before you longs to be comforted. Be brave enough to give sacrificially to meet each other’s need to be comforted and to ask: how can I comfort you?

“Love is not contingent on our wholeness. Love is with us in our shame, our fear, our weakness, and is with us through it. And Love has the final word”

“What does it mean to become a healing presence? And probably more important, how do we increase our ability to do that? I think already you can see that this definition is an operational definition for love delivered; love on the street; love in our lives; love with each other.

Let’s look at what a healing presence is. It means that when someone, you or me or some other human, has done something to give me strength or hope. And you might ask in your life recently, who in your life did give you strength or hope when you felt in need a little? And what were the ingredients of that? How was that done? That’s the way we learn how to do that for each other. It means that I do something and give someone else what Christ gives through me. Grace has a life of its own. And in that sense, healing can become contagious. Others feel it, experience, and see it, and then perhaps do it a little more themselves.

Christ is our physician; our complete healer. And He wants us to be His humanity on this earth for each other, to the extent that we can. We’re His healing presence for each other or not. We are a healing presence to others when we give them strength; we have an encounter with them. We give them strength when we give them hope. They leave us, whether it’s a very brief or a sustained encounter, with strength and hope.”

Albert Rossi

When we make the goal everything, the journey is vaporized; it becomes nothing. The eyes of the world tell me to seek nothing but to achieve. That my time is without purpose, if it is not certified by pen and paper. But I want to experience what it really means to be educated; to be made perfect and whole.

‘And he said unto her, Daughter, your faith has made you whole; go in peace’ – Mark 5;23

‘Paideia’ is a greek work that means the consciously shaping the young to understand and appreciate “the beautiful and the good” ,always pursuing “excellence” or “virtue.” All throughout Greek literature the end goal (telos), is to become a whole-person. Education is understood as the satisfied life of flourishing, that the mature (teleios) alone can experience. This goal (telos) and state of maturity (teleios) are both important Greek words that appear in the Bible, often translated as “perfect” and “perfection.”

“Christ is the true educator. Christ not only is the teacher that ‘guides to develop the capacity to know, but also makes you pure and capable of retaining the revelation of the Word”
– St Clement of Alexandria.

Though it may seem I am stepping on firey coals, eager to jump from one coal to the next, He is purifying my heart with every step. So sometimes that means letting the fiery embers singe the bottom of my feet so that I can one day run free. The world says run from the pain and hush it to silence till the season passes. The world says winter will soon pass, and the summer’s sun will soon crack open the hardened skies with its rays. But I say how soon is now? Because every season is for a purpose. The naked branches in winter are just as beautiful as the full leaves of summer.

The truth is, I will say; ‘wait on the Lord, be of good cheer, the Lord will strengthen your heart’ one hundred times before I say ‘I have overcome, I have run the race.’ Let us stand steadfast in the strengthening. As we turn each page of the book, let us rejoice in knowing that each turn is a step into faithfulness and a step into living fully right where we are.

“Be entirely engaged in the process of your work, and be entirely disengaged in the outcome of your work.
You can’t determine outcome but you can determine to come and put in everything you have.
Let your joy be in doing the work, not in the outcome of the work
The journey not only maters more than the destination the journey actually becomes the destination”
– Ann Voskamp

If you are faithful in little things, you will be faithful in large ones.
Luke 16:10

The greek word for “disciple” is (mathetes). The word means a student, a learner, the follower of an educator/pedagogue. Whether in the Jewish rabbinic tradition or the many forms of ancient Greco-Roman paideia, an educator gathers disciples/students and trains them to maturity of mind and soul. At the fundamental level of our identity Christians are called disciples, students. And one unmistakable—but often overlooked identity of Christ—Jesus is our Great Educator.
So in this season of studying, I will let Christ be my teacher and I will let the each day studying be lived fully.

