Two weeks out and I’m hoping the anchors will hold. The anchors holding my tendon attached to my shoulder, tethering me to six weeks of living one-handed. Not driving, struggling to put on a shirt, the wife helping to button pants.. Massive tear they said. Small rips are more common. And despite the wonders of how the shoulder works, with the rotator cuff and all it seems God should have built in an easier repair mechanism. Like when bones break. Cast them in plaster of Paris and they grow back. Rotator cuff involves attaching tendon to bone. A slower slipperier process.
When the refrigerator went out this week, I could only help
my wife empty it one or two small items at a time. Uph. Life is making it clear
that I believe my worth is predicated on how much I’m doing; let me help you
with that, let me build that, plant that, carry that. When Jacob wrestled with
God, he was doing something at least. It’s the inactive quiet I’m finding
difficult.
There are over 700 verses where God tells us to be still.
The most well-known perhaps, “Be still and know that I am God.” A friend who
found Jesus in her teens told me she’d just come to the end of her rope, “You
go through rough things and you realize there’s nowhere else to go."
“Trust Him for His grace, behind a frowning providence, He
hides a smiling face.” We know this in our bones, God does His deepest work in
those places our strength can’t reach. Difficult to be still though, to rest in
Gods’ sovereign sufficiency. A drowning man thrashes about violently.
I’m not finding it easy relaxing at home, putting plans on
hold and giving up control. A lazy river ride is relaxing initially; but what
if you couldn’t get off? I went walking,
to get out of the house, break the monotony. A woman pulled up next to me and
shouted (I’m wearing a sling), “I had that done 2 years ago. Keep at it! It’s
worth it!” I’m thankful for surprises, for Uber and my wife’s patience. I’m
working on letting go. Getting glimpses of that smiling face as I ‘surrender to
divine providence.” My anchor holds within the veil.
Photo by Art
Institute of Chicago on Unsplash
