when the Healer shows.

Posted on February 10, 2010

5


I wasn’t expecting it to hurt. I was in the shower when God told me. I knew we were about to go through one of the toughest things we experienced in our marriage.  And I was right. Well, God was right. Russ came home and said the words I knew he was going to say.

But I wasn’t expecting  pain. You know the type  – the fall on your knees, gut-wrenching-fighting-for-breath pain.  I fell into Christ’s arms; it was the only safe place I knew. I was angry. I was hurt. But I knew Abba provided protection – so I clung to Him.

The next few weeks proved hard. Every day I fought the lie we were doing this alone. Almost immediately Christ began to surround us with incredible people who turned into incredible friends. People who pray for us. Fight for us. Live life with us. Once the road evened out and we were able to wipe the tears from our eyes, we were able to look around and notice one thing: in our moment of weakness and pain, Christ picked us up and carried us to where we needed to be the whole time.

Peace was immediate, although the pain was still there. Scars have a way of ripping open at unexpected moments, and so we still fought those lies of hurt and rejection. And then we went to Verge.

I knew the past weeks had been healing, but it wasn’t over. I still fought bitterness, still prayed for breakthrough. Those weeks leading to Verge I felt Christ like I never experienced before: close to the touch, tangled in my own thoughts, present in my moment of pain.  But I knew I was holding back. I went to the conference, expecting big things for the city, not anticipating my own moment of clarity.

And then one afternoon, in the midst of 2000 other believers singing His praise, my Healer showed.

“Jesus I love you! I love you Jesus!!” the cry came from the back of the room, the voice desperate for a touch from the One in our midst.  Up until this moment, my heart refused to let go. This plea pierces through any of my pride and I collapse against Russ. For the next ten minutes, the sweet names of our Savior fall around me: Elohim. Jehovah Jireh. Protector.

My Healer.

The tears fell and I sank into my chair – speechless and unable to join with the others in worship. Never before had I experienced a literal shaking of my soul. My heart was finally finding rest in His truth. I sat there soaking in His presence, breathing deep of His absolute beauty.

He didn’t have to show. He didn’t have to prove to me His love and absolute joy in my pursuit of intimacy.

But he did.

I won’t ever be the same.

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