The Hermitage
May 25, 2019
Ric Gordon sings a song about his “Old Fuzzy Chair in the Corner” where he sits and meditates. Mine is my rocking lawn chair on the veranda where I can watch the birds and listen to the wind in the trees playing gentle background music for their songs.
In the past couple of weeks I’ve had a lot of time to think. I started to say ‘meditate.’ But I was so tired I couldn’t even focus long enough to put thoughts together. However in this past week I began to pull pieces into what I hope is a coherent thought...or thoughts, since it really is multiple meditations blended together.
I remember the “glory” days at Resurrections when I was blessed to see, and participate, in every healing miracle in the Bible except someone being raised from the dead. And I’ve heard stories from credible sources who have seen even that.
My question is, why has it stopped? I understand there’s a physician in Cincinnati who is having healing services with all the manifestations we used to see. But that’s such an isolated instance.
And, with all my prayers why hasn’t my good friend been healed? And why haven’t I been healed as I face another illness?
I realize these are age old questions, often answered with glib platitudes. And I faced them even in the height of our years of healings. “Why was he/she healed and I wasn’t.”
I think my faith in His healing power is as strong as ever, but I find myself wondering if I’m like the man at the pool of Bethsada. Jesus’ question is a simple phrase: “Do you want to be healed.”
At first glance the instant answer is “Yes! Of course!” But stop and think. He’d been lying beside the pool for thirty-eight years. His first answer is an excuse. “I have no one to help me.” “Someone gets to the pool before me.”
After thirty-eight years I think it’s appropriate to ask, “Do you really want to be healed?”
And so I ask myself the same question. But I get a mixed answer. Deep down is there a part of me that doesn’t really want a miraculous healing? The real answer that swells in my heart is hard to put into words. How do you express an amalgam of total faith and doubt in simple words?
I believe with all my heart in His healing power, His love and His mercy. Every morning I read my psalm (143:8) and it’s from the heart. And yet...
Now throw into the mix my confusion about my “new” ministry of presence--poustinia in the marketplace. I was so certain I had heard that affirmed in so many ways...but all of them involved travel. The RV is out of the question. I’ve had to cancel my first airline trip.
And, quite honestly, I can’t envision the ministry in any other form.
I’ve had plenty of time to explore other options...beginning my coaching ministry again, volunteering to do marriage counseling for the diocesan clergy, volunteering at some charity. But nothing strikes a chord.
So I’m back at where I began so many months and journeys ago. How do I say, “Here am I, Lord. Send me.” when I can’t muster enough energy and focus to write even a simple meditation, much less go to the ends of the earth for Him.
So, it looks like my scripture for the present is “Be still, my heart.” And to put my hope in the scripture being fulfilled...“Those who wait upon the Lord….”
On a positive note, I’m so glad the canon of scripture includes the Book of Job. Hence the title of this meditation. The message that resonates in my soul and spirit is, “Yea though He should slay me, yet shall I believe.”
And I’m overwhelmingly thankful as I contrast my own plight to that of Job.
I haven’t lost everything. In fact I’m incredibly blessed.
I don’t have “friends” encouraging me to “curse God and die.” Instead they are unbelievably supportive and encouraging, bouying my spirits at every turn and obstacle.
And so I come to you, my dear reader. If you’ve made it this far in my ramblings I bless you with every fibre of my being. You are one of my “multitude of saints” with whom God surrounds me and for whom I’m unbelievably thankful.
Till then…
Thanks for journeying with me
