I Want To Be Holy, Too. (Part One)

There is a certain Christian woman, who has an incredible blog, that I follow daily.   And for ME to follow anything DAILY, is pretty close to a miracle.  

It's the way that she writes, expresses herself, and meshes her life into black and white type, that continually draws me to her.   And it's not as much being drawn to her as it is being drawn to the Holy Spirit through her.      

As I  ''tune in daily''  for whatever awaits me, and after I soak Him in through her words, I come away both blessed and---troubled.   Yes, 'troubled' is a good word here.  

It reminds me of the Pool of Siloam in the Bible where the angel of the Lord would come once a year to stir--to trouble--the waters of the pool for healing.   (John 5:1-4)

 

The Lord through her 'troubles' me.   He stirs up the deep waters within me.  The waters belong to Him and are the waters that are meant for my healing.   

And just like the story in John 5:7,

I find myself in need of someone to lower me into the waters, for I, too, am crippled and cannot get into the waters without help.

But another part of this is that sometimes, no, most times, I drag my crippled self away from the waters when they are being troubled, because...I don't want the troubling to trouble me.   

It hurts to move away and it hurts to move towards.   It just hurts.   I hurt.   And, I just don't know if I can do what I need to do to fix the hurt.

"Trust Jesus!", my Christian friends say.   They mean it in the most tender way.  

But their words have to force their way through my pain, which distorts and mangles the wavelength on which the words ride, and by the time it reaches me, it just makes me angry. 

No, it stirs the anger that is already there, 

and 

I just want to

hit something, or someone.

"Well, duh?!  Yeah, 'Trust Jesus', ya think?  What do you think I'm TRYING TO DO HERE?!!", my mind SCREAMS out through one of the smiles I keep in my pocket for such times as these.

And I think,  "Oh God!  Just shut them up!!!"

And then I think, as I walk away from them in my mind, "I want to be Holy, too.   Just like that sister who blogs such wonderful things everyday.   Just like Sister Blogger."

But that, THAT, takes a willingness to be troubled.   
And I know it.   
I know it full well.

I've been here too many times before and....I know.

I KNOW.  

And I know that I cannot run away or scoot away or turn away or scrunch my eyes up tight and pretend that I'm not here!   There is no...away.  There is only...to.   Towards.   Face it.   Face up to it.   Face...down.    

It's not that my dear Sister Blogger is oh, so holy.   She just allows herself to be placed into the troubled waters of her soul, of her deep places, so that the Lord is then able to first heal, and then to draw out of those deep places within her, the sweetest waters and give them to others to quench their thirst.

This used to be me.

I know this place.  This place of The Troubling, for I have lived my life here once before.   Before, in that other life.  That life as co-pastor with my husband.  Co-leader, co-feeder of the Lord's flock, His dear lambs.   Sister-Pastor.  That was me.

In that former life, I was so tender before the Lord, so pliable and malleable, that I LIVED in those troubled waters because I didn't want to miss an opportunity to be healed so that I might bring that healing to others.  

 

Dear God.   What has happened to me?  

I was Holy... 

I want to be Holy (again), too.

(end of part One)