The church in which I was raised was a hymn-only, piano and organ church from my earliest recollection. No one raised a hand. No one clapped a hand. Honestly, that never bothered me. I don't get caught up in fight over music worship styles, because worship is an attitude that comes from my heart... not from the music that is played. If there's one thing I've learned it is that not everyone is as emotionally passionate as I am. Nor should they be. I picture a world overrun by people who get goosebumps during truck commercials, and it scares me to think that some evolutionary error would ever end up in there being 7 billion of "me". It's funny how most of us would probably agree that we love the variety of people in the world, and yet we spend our lives wishing people would be more like us - trying to make them that way.
Over the years, our church has changed musically. More choruses and worship songs have been introduced. Now there is a worship "band" that plays a variety of instruments. This doesn't bother me in the least. After all, it is still my heart that is either at worship or not. No amount of distraction will steal it away if it is settled on God. And any amount of distraction will steal it away if it is not. I have to be honest - with a child whose sensory processing disorder can end us up in a screaming meltdown over a "borrowed" toy in the church pew in .5 second - I am often not as tuned into worship as I should/could be. I am often distracted by our 4 year old wanting to stand up and see over the people in front of us or our 5 year old making car noises or yelling at his sister. I am not a hand-raiser. I never have been. I'm not against it. I just always feel self-conscious about it. I don't want people to think I'm trying to portray some ultra-spirituality. I'm not not used to it. There have been times when I have lifted a hand - when focused, when moved, when really tuned-in to the sacrifice Christ made for me. However, it's usually when I'm alone. Sometimes I am even distracted by hand-raisers at church. I am certain this is the opposite of their intention, but my eyes naturally follow commotion (as do most people's, I think). I find comfort in their openness and envy their natural abandon and vulnerability.
Last week we sat behind my uncle and cousins at church. As I looked down, I noticed that my 9 year old cousin had a pair of work gloves on his hands. You know the kind. They are bright yellow with red cuffs.
Even though I am a firm believer that there are no coincidences, I thought maybe the gloves on the pew that day were coincidental. They may not have been meant to teach me any deeper lesson. As we came home after church, I passed through our laundry room and looked down at the top of the dryer, and this is what I saw:
Why there were even work gloves there I have no idea. I suspect they were there to assure me that I wasn't meant to slough off the lesson I was on the cusp of internalizing. I am fully needy before God. I must acknowledge it and embrace it. I am not supposed to try to get others to fill that need. God alone is able to fill the need that the immensity of Who He is created in the first place. He is love to the unloved. He is companionship to the lonely. He is peace in chaos. He is rest for the weary. He is health to the bones. He is joy in sadness. He is fullness in our emptiness.
Did you ever want more than is earthly possible? Did you ever want to hug your child tighter than safely possible - just because you love him/her so much? Did you ever want to be closer to your spouse than even making love can achieve? There are a few things that my husband does that make me feel inexplicably full inside. He holds me tightly and kisses my forehead so tenderly. I don't know why, but in those all-too-brief moments I feel like I could live a thousands lifetimes in complete contentment. I know you feel it too... the lack that this world has for us. The fact we were created for so much deeper fulfillment than even the greatest earthly love can afford us. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says,
Over the years, our church has changed musically. More choruses and worship songs have been introduced. Now there is a worship "band" that plays a variety of instruments. This doesn't bother me in the least. After all, it is still my heart that is either at worship or not. No amount of distraction will steal it away if it is settled on God. And any amount of distraction will steal it away if it is not. I have to be honest - with a child whose sensory processing disorder can end us up in a screaming meltdown over a "borrowed" toy in the church pew in .5 second - I am often not as tuned into worship as I should/could be. I am often distracted by our 4 year old wanting to stand up and see over the people in front of us or our 5 year old making car noises or yelling at his sister. I am not a hand-raiser. I never have been. I'm not against it. I just always feel self-conscious about it. I don't want people to think I'm trying to portray some ultra-spirituality. I'm not not used to it. There have been times when I have lifted a hand - when focused, when moved, when really tuned-in to the sacrifice Christ made for me. However, it's usually when I'm alone. Sometimes I am even distracted by hand-raisers at church. I am certain this is the opposite of their intention, but my eyes naturally follow commotion (as do most people's, I think). I find comfort in their openness and envy their natural abandon and vulnerability.
Last week we sat behind my uncle and cousins at church. As I looked down, I noticed that my 9 year old cousin had a pair of work gloves on his hands. You know the kind. They are bright yellow with red cuffs.
He took them off and set them on the pew behind him during the singing, and I looked down at them. I don't know if I'm the only weird person who does things like this, but I found myself trying to make my hands fit them from where I was standing - not touching them - just forming my hands into their shape. I looked down at my hands and noticed that they were palms up and fully open - fingers spread gently apart and curved slightly toward me.
I immediately felt self-conscious... as though my intentions might be mistaken. People might think I was opening my hands in worship. Self-consciously I closed them and put them back down to my sides. Immediately I felt overwhelmed with, "Why?" Why what? "Why not open your hands? Are you afraid people might think you need something?" What does that have to do with anything? Need something? "You are in need. When you open your hands, you acknowledge it."