The way of Jesus is a journey, not a destination.
“Don’t ever be concerned with failing, only be concerned with failing to keep going”
– Ann Voskamp

“Happiness can only be achieved by looking inward & learning to enjoy whatever life has –and this requires transforming greed into gratitude”
– St John Chrysostom

“If my life is broken when given to Jesus, it is because pieces will feed a multitude, while a loaf will satisfy only a little lad.”
– Elizabeth Elliot

“Much of your pain is the bitter poison by which the physician within you heals your sick self.”
– Khalil Gibran

Hurt people, hurt people…
I am tattered with scars, scars that if you look closely, you can trace contours and grooves, like lines of a map. They are clues to a treasure, a quest I am still embarking. They are knitted together with love like a patchwork quilt, each part is unique and chosen.

Scars are never ugly because they always have a story.

A story of grace and healing, a story that says that though He wounds,He will bind up.

A story that says that though you were once sick like Simon’s wife’s mother, you too will be called to arise and serve those that healed you and those that hurt you.

“Love to be real, it must cost—it must hurt—it must empty us of self.”
– Mother Theresa

It’s true, sometimes the thorn that pierces us can leave others bleeding as they embrace us, the broken sometimes have spiky edges. But what if one day the thorn that once pierced my flesh becomes a seed that grows into a beautiful garden of compassion.What if hurt people stopped hurting people? What if hurt people could heal people?

“Come, let us return to the LORD. He has torn us to pieces but he will heal us; he has injured us but he will bind up our wounds.”
Hosea 6:1

“For he wounds, but he also binds up; he injures, but his hands also heal”
Job 5:18

“But Simon’s wife’s mother lay sick with a fever, and they told Him about her at once. So He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up, and immediately the fever left her. And she served them”
Mark 1:30-31

I have been wounded for love. I have learnt that love and pain are streams that lead to the same river, they are notes in one long symphony, they often meander and intertwine. That is why it is said that Love is as strong as death, because if it doesn’t kill you, it sure will make you bleed. To really love someone, means to suffer with them, and sometimes because of them. But, through the pain, I have cast out my blood stained robes of pride, so that unveiled and wounded, I have learnt what it means to partake of His suffering…and of other people’s.

“Through compassion it is possible to recognise that the craving for love that people feel resides also in our own hearts, that the cruelty the world knows all too well is also rooted in our own impulses. Through compassion we also sense our hope for forgiveness in our friends’ eyes and our hatred in their bitter mouths. When they kill, we know that we could have done it; when they give life, we know that we can do the same. For a compassionate person nothing human is alien: no joy and no sorrow, no way of living and no way of dying… The great illusion of leadership is to think that man can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there.”
– Henri Nouwen

God uses the broken for His glory. Blessed are the cracked, for they let the light in.

Hannah had bitterness of soul over infertility and a broken domestic situation.
Elijah felt so beaten down that he asked God to take his life.
Job and Jeremiah cursed the day that they were born.
David repeatedly asked his own soul why it was so downcast.
Even Jesus, the perfectly divine human, lamented that His soul was overwhelmed with sorrow.
He wept when His friend died.

Our pain is always with purpose, there is a always a message in the mess. Our pain is the point at which, even for just a fraction of infinity, His heart touches mine because He knows what it means to be wounded for others. But, once our wounds have healed they no longer ooze with regret and self condemnation. The wound is the place where the light enters you, where we bleed out love and healing. Our wounds scream out; its because you are glorious that these things happened to you. Through our healing, we can heal people.

I pray and ask, how can I be the oil of the good Samaritan? The Greek word for Mercy is ‘eleos’, which is the same root of the old Greek word for oil. So I pray, let our mercy be poured out on the wounded. Let us stand by valiantly, even in silence, close enough to warm broken hearts, avoiding the distance of pity as well as the exclusiveness of sympathy. Our God is not a God of confusion, so let us reflect the Divine by not adding tip or trick. Having the ability to go to the place of our own suffering and meet them right where they are , having the patience to tolerate not knowing and not saying but facing the reality of the the pain in its fullness, letting it be felt.

