Sent out in Twos and Threes

The devotion in my mailbox this morning:

October 27, 2018 

Sometimes we fall prey to worry, frustration, anxiety or sheer exhaustion, and our hearts become heavy.  What’s needed is plenty of rest, a large dose of perspective, and God’s healing touch, but not necessarily in that order.

I remember one of my teachers telling us about our "triune nature"--that we are body, soul and spirit. And that it is important that all three stay healthy and well-nourished and protected...how if one of our triune elements becomes weak, the other two can pick up the slack for only a short time before they start faltering as well. And if two are weak, well then, the third has little chance of carrying all three for very long.

My dad, who is 93 this year, is incredibly healthy, even-keeled and clear-minded, deeply compassionate, a brilliant writer of poetry, a true romantic, quietly humble and filled with the faith of a favored and dearly loved child.  But this past weekend, he awoke from an afternoon nap with a spasming pain by his spine that persisted despite massage, warm showers and NSAIDs. As his pain persisted, the seeds of uncertainty began to grow and he started to worry that something terrible might be happening inside of him. As his anxiety began to build, the pain magnified, radiating through his flank to the front of his abdomen, suddenly and effectively sucking away any hope that he had merely "fallen asleep in the wrong position," furthering his growing desperation and convincing him that the very worst version of his impending demise was becoming reality. As my sister Skyped with me, I found myself literally watching my dad fold into himself--he had become unable to think outside of his pain, unable to imagine a future beyond his current misery, unwilling to pray for something he thought was beyond his asking. In the background of my computer screen, I could see him curled up in a fetal position...and I could sense more than his discomfort. I could sense his fear...an intense fear that more than just overtook his pain; it engulfed his mind and had already quenched his spirit.

By the end of his time in the ER, after all of the cardiac tests, CT and flow scans of every major organ and vessel in his abdomen and chest came back normal (and probably better than mine would have been!), after a nice dose of Toradol granted him the best rest he'd had in months, and after the reassurance that no, we don't have a diagnosis but we DO know you aren't departing this world any time soon...he finally began to relax and think straight again. Perspectives were readjusted, futures regained, hope (and sound-mindedness) were restored...and the giddiness in my dad's voice the next morning made me truly wonder what else he might have received through that iv.

As I mulled over the unfolding of last weekend's events, I was struck by the effectiveness of physical illness to take us out of the soundness of our minds...placing lead weights of despair and doubt on our hearts, directing our mindfulness away from the light and hope in our spirit and effectively encasing our souls in the darkness of fear and doubt.  I was reminded how incredibly physical beings we are--even when we think we are strong in our spirit and freed from bondage in our souls. How something like a teeny paper cut can still bring me to my knees and make me forget everything but myself in that moment.

And then I understood once again why God sends us out into this world in two and threes. I know that my dad was surrounded by concerned family and friends who could cover for him, serve him, reassure him that they were there by his side when he found himself knowing only the singularity and disconnectedness of his fear. I know that we had extremely competent medical staff members, diligently searching for answers, attending to his acute needs, knowing they were ready and able if needed to move quickly and accurately when he was unable to grasp anything beyond the paralyzing realm of his pain. But even more importantly, I know that we had powerful prayer warriors lifting my dad up into the throne room, petitioning for the miracles and the covering that he found himself unable to even imagine, much less ask for.

When we willingly walk with each other no matter what the calling of the ministry of the moment--be it for physical healing, soul strengthening, or spirit defining--we allow ourselves to partner with the Lord to protect, nourish, strengthen and heal our triune nature. He sends us HIMSELF in each other to help us heal on whatever level needs healing, to help us give rest to the overburdened, to regain Truth perspective...and allow us to remember who we are in God and in each other.

What an incredible gift to be given another to walk alongside.  I am realizing now that this is just another way that God teaches us to Trust in His provision--the giving of Himself through each other.