I grew up in a generation that used “Der Fred” when something seemed really dumb or obvious – but I don’t think it’s allowed to say “der Fred” to Jesus.
I was thinking this morning about the dude who had been sick for 38 years and Jesus asks him “Do you want to get well?”
If it was anyone else doing the asking… I’d be smacking my forehead, but because it’s Him, I’m metaphorically scratching it instead.
What was He getting at?
Why would anyone sick NOT want to be made well?
And then my axis tipped a bit.
I have some things I’ve been talking to God about for a long periods of time. Yes, a few things that need healing.
But do I want to be healed?
On the surface, yes, but when the angel stirs the waters I get scared and back away.
Why would I NOT want to be healed?
Why might YOU not want to be healed?
All of us have broken bits. Some different, some the same. And the longer we have some of them, the more they become part of our identity… the way we’ve covered and coped… the way we know. And the thought of NOT knowing can be terrifying. The thought of groping around a changed room in the dark not knowing where the bits that hurt have been shifted, can seem worse than leaving it the way it is.
And if our broken bits relate to sin, the fact is that sin usually has some measure of perceived benefit or immediate pleasure. And we like it. Our like of it is what GOT us IN the pickle and what KEEPS us in the pickle. We can dodge around this mulberry bush for whole lifetimes.
Desire is an extremely efficient generator of handy, limitless justifications.
But pain… why do we hold on to pain?
Haven’t you experienced not wanting to fully lay down a hurt against you? I have. We nurse those suckers… as if fully healing from a pain might mean it didn’t matter… no, it will always matter if we learn and grow and release… but we can let those things matter too much and they stunt and deform our growth.
And pride… its like foot binding to the soul…
I mean really – we were RIGHT!
Or worse… what if we were wrong?
I’ve come to love the fact that God’s people are messy. Like when a fellow whose son is about to be healed cries out “I do believe! Help my unbelief!” What a scramble. Just like me.
Once or twice I’ve had a sense of being at the edge of a spiritual cliff. Once I went willingly… once I was shoved… and both times ended the same way… both times I knew I’d been caught even as I went into free-fall, and that I’d been set down so gently I didn’t even know when the landing took place.
So it seems I may not have always truly wanted the healing I said I did… I’m asking Him to help me want it for real… and then maybe…
… we’ll see what happens next!