“The path to God is a daily cross. No one has ascended to heaven by way of ease. We know where the easy way leads.”
– St Isaac the Syrian

“If God sends you many sufferings, it is a sign that He has great plans for you and certainly wants to make you a saint.”
– St Ignatius of Loyola

Greek Mythology;

‘The Greek myth of Chiron, the centaur from whose name chirurgie is derived in French and surgery is derived in English, can help us to understand. The Greek gods Apollo and Artemis taught medicine to Chiron. Chiron was wounded by an arrow from Heracles’ bow. He did not die (because gods are immortal); instead, he suffered excruciating pain for the rest of his eternal days. It was because of his grievous wound that Chiron became known as a legendary healer in ancient Greece. Chiron later took an orphaned child, Esculapius, into his care. The son of Apollo and a mortal, Coronis, Esculapius had been spared certain death when Apollo snatched him from his dead mother’s breast just as she was about to burst into flames. The orphan was entrusted to Chiron, who taught him everything he knew about the healing arts. It was thus that Esculapius became one of the two founding fathers of Western medicine.

In 1951, Jung first used the term wounded healer. Jung believed that disease of the soul could be the best possible form of training for a healer. In a book published days before his death, Jung wrote that only a wounded physician could heal effectively. In so doing, Jung drew upon the myth of Chiron, making it one of the most fundamental archetypes of human history and modern medicine.

There is always a star in the darkness of the night;

I liked it so much, I kissed many. I never believed in considering future consequences, only the here and now, only in the moment where my body lusted and craved another.

I believed in hedonism.

I was a lover of a sugar-coated world, biting deep enough to reach the salt beneath; left parched and bereft. But when invited to dine with the Divine, I counted up the cost and I conceded that He was worth it all. Because when you see the light, darkness doesn’t stand a chance. When you see the light, you cannot deny its existence.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death, upon them a light has shined.”
Isaiah 9:2

We tend towards hiding our not-so-pure stories, locking them deep into caskets that no one may see or hear. We profess forgiveness like we do breathing, yet shame whispers “tell no one” and we trust its every word. In a community amongst those who testify to the living Word, Who is pure and holy, Who calls us to be as He is, we feel there is no room for our stories of grace. We see the awe in people’s eyes as they intently listen to testimony after testimony, whilst observing how the same story-tellers are not trusted, always on trial. So we sit in silence, hear stories like ours being called a disgrace, bite our tongues as people express the need to marry only a “pure” spouse.

Yet, forgiveness does not beckon silence. And grace does not hide away our past sins. Rather it holds each thorn up to the light and transforms them into pure white lilies, with each petal holding a unique story, not to be forgotten, lest the power of grace be forgotten.

There’s a woman whose story I know well. Or perhaps, it is she that knows mine. A nameless woman, yet not a faceless one, for I have seen her face countless times when I’ve looked in the mirror. The courageous woman on the sixth hour of Wednesday eve.

She can see the Man she came for. She had heard that Christ had come to the house of the Pharisee. It was not too late to turn around, forget it all, save looking foolish, call it a moment of insanity. Yet, despite any doubt, she feels her feet carry her forward. Ardent, panting and perspiring, she makes her way to the large inner chamber of the banquet weaving through all the people. She does not dare look up. She can feel the heat of their burning disproval on the back of her neck. She hears the steady hum of conversation dwindle to hushed tones of disgust and scandal as they recognise her. People are moving a safe distance away from her. She pays them no mind, her eyes locked on this one Man. She had boldly chased after many men, but none like this. The room is silent now as they realise Who she came for. Does she really have the audacity to come before this righteous Man who claims to be God?

She walks forward, with one thing in mind. Sharp inhale. She stops right in front of him. Without lifting her eyes from the ground, she quietly and slowly kneels and lets down her hair. Memories flash before her of all those nights she used her hair as a snare to seduce, remembering all those fingers that ran wild and passionately through them. Her vision blurs as her eyes pour. Thick, heavy droplets of regret fall to His feet. She remembers the words spoken to her, how it was always her eyes that drew them in and held them captive, possessing their own alluring power. The eyes that stained her life with sin, now moistened His feet.

She stammers. With no words to say she does the only thing she could; she washes His feet. She takes her trembling hands, the same vessels that fed the pleasures of men, cups His feet and holds the thick strands of her locks to wipe them. She wonders if she has crossed a line, but He does not stop her or move away. She was accustomed to desiring men, but never desiring their forgiveness.

