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When the Body Attacks Itself
I still remember the first time I said it out loud: “Lord, my body is trying to kill me.”
It had been one of those days with joints on fire, muscles shaking, and fatigue so heavy I felt like I was wading through molasses. Meanwhile, my immune system was acting like an overzealous security guard, tackling anything that moved, including innocent bystanders like my thyroid and joints.
In my mind, my body had become the enemy.
And then there was that verse: “I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.” (Psalm 139:14)
I’ll be honest. At that moment, I really struggled with that verse.
“Fearfully and wonderfully made?” I grumbled. “Lord, this feels more like fearfully and wonderfully malfunctioning.”
For those of us with autoimmune disease or chronic illness, there’s a special kind of heartbreak in feeling like your own body has betrayed you.
Resisting the Dark Side
Okay, I'll admit it. I'm a bit of a Star Wars nerd.
Not a full costume at the midnight premiere level, but enough to know that today, May the 4th, the galaxy far, far away shows up in every social media feed, coffee shop chalkboard, and text message chain on the planet. "May the fourth be with you." Ha, ha! It gets me every time!
But behind all the puns, the Yoda memes, and the lightsaber sound effects, there's a concept in Star Wars that ought to make every Christian sit up a little straighter in their seat. In George Lucas's world, the greatest danger a Jedi faces isn't the enemy in front of him. It's the Dark Side within him. And the gateway to that darkness? Anger. Fear. Aggression.
Hmm. That sounds awfully familiar, doesn't it?
Because if I flip over to my Bible, specifically to Galatians 5, I find a list that reads a lot like a Dark Side recruitment brochure:
Carrying Others’ Burdens Without Being Crushed
You know the feeling. Your phone rings, and even before you answer, your shoulders tense up. Somebody needs something…again. And you love them. You really do. But somewhere between the third crisis this week and the fact that you haven't slept well in days, you catch yourself wondering if maybe you're just done with it all. And then you feel guilty for thinking it.
If that's you today, friend, pull up a chair. We need to talk.
Here's the thing nobody tells you when you sign up for loving people well: compassion, if you're not careful, can crush you. Not because something is wrong with you, but because you are human, with a finite supply of strength, emotional bandwidth, and, let's be honest, patience. You were never designed to carry the weight of the world. That job was already taken.
Are You Really Trusting Christ?
Throughout our years of hiking, Jason and I have encountered some...well, let's just say... Interesting river and ravine crossings. I remember standing at the edge of a narrow rope bridge one day, staring at the yawning drop beneath it and wondering who in their right mind thought that was a good idea. I could see the bridge. I knew it was there. I could even agree that it was technically "a way" across that great divide, but my knuckles were white on the railing, and my feet were not cooperating. I believed in the bridge, but I didn't yet trust it, at least not enough to march my nervous self right out to the middle of it.
The Step That Matters
That's the difference we often gloss over when we tell people, "Just believe in Jesus, and you'll be saved."
God Uses Shabby Rabbits and Mute Swans
This morning, my mind wandered, which honestly isn't unusual. But this time, it wandered somewhere worth following.
I was thinking about three stories I've loved since childhood: The Ugly Duckling, The Velveteen Rabbit, and The Trumpet of the Swan. Here are three characters who had absolutely no business being the hero of anyone's story, or so the world around them thought. A gangly gray bird that didn't look like anyone else. A scruffy stuffed rabbit who was losing his button eyes and had the stuffing loved right out of him. A trumpeter swan named Louis, who couldn't make a sound and was silent in a world that communicated entirely through song.
It didn't take long to notice the thread running through all three stories. Each one of these characters was, by all outward appearances, broken. Unfit. The square peg in the round hole.