I must be honest, I need to be writing more. Writing does something for me. The Lord wove the need to write deeply within my veins... and I must abide. My husband reminded me that I love to blog. He's a keeper.
I've been toying with so many thoughts about being contained in an earthly body. It literally boggles my mind when I try to imagine what it'd be like to be free. My earthliness, my humanity, feels like a ball and chain. I can't escape from feeling pain, from feeling heartache, and disappointment. And it hurts-- another experience I cannot get away from.
While some may read this and feel alarmed and worry if I should be on suicide watch, have no fear. That's the farthest thing from my mind. I've merely struck a new chord, a new sound I never heard.
We are all so contained.
I struggle sometimes to see how this is a good thing. How our bodies are still His craftsmanship. How our humanity is still capable of holiness to the Lord.
We're subject to suffering in our humanity. We forget things. We burn our fingers while cooking dinner. We cry when we're overwhelmed. We hear words that pierce deeper than a sword. We slip and fall on black ice. Ugh... we are soooo human. To wuote that insurance commercial, It's really "Amazing we've made it this far."
I've been reminded this week of the quote "Desiderio Domini," which means "I dearly long to be with my Lord." It's supposedly a quote from Peter after Jesus ascended back into heaven. Peter would cry often, and when asked a reason for his tears, he would resond, "Desiderio Domini."
His heart would ache to escape this earthly bondage. Oh, to be with the Lord...
Now, I have never walked beside Jesus, of course. But I, at times, feel the same desperation. Ugh, to be with the Lord, out of this world. I wouldn't have to deal with the uncertainty, the frustration, the confusion, the fatigue... how deeply I long to be away with the Lord.
I fail to remember the beauty of the life that we have in our earthly costumes. We play the characters of the Forgiven, and the Saved, and the Loved. A Divine scene that could never be memorized and reduplicated. While I long for the curtain to close, to have a final bow, I am astounded at the truth... this earthly garment of life is a gift. The suffering we endure, be it forgetfulness, or confusion, or physical or emotional pain, is not a curse. It is a reminder of the promise that we are ever to depend on the Lord. He is WITH us. Just because he is no longer a child in a manger does not mean he is no longer Emmanuel. He is WITH us. In this human confinement, we are free even now in Him.
It brings me to tears... He knit me together in my mother's womb, knowing full well the difficulty that would come with the world. He knew what he would present to me... the challenges life entails. But He also had a promise already in place for me. There would be a day, where there is no more tears, or sorrow... no more forgetting silly things. No more tiredness.
And in this earthly body, I can taste the sweetness of a coconut (my favorite thing), and the refreshment of water after an intense workout. I can feel how wonderful it feels to have a hot shower when I've been out all day in sub zero temperatures. I can laugh and feel revived when I hear my husband's goofy jokes. I can smile and look into the mirror and know full well, that while I am in this human body, I am made in His image, and I am fearfully and wonderfully His.
I feel the separation sometimes... my spirit is confined within my flesh.
But there's more. And here's where I lose it...
In Christ, there is no separation. There is no bondage. There is no distance. I am ONE with the Spirit of the living God... even here, while I am on earth.
And that makes this delicate dance of hating my humanity, and loving my Maker and all He's made.... possible.
