Writings of a Beholder 🌿 2.3.23

Inviting God into our vulnerability

Feb 3

Inviting God Into Our Vulnerability

It’s been one of those weeks where I’m reminded of how human I am.

What began earlier in the week as a stomach bug, quickly turned into a full-fledged autoimmune flareup. A very painful, draining, frustrating flare-up. I was immediately discouraged because I’ve spent years trying to heal my body from the inside out. I changed the way I ate by cutting out gluten and dairy and have chosen to live by an anti-inflammatory diet.

My body grew stronger with each year, responding well to the changes I was making nutritionally and physically. More rest, less stress, and a slower pace.

But January came in hotter than I expected it to when I decided to go to counseling for the first time by myself to unpack some trauma from my past that has laid dormant for nearly a decade.

I had no idea just how traumatic it had been for my body, too, to hold it in for so long. Because while I’d like to blame the stomach bug for this autoimmune flare-up, I can’t — at least, not totally. The virus was just the detonator that set off the bomb of what had been building up emotionally inside me for years.

Now, I’m learning to release it, and my body feels it just as severely as my heart and mind do.

There’s a reconnecting that’s happening between my body, heart, and mind. And while I’d like to continue living at the pace I normally do, this week has taught me that sometimes listening to my body means changing course.

And changing course has to begin with acknowledging my need — acknowledging my humanity.

As an enneagram 8, that’s an uncomfortable thing for me to do, to admit my weakness and my need. To let go of control and simply be and choose to rest. But if I’m to know the Lord as my God and my Good Shepherd, then I have to look down and see my need for Him.

I’m journeying through Summer Joy Gross’ 21-day Lectio Divina practice where we’re reading small tidbits of the book of John as we make room to seek the Lord together in the month of February.

This morning’s Lectio Divina passage was John 2:1-5, where Jesus has just arrived at the wedding in Cana with His disciples. His mother, Mary, quickly comes to Him telling Him that the wine has run out, which was a scandalous thing at a Jewish wedding celebration back in the day. Here’s the passage for context:

“On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”
“Woman,why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”
His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” (NIV)

What stood out to me the most from this small passage was that Mary went to Jesus.

Jesus’ own mother recognized her need for her Lord — her son, yes, but also the Son of God. She knew deep in her heart of hearts that He was the only One who had the power to fulfill her need; to turn water into wine.

As I sat quietly reading this passage this morning, I realized that I hadn’t gone to Jesus with my physical pain. I had walled off my illness, keeping it to myself, and controlling the outcome as best I could. I chose not to behold Him in my sickness — in the pain that my body held.

I chose not to invite Him into my humanity, my broken body.

To know Jesus as Shepherd, I must first acknowledge my need for Him and then invite Him into that painful, vulnerable place with me. And even if the pain persists and my body doesn’t heal the way I want it to, I can still rest in knowing that He is with me in the pain and in control of the outcome because He knows what it’s like to have His own body broken.

He knows what it’s like to face the stark reality of His own humanity.

Vulnerability has a way of opening us up and making us raw and tender to the touch. And we have a choice whether or not to invite The Good Shepherd into that vulnerability or to keep Him at bay while we struggle to stay above water all by ourselves.

As someone who has been treading water all week, I think it’s time to wave my white flag in surrender and let myself be human — to let my body be tired and achy and in pain. And to rest in the Shepherd’s more than able hands.

I am not invincible, and that’s ok. Because my humanity makes room for more of God’s glory to come alive within me.

One of the practices I’ve adopted this week as I slowly make my way to recovery is borrowing blessings and prayers from other writers and faith pilgrims. My favorite book of blessings and poems right now is KJ Ramsey’s new book, The Book of Common Courage. I’d like to leave you with a prayer of hers that I keep returning to again and again to remind myself that God’s strength flourishes in my weakness — in my humanness.

“Hungry Son,
The Father called you Beloved
and then the Spirit
led you like a lamb
out into the scorching sun
where you
chose trust
in your Father
over proving
your own power.
Lead us to landscapes
we would not choose
to feed us with trust
we cannot lose.
Becuase for far too long
we’ve been fed sugar
by shepherds on stages
in words that say fame
and power
and the removal of pain
are the proof
of bearing your Name.
But your sonship reveals
what no stage can show:
it is into vulnerability
that you choose
to go.
Amen.

Maybe the way forward is through and not around our pain. Maybe the anecdote for our weary, aching bodies and souls is always believing that Jesus enters into the painful mess with us. And that His presence is enough.

Maybe it’s believing that we serve a God who is not unfamiliar with our suffering but knows it well enough to scream and cuss and cry with us.

For us, always for us.

I pray that when you are forced to face the reality of your own humanity — your own broken heart and broken body — that you would remember you have a Good Shepherd Who comes to you again and again. Not because He has to, but because He chooses to.

Because He Loves you, He enters into the pain with you.

Peace be with you,

celia

A breath prayer for your weekend

breathe in:

Jesus.

breath out:

I need You.

*if you’d like to learn more about the practice of breath prayer, check out this blog post I wrote titled, How to Use Breath Prayer.

Resources & fun things to pick up

Sacred Spaces is officially off and running! The first Christian spiritual practice was emailed out on Wednesday and we are covering The Daily Examen for the month of February. You are still welcome to join us here: Sacred Spaces with Celia

If you’d like to join Summer Joy Gross’ 21 Days of John, you can sign up here: 21 Days of John (Lectio Divina Challenge)

Perhaps you need to adopt the practice of borrowed words and prayers as well. In December, I wrote a Liturgy for Unnamed Ache & Grief. Maybe it will serve your soul well today: A Liturgy for Unnamed Ache & Grief

I thoroughly enjoyed this article written by Lahni Blair this week over on Substack. She writes about The Chronicles of Narnia, bravery, and Light. You will be enchanted by the end of it — and be sure to subscribe while you’re there: End of Winter

My friend and fellow writer, Kari Bartkus, is offering an 8-week journaling course called Journal Gently designed to help you experience God’s presence in the midst of grief. I went through the 8-week writing program myself, and it was incredibly healing and life-giving. Check it out here: Journal Gently

Grab some breath prayer cards, a journal, and other contemplative resources from my Etsy shop: The Beholding Co.

Grab a copy of my Bible study, You Are Beloved: a 21-day study on how to root your identity in the love of God, over on Amazon.

An invitation to pause & reflect

A regular practice of reflection helps us recognize what’s going on beneath the surface of our souls so we can name it in the Lord’s presence. Because as we learn to name what we feel, what we need, and what we long for, we’re also learning to discern the Spirit’s sweet, gentle voice within our hearts and lives.

Take a few moments today or this weekend to journal or contemplate with the Holy Spirit the following question(s) or prompt(s):

What area(s) of your heart and life need to experience God as The Good Shepherd today? The One Who fulfills every need and longing?

I would invite you to spend time reading the passage from John 2:1-5 sometime this weekend, listening for God’s invitation to you through its words.

xo,

celia