She takes her lips, lips that eagerly sought and caressed bare flesh, and kisses His feet. The room breaks out in shock; horror and objections ring loud in the room. An exchange of mutterings, naming her immoral, worthless and irreverent. She feels Him staring at her but she feels no fear and no shame. The others see Him staring at her, in a way they haven’t seen Him stare before. His eyes glisten, there is warmth. She knows how it feels to be stared at by a man, a ravaging stare full of fervent desire, but this was not the same. She feels Him look right through her. She is known, for the first time.

She pulls out her alabaster flask, her costly jar of sensual pleasure used to arose her lovers. The memories race, the images flash. She forcefully pushes them away as she breaks the alabaster flask. Her tears mingle with perfume and she continues to wipe with her hair. She kisses and pours; impure lips become holy. The beautiful fragrance rises. He does not speak but she feels His radiating, pure love. She feels something unexplainable she has never known before. Is this acceptance? Is this what it means to belong? She lifts up her head, looks Him in the eye, and she knows; nothing will ever be the same.

Luke 7 has its ending, but I’ve always wondered what happens next. I think of her departure to her normal life after being told that she was forgiven and loved. I think of how she must have replayed that moment over and over again in her head, how she must have wanted to tell everyone, scream and dance because of how light she felt and how her heart must have burst with joy. That cherished moment she shared with Her Saviour will forever be theirs. I also think of the men who must have knocked on her door that night. All those men that kept knocking because they never believed that she could change. I think of years of learnt behaviour that was like second nature and all she saw from her former life when she closed her eyes to pray. I think of her walking back into her bedroom, those four walls that contained all her unchaste amorous nights, and trying to pray. To rise in the place that she fell.

For, redemption is no passive, tidy ideology. Redemption is real and redemption is messy, it is as messy as sweat and a bloody cross. And it is on that same cross that the proclamation was made, “Tetelestai,” confirming the end, it is finished, it is done. No need to walk with head hanging low, shame raised high, but walk joyously in the light. The light that beckons every soul; those who have given in to every single fleshly desire and all those who haven’t. Because the Light does not differentiate, it infiltrates every darkness; and darkness has no measure. It is that same Light that looks upon us with the eyes of compassion and gives us the assurance that,

“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit.”
Romans 8:1

Our belief in this truth is dependent solely on ourselves and not in other peoples responses to our former life, our own thoughts or the enemies lies. Our remembrance of our sexual sin can be crippling. We may be crippled by the way we once behaved; disregarding the holy in ourselves and in others. We may be crippled by the fear of falling back into old ways, and the fear of being too marred in the eyes of another. The taste of sexual pleasure is not an easy one to forget, and we may fear our longing for that same gratification. We may be haunted by the words spoken once on dark nights, or the daily glances that remind us of the power we possess. It is a life-long battle to fight, whilst holding tight to the truth that there is now no condemnation, and expectantly praying, “According to your good will, O God fill our hearts with your peace. Cleanse us from all blemish, all guile, all hypocrisy, all malice and the remembrance of evil entailing death” (The Liturgy According to St Basil the Great).

And as we pray this, may we approach the Eucharist, His own flesh and blood, just as the woman approached Him, offering every piece of herself at His feet, broken like the alabaster jar. She recognised Him not as an ordinary man but as her Saviour, yet we often approach Him as mere bread and wine, blind to the Majesty that pours Himself out before us. Let us walk repentantly, with fear and trembling, towards the Holy One and partake of the exchange of life that He offers, no matter what sin we laid with the night before, knowing that His love grants us the audacity to approach Him with confidence and being rooted in His Life, the mystical power to flee all other lovers.

So I will not be afraid to speak of my past sin, the desire of sin on skin, the Edenic memory of Adam and Eve’s freedom in expression and pleasure corrupted and abused. Because, this I know, forgiveness and freedom is mine, and though I am a woman of unclean lips, as my lips touch His feet, there is redemption’s tale to tell.

Let the fragrance rise.

Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a live coal which he had taken with the tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth with it, and said:
“Behold, this has touched your lips; Your iniquity is taken away, And your sin purged.”
Isaiah 6:6-7

This body
My body
A swift sword
A time bomb
Ticking
Cutting

This soft skin that curves around me
That frames and encompasses me
I have seen its unsurpassed powers
I have tasted its intoxication
Eyes wide open
To its irresistible magic

Hard to forget
Its delicious sweet nectar
Dripping subtle, potent poison
This body
Is not a body
But a weapon

Of charm and deceit
Of self seeking ambition
I waste in admiration and affirmation
I glory in attention and adoration
I am a queen
Fluent in Sensuality’s language

The power euphoric
The formula, tried and tested
A gaze and a flutter of the eyes
The control to summon and cast away
The siren song that calls your name
To shipwreck on the stones

And I howl
“Come, I will take away your pain”
To those that pant for it gladly
Like a dark mist
Leaving corpses rotten and defiled
Asphyxiating all breath, all life

So I numbed all feeling
Revelled in my conquer and rule
Sank my feet in my reckless storm
This body
Is just a body
Empty, hollow and cold

The more it consumes
The more it seeks to devour
This body is flames
A trail of dust in its wake
Nothing it touches will escape
Nothing is left standing

Least of all myself
This body is foreign
I do not want it
So I hide and cover it
Who can free me
From this body of death?

A stranger in this body of death
Dismembered from my lifeless soul
I feel my body’s betrayal
Under a man’s unrelenting gaze
I feel the poison flood my veins again
When their heads turn

I am reminded of the queen I could be
The thrill of control
I feel the rumbling and the stirring
Threatening to take over
Seduction is awakening
She is hungry from her slumber

But I will deprive her
Lay her down in silent, painful death
Bind her in burial cloths and dig a grave
Roll a boulder in front of the entrance
Scream TETELESTAI
For indeed, it is finished

Because I am not poison, I am not sword
And I wait on a promise like a thread
Keeping me from fraying at the edges
Of the God who calls out to dry bones
Giving life to sinew after sinew
The God who never fails those who wait

The God who wore humanity’s chains
To shatter our every chain
The God who rolls heavy stones away from tombs
And raises from the dead
The God who puts heavy stones down out of your hand
And says, “Live loved”

In truth, I believe that in Him
All the old has passed away
In the Spirt
I am finally liberated
The Veil torn
My face unveiled

He steps into my tomb
And when I look Him in the eyes
I see myself
He tells me who I am
Not thorn but Lily
He tells me Rise and live

I believe, help my unbelief.

Co-written with Sandra.

To my teenage self,

So I guess around this time of your life you’re probably depressed and all alone waiting for someone to just look at you, notice you, want to know you. You’ve tried reaching out for help and showing a little bit of yourself to people, only to be terrified at the thought of them leaving because of what they will see. You’ve always chased after friends and people because you always give your best efforts with friends. You’ve always had that sense of duty to always check up on them and to always make time for them even if you have studying to do or a test the next day. And the pain and worthlessness you felt when no one would check up on you unless you initiated was so strong, yet you couldn’t express it. You’ve been told that you were too sensitive and you didn’t like how you felt everything much deeper than anyone else would.

Guys were never really your area of expertise. You’ve had feelings for a lot of guys, but none of them seem to have feelings for you back. After a while, you started believing that something must be wrong with you. After all, you’ve put on your best self and they still didn’t like it.

You’ve always longed for something more or someone to share thoughts or emotions with. Someone to give your everything to, someone to tell you its all going to be ok. Someone to fix you, to look at you – to really look inside – and not be afraid or run away. Your heart is aching, your spirit is downcast, you need help and don’t know why or where to turn.

In about 4 more years you’ll meet this guy, he’s a church guy, so even better, right? He’s finally here! You’ve prayed to God for someone for so long! You even told God that you’d rather wait a while until the right person comes along as long as he’s the one! And it happened! Someone who you finally get to share and give your everything to! Your thoughts, your feelings, your deepest fears, and mistakes. Sweetheart, you’re going to let this guy into the deepest part of your heart, you’re going to ignore all the signs that maybe this isn’t a good idea. You’re aware of the signs, but you’re willing to look past them and work together to fix them, because that’s what you do in relationships. It’s a partnership; you’re responsible for each other. But, we both know you have this trait that’s not exactly a good thing or a bad thing. When you fall, you fall hard – you give everything you’ve got to something. You don’t hold back. It’s all or nothing.

