Carrying people's rejection around inside of you will make you sick.
That dreaded blinking curser. Two days after my last blog post I had a surgery that will prove to change my life forever.
I believe it is always our choice what we speak about and therefore keep alive by our words. This is why you will never hear me utter an untoward word about my body ever again. It's the tent my God has given me. Am I grateful enough yet? Never enough.
What are you carrying around inside of you? No one can see the mountains that each of us is hiking, bloodied and bruised, crawling on our hands and knees, because that mountain is inside us. No one can quantify, validate, or sanctify your process and breathe the hope into you that you are just where you need to be, just where the Lord has you. Except for him.
To the many others out there who have stumped the doctors time and time over, we carry around a unique and often invisible oceans worth weight, never to be compared with another. Yet the goodness and newness of Gods mercies wash over my soul like sweet morning dew, draining the oceans depth.
So sure, I have a crooked smile now. Sure, I can feel every accident that has lead to years of the wrong responses firing in these strange nerves. But no one sees these mountains. No one lives in this same tent. No one can ever know what you're climbing and how to help you along.
Except for Christ. He climbed the ultimate mountain, bloodied and bruised, isolated and mocked, just to be with you and me. Could anyone truly see the mountain he carried inside of him?
So grateful for how he calls us to not give up on each other just because we can't see what he can see. Maybe no one knows what you feel in those most intimate places alone with God, but he wants us to learn how to relate to others better in the process of having our own battle.
Maybe that's what grace is all about, anyway. Swiping your mountain to the sea as you reach into someone else's story. Because that's where you find your common union.