After all, open hands are an international sign of neediness. Looking for hand-out? Looking for a hand-up? In the self-sufficient way I like to be, those things make me feel messed up inside. I don't want to need. I'm in one of the neediest places in my life I can ever remember. In the past 8 months I've had severe back disc problems and a broken leg. I've needed help from paramedics, doctors, specialists, physical therapists, my family, and even strangers sometimes. When a person is in crisis, he or she doesn't often have time to contemplate or grieve loss until it's getting over. My health is not great, but it's much better than it has been. I am able to walk without assistance on normal surfaces. I can go up and down stairs. I can't lift things of any significant weight, but I can do basic household chores. I have gone from self-sufficiency, to crisis, to grief in a relatively short period of time. I don't know if it's my age, my health condition, or something else, but I've begun to contemplate life differently. I watch a person do something - bungee jumping, back flipping, auditioning for Survivor, and I say to myself (and sometimes to people around me), "I'll never do that." My husband likes to ask, "Did you ever even want to do that?" The answer is usually with a sigh and a groan, "No, but now I know I never will." As a perpetually busy person, my physical therapist has had a difficult time keeping me down... which is how I ended up with a broken leg in the first place. He tells me, "Take it easy. Stop doing things." When I would have to call off a session for a sore back he would add, "Don't lift any furniture!" Why would he assume... well, he knows.
I got another cortisone epidural yesterday. These have become my only way of postponing the next disc herniation that will end up in another hospitalization and more weeks in bed. They are also becoming a monthly need. After my epidural I drove home to change for my husband's work Christmas party. He said, "Are you sure you want to go?" Between my insistence on high heels, the hole in my back, and the fact I had driven all over creation all day, he (always sensible - it's a good thing one of us is) thought it might be a questionable activity.
I regretted it from before we even got out of the car. My leg had started to swell to the point of numbness, and between that and the pain shooting down my back and into that same leg, I was ready to go home before we walked in the door. I have started to acknowledge that our lives will probably always be hampered by my back and leg. Did it stop me from going sledding with Mark and the little ones and sliding down the ice-covered driveway in boots 2 sizes too big with laces undone to get the mail this morning? No. I'm still a barefoot 8-year-old girl jumping out of a tree on the inside.
I hate to ask for help. I can't lift my Crockpot out of the bottom cupboard anymore. Did I mention how much I hate asking for help? Yet I stood there in church and closed my hands.
My mom once told me that God can't fill hands that are already full. At the time, my heart and hands were filled with what I wanted... what I thought I needed. Basically - they were full of discontentment. I am struggling once again with contentment. This time it is discontentment with my physical limitations. Yet I stood there in church and closed my hands.
Even though I am a firm believer that there are no coincidences, I thought maybe the gloves on the pew that day were coincidental. They may not have been meant to teach me any deeper lesson. As we came home after church, I passed through our laundry room and looked down at the top of the dryer, and this is what I saw:
Why there were even work gloves there I have no idea. I suspect they were there to assure me that I wasn't meant to slough off the lesson I was on the cusp of internalizing. I am fully needy before God. I must acknowledge it and embrace it. I am not supposed to try to get others to fill that need. God alone is able to fill the need that the immensity of Who He is created in the first place. He is love to the unloved. He is companionship to the lonely. He is peace in chaos. He is rest for the weary. He is health to the bones. He is joy in sadness. He is fullness in our emptiness.
Did you ever want more than is earthly possible? Did you ever want to hug your child tighter than safely possible - just because you love him/her so much? Did you ever want to be closer to your spouse than even making love can achieve? There are a few things that my husband does that make me feel inexplicably full inside. He holds me tightly and kisses my forehead so tenderly. I don't know why, but in those all-too-brief moments I feel like I could live a thousands lifetimes in complete contentment. I know you feel it too... the lack that this world has for us. The fact we were created for so much deeper fulfillment than even the greatest earthly love can afford us. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says,
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My closed hands tell a deeper story about me... about my heart. Warm hands - warm heart. Closed hands - closed heart. Open hands - open heart. God longs to fill the hearts and hands of those who are willing to open them - to acknowledge their deep need. Whatever those needs may be - He has all assets as His disposal.
I close with a portion of the book Epic by John Eldredge,
Unless our present life is built on something eternal, it is indeed a tragedy. That which our hearts long for is not a longing that is fulfilled upon death but one that can start to be fulfilled at any time in our present. If we acknowledge that our open, empty hands need filled by God alone, then our days can take on new meaning, fresh perspective, and fulfillment that is all-encompassing. Do we look forward to eternity? With all our hearts - as a bride looks forward to wedding a beloved groom, but courtship is here and now.
I close with a portion of the book Epic by John Eldredge,
"And they lived happily ever after. Stop for just a moment, and let it be true. They lived happily ever after.
These may be the most beautiful and haunting words in the entire library of mankind. Why does the end of a great story leave us with a lump in our throats and an ache in our hearts? If we haven't become entirely cynical, some of the best endings can even bring us to tears.
Because God has set eternity in our hearts. Every story we tell is our attempt to put into words and images what God has written there, on our hearts. Think of the stories that you love. Remember how they end.
This is written on the human heart, this longing for happily ever after.
You see, every story has an ending. Every story. Including yours. Have you ever faced this? Even if you do manage to find a little taste of Eden in this life, even if you are one of the fortunate souls who find some love and happiness in the world, you cannot hang on to it. You know this. Your health cannot hold out forever. Age will conquer you. One by one your friends and loved ones will slip from your hand. Your work will remain unfinished. Your time on this stage will come to an end. Like every other person gone before you, you will breathe your last breath.
And then what? Is that the end of the Story?
If that is the end, this Story is a tragedy. Macbeth was right. Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Sooner or later, life will break your heart. Or rather, death will break your heart. Perhaps you have to lose someone you love to be shaken from denial. The final enemy is death. It will come. Is there no way out? Do we have a future?"