Well, that’s exactly what you’re going to do in that relationship. You’re going to give him everything; emotionally, physically, and mentally. And it doesn’t feel wrong or anything because that’s what you thought you’re meant to do. God was an essential part in the beginning of your relationship, but slowly, over time you lost track of Him. You started becoming more focused on him, and he became your world. Everything revolved around him. You couldn’t do anything or be upset about anything without talking to him. And let me mention that it was not easy, we both know how hard it is for you to trust someone. But, he did it! He earned that trust. He even promised he’d never leave you and said all these sweet things to you.

Well, as you turned your eyes away from Him and put it on him, desires came in and were “satisfied”. Problems came in and were “dealt with”. You were both each other’s everything for a while. And when you felt bad or distant from God, you took breaks from each other to help “focus on God.” But you couldn’t stay away; he could, but you couldn’t. And when there were problems and there was no one to turn to, then you turned to God. Everything was ok.

He told you that you made him a better person. You thought your were happy. You put him first, above all else. You tried putting him second, but you get so consumed with your emotions that you just can’t help it. This is your weakness. Well, he’s the one, right? Everything is good, right? He accepted you for who you are, and you accepted him for all he is, so what else could you ask for? Oh, did I mention that he promised he’d never ever leave you? Dude, he loves you, right?

Wrong.

This guy will leave you, abandon you, take away everything you ever hung on to, everything you believed, and he will do it without any gentleness or love. He will leave without a good reason. You will go crazy trying to figure out where you went wrong; what did you do wrong? Did you share too much information? Were you too dependent? Were you too ‘down’ emotionally?

You finally had someone and you gave him everything! And now everything you thought you knew meant nothing. Your emotions and your attachment had no value. You world will turn upside down. You will make yourself sick with the amount of thinking and attempting to figure out where you went wrong. You will beg and plead with him to fix this together You will change anything he wants, as long as he stays!!!

Sweetheart, your value does not depend on him. You are more than that. You are not worthless; you are the daughter of King of Kings. You need to hold yourself up in that standard. God has called you by your name and has great plans for you.

A boy who isn’t sure about what he wants even though he seemed 110% sure is not someone who is ready to be in a relationship. The reason he gave you for leaving was that God had told him so. He needs to get closer to God and he cannot manage to do that within a relationship. And that, added on more pressure and confusion to your world. What did that mean? Did that mean I’m causing him to sin? Am I taking him away from God? Am I against God? Am I God’s enemy??

It will take a bit of time until you get all the answers you need. There are still some unanswered questions, but you will realize that you don’t need to know – in fact, it doesn’t change anything.

By this happening, you were forced to seek God for comfort and answers. Your relationship with God began to heal and really start unfolding. God became (always was and will be) your Saviour, Helper, Healer, Father, and Love. You will begin to see all the sins and mistakes you have made that you were unaware of. They will haunt you and the memories will be hard to bear. But, by the grace of God you will get through it. This experience, though it was the most painful thing you have ever endured, was necessary for you to gain an incredible thing – an intimate relationship with Christ. You will find everything you need and want in God! Everything that you thought relationships were designed to fulfill is what you’re supposed to seek from God because He is love in all its fullness!

You will start to really understand what love is and you will cry at God’s act of love. There, your world will begin again with Him. You will begin to see everything from a different perspective when you’re so focused on Him! You will even thank Him everyday from saving you from a relationship that was going in the wrong direction. You will put your trust and faith in Him because God is good all the time. You will begin to see that your desire and thirst for something more is indeed satisfied by God. His power is made perfect in your weakness and you will experience that first hand. You will look back and wonder how you ever got this far. It is not by your strength (I still remember when you were sitting in your room for months crying your heart out and unable to do anything), but it is by His grace, mercy, and strength. He saved you, He carried you through. You came to Him naked and he clothed you. He gave you comfort, peace, and love.

