Oh! How He loves you and me....

Still thinking about pain.

But not mine.

His.

I remember way back when I was in high school, I found an essay on the medical description of what Jesus endured on the cross.  I don't remember the details, but I remember the horrified impression they left.

Now, as we approach "Holy Week", the last 7 days before the crucifixion, I have been praying to understand more of what He went thru.

I am a nurse, so just thinking about the nerve endings tortured (there is no other word for it) for 6 hours on the cross, is daunting.

For most of my life, I thought He had spent only ("only?") three hours on the cross.  But if you read the time of crucifixion carefully, it occurred at 9 am, not noon. The last 3 hours, from 12 to 3pm, were in utter and complete darkness - of the soul as well as the body.

The first 3 hours were all the Father could bear to look at.

When He withdrew, He took the light with Him ("In Him is light, and no darkness at all",) and His presence as well.  In order for Jesus to actually become sin, Jesus had to do it with a totally human perspective.  He chose to be separated for the first time in all eternity (and the last) from the Father God.

I have thought of this quite a bit.

What a choice!

That means that He put aside every iota of knowledge He has as God.  He became like us - in the "dark night of the soul", where we don't have a clue what God is doing in our lives, and must choose, like Jesus, to trust in the darkness.

But not without pain.

Pain is an integral part of the process of faith.

IN spite of not having a clue, in spite of that feeling of "alone-ness", where the voice of God is silent and we feel abandoned in the universe, in spite of the pain and fear engendered by that feeling of wondering if we really do belong to God and if He really does love us, in spite of allll of that, we choose to believe He is Who He says He is.

And Jesus, "being tempted (tried) in all points, even as we are", chose this unimaginable separation from all that is holy, pure, and true.

Think of it!  He Who is light itself, chose to endure darkness, evil, the depths of depravity, so that He could redeem us.

Chose it.

As I mentioned in the last post, it is easier for me to endure physical pain than the pain where the soul itself is twisted and torn and stretched out of shape and tortured.  Physical pain, however it governs our physical bodies, will end with this body, this "tent," as Paul calls it.

Tents are temporary, fleeting.  They can be destroyed by a strong gust of wind, hail, fire, just about anything.  They are flimsy.  The strongest tent is still flimsy.  It is a very temporary entity - and we do not even expect it to stand the test of time.  It will wear out - day by day the elements will ravage it.  It is doomed from the start.

Altho heartache, if we accept His sacrifice, will also end with the body, it  is another animal completely.

I believe that is why, that last night in the garden, He sweat, as it were, "great drops of blood."

That, by the way, is a medically documented process caused by great suffering.

The pain of the cross, after all, was not an exclusive method of punishment.  Legions of felons experienced it.  So what made this particular crucifixion worthy of paying off our sin debt?

It was this separation, this contamination on a level we can only imagine!  A 100% pure soul (not 99% - 100%) Who had never contemplated committing a sin, Who lived - really lived - a life in the presence oF His Father - this pure soul would become, actually become, sin.  One by one.  Filling His being. Tasting of it.  Each breath, which was pain in itself, for He had to push up with His nailed feet and pull on His nailed hands to be able to breathe, each time, with His newly scourged back dragging on splintering wood, each nerve ending screaming with the physical pain, each breath He drew contaminated with evil thoughts and pictures and sensations until He reeked of it.  Every cell full of sin.

My sin.

Your sin.

Every angry thought.  Every rancid deed.  Every wish for someone else to be destroyed for what they did to you. And the doing itself. One by one. Coming at You. Sliding down Your throat. Filling You with bile. Every cruel deed, every perversion, every horrific act devised by man in conjunction with satan.

In the darkness. Alone.

No refuge. No cleansing.

No Father.

Filled to the very brim.

I believe it was the contemplation of this that made His very blood want to run away  - please Papa (the word is "Abba", used today in Israel, meaning "Daddy") if there is any way, any way, any way - three times He begged: don't abandon Me, Daddy! If there is any other way.  Please, Please, Please.

Until He wrestled Himself into submission. He "set His face like flint" and never wavered - altho the evil one would be whispering, enticing, trying every trick and seduction he could draw on to cause  Him to call legions of angels to free Him.

Even now, He said, Do you not think I could ask the Father to send legions of angels to rescue Me?

A legion was 1000 Roman soldiers.  And He had plural :legions at His disposal.

Even now.

Yet, with the picture of my eternity laid out before Him, He chose to endure.

We were in His heart.

He chose us over freedom from an experience so overwhelmingly painful that His very being shrank from it.

So during this last week of His time on earth, I think He was savoring those He loved, those Who loved Him.  Looking at them, His poor, confused, sheep, bleating on the precipice. And knowing - knowing beyond anything that we can even imagine - that He would still have to chose His answer.  Knowing that He would have to agree in every detail.  Whispers,whispers of safety surrounding Him as the time approached. You don't have to do this, You know.

All You have to do is say no.

And it was really that simple.

It was really all He had to do.

Just say, "no."

"Oh! How He loves you.  Oh! How He loves me.

"Oh! How He loves you and me."

Dark Places

Psalm 143:3-4 "For the enemy has persecuted my soul;
He has crushed my life to the ground;
He has made me dwell in dark places...
Therefore my spirit is overwhelmed within me;
My heart within me is distressed."


That's sure how it feels some days, doesn't it?  


Dealing with CI day after day is wearing on the spirit.  Some days it is hard not to feel abandoned or isolated or discouraged or alone in the dark.  


And, you can be sure, the enemy of our soul is quick to take advantage of it. Innocent remarks by someone will seem sinister or accusatory - we start to get prickly or short-tempered - which, of course, we seek to excuse because we "are having a bad day".  It's all too easy to fall into self-pity or, on the other hand, snap at people "who can't possibly understand what it feels like."


I agree that most folks can't understand what it feels like - but God can.  He chose this path for us, whether we want to admit it or not.  In my case, CFIDS (Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome or ME/Myalgic Encephalitis in the UK) is just beginning to find acceptance and respect.  Many people say to me "Oh, I was soooo tired yesterday I didn't know what to do. I know how you feel."  


No, you don't know how I feel.  The fatigue I have is so deep it in itself is pain - and it doesn't go away after a good night's sleep - because I never get a good night's sleep.  If I'm fortunate I get a 4 hour block somewhere in the night, but mostly I awaken every hour or two.  My brain gets so muddled sometimes, I find myself lost on familiar streets that suddenly are no longer familiar.  My head pounds, feeling as if it exploded, or someone kicked me in the head - sometimes throbbing, sometimes as though my head is in a vise, slowly crushing me. It feels like an iron bar runs just behind my eyes, from temple to temple - and sometimes the sensation is so real I feel like I could reach up and grab it.  And fluorescent lights, which everybody from dentist to doctor has in their office, are guaranteed to ignite a headache in an instant. My muscles ache so deeply it's all I can do to climb the stairs to bed.  My bedroom is a mess because I climb those stairs carrying something and put it down "just for a second" until I'm strong enough to deal with it - and I'm never strong enough.  So layer after layer accumulates, like an archaeological dig!


It's overwhelming sometimes, isn't it? I know some of you deal with problems far more severe than mine - and my heart goes out to you. Many times I feel fortunate to have so little to deal with.


So, where is God in all of this?  


If He is the One Who chose this for each of us, knowing exactly how much we can bear, and not trying us more than we are able (1Cor 13:10) - and He is - where do we find the strength and courage we need to deal with it?


Just 2 Psalms over, in 145:14, God says to us, "The LORD upholds all who fall, and raises up all who are bowed down."  CI is certainly capable of causing us to be bowed down ( and the enemy of our soul is sure to grasp the situation and try to tempt us to fall).  


And again in Ps. 145:17-19  "The LORD is righteous in all His ways, Gracious in all His works.  The LORD is near to all who call upon Him, to all who call upon Him in truth...  He will hear their cry and save them."


So here God is telling us that His way is righteous and His works are gracious - including His choice of paths for us, including CI.  How do I know this?  Because the Word of God tells me that all His ways are righteous, all His ways are gracious.


How many?


All.


And all means "all". Not "some".  Not "all except for the ones I don't like" ( and I really don't like my CI - grin!)


It is not contingent upon my approval of His plans for me.  I, the leaky, cracked, dirty ol' pot cannot say to my Potter "Why have you made me thus?" or, in the colloquial, "Why me?"


God has a plan for our lives.  He has chosen for our plan to include CI - and He knows what He wants to accomplish with it.  CI affects not only us, but the ones who surround us, the doctors who treat us, the family who loves us, the friends who pray with us, the ones who watch us - and don't kid yourself, people watch us all the time to see how we handle adversity. Have you ever thought He might be using your illness to teach others, to do a work in their lives?


And these verses show us how God intends for us to bear it - He will uphold us, raise us up, be near us, hear our cry and save us. He is working in the lives of all who know us, and He is using our CI to do it!  Stop and think for a moment about how your CI has changed the lives of those around you.  I know those around me have learned patience (...ahem) and I have seen them become more generous, more compassionate, more giving - and I know they pray more. In His graciousness, He is blessing others through my path.
Just think about that for a moment.


So if the enemy is persecuting your soul these days, and you find yourself in one of those dark places, remember He is upholding you, and He is near enough to hear your cries and save you.  And always remember that, besides those who surround you on earth, Someone Else is watching you.  


This Someone is not watching to catch you slipping up, to criticize or judge you.  This Someone died in your place, paid for each sin  you have or will ever commit (and He knows them all.) 


When the enemy of your soul taunts God with accusations of His children, perhaps He is saying of you as He said of Job: "Have you considered my servant ______ (insert your name here)"  The CI that so haunts us and rules our days may be the very background upon which we shine for our Master, proving that we do not love Him for what He can give us; proving that we value His gifts less than we value the Giver; proving that even though we do stumble and mess up and fall flat on our faces, we get up, dust ourselves off, and continue on the narrow road for love of Him.


And how glorious that would be - to someday stand before Him and learn that all the while we thought the suffering endless and useless, He was glowing with joy that through the power of the Blood and the Holy Spirit, in His Name we became more than conquerors.


Press on, dear one, press on!