And now, you will be careful with everything. You will find your worth in Him who created you. You will want to be so transparent just to allow others to see God through you. You will want to spread joy and love to others. You will want to talk to Him and know Him more. Because that endless thirst for something more, He’s got it. He is Love. He is gentle, calm, loving, kind, and He loves you. Draw near to Him every day, seek him in everything you do. Seek his peace and His presence daily. Whatever you do, do not stop talking to Him. You always feel His presence and His hand in the toughest times. Do not be discouraged when you don’t feel His presence. Rest in the fact that He is there and will never leave you. For real this time. He’s been there all along. You were just too stubborn to see it.

Love,

“The Lord your God is with you,
the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
but will rejoice over you with singing.”

Zephaniah 3:17

…not because it was a phenomenal movie (although I can say that it was really well put together) but because of the profound significance that it had to me personally.

Have you ever had a moment where you deeply identified with a character in a story, whether presented in the form of a movie, play, or even book? Well that’s what happened with me and The Great Gatsby.

The narrator of the story, Nick Carraway, introduces his friend Gatsby as “…the single most hopeful person I’ve ever met, and am ever likely to meet again”

As he comes to know Gatsby more and more he sees clearer and clearer “Gatsby’s extraordinary gift for hope… a gift that I have never found in any other person”

The story, at its core, revolves around an elaborate mirage Gatsby has concocted in his mind and has come to believe wholeheartedly. He hopes without any reservation; he dreams no matter how seemingly unrealistic… that the love of his life, Daisy Buchanan (who is now married to another man), will come back to him. Even more absurd is his persistence that they are to start their relationship right where they left off four years ago as if nothing had happened in the meantime.

[Gatsby] wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was.

I liken his mental state to the verse in Romans 4:18 referring to the faith of Abraham “who, contrary to hope, in hope believed”

But there is one major difference.

Gatsby hoped in a situation, a person, an idea –  we are supposed to hope in GOD!

Too many of us (myself included) are so easily occupied in having faith in the wrong thing… things that perish, that don’t satisfy, that don’t sustain…

We believe the lies of the enemy telling us that we would be better off if we only had [this] relationship, [this] amount of money, [this] car, health, power.. whatever it may be.

What Is Hope?

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1)

Hope feeds faith. Put another way, the faith you have in something comes from the amount of hope you put into that thing. The more you hope for health, wealth, and whatever else.. the more you believe [or have faith] that those things will satisfy, sustain, and ultimately save you. See the problem?

It completely shifts our focus from hoping and having faith in God

Have you ever hoped for something and then reached that goal? What happened? I bet you thought to yourself, “Is this all there is? I thought there was more to it than this…”

That’s because we hope and have faith in the wrong thing too long that we fool ourselves into believing that if we only get [insert blank here] we will have it made. Hebrews 3 mentions the “the deceitfulness of sin” and in my opinion there is no better adjective to describe it.

Gatsby’s story portrays this brilliantly:

“Gatsby himself didn’t believe [her call] would come, and perhaps he no longer cared. If that was true he must have felt that he had lost the old warm world, paid a high price for living too long with a single dream. He must have looked up at an unfamiliar sky through frightening leaves and shivered as he found what a grotesque thing a rose is and how raw the sunlight was upon the scarcely created grass. A new world, material without being real, where poor ghosts, breathing dreams like air, drifted fortuitously about….”

Hoping for other things besides God always leaves you wanting more. You go from one level of achievement to the next never finding satisfaction – never finding true fulfillment

What Should We Hope In?

Psalm 42 exclaims:

Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

What a beautiful passage! Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him. God is the one we should trust to save us from whatever situation. God is the one we should focus on. God should be our God and nothing and no one should take his place.

Here are a couple more passages:

Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the Lord their God. (Psalm 146:5)

But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him,
on those whose hope is in his unfailing love (Psalm 33:18)

No one who hopes in You will ever be put to shame (Psalm 25:3)

My prayer is simple:
Lord teach us how to HOPE IN YOU ALONE!!!