In the summer, I was traveling to London on the train. It was a birthday treat and the idea of driving didn't spark much joy. As I normally travel by car, the train was an adventure - to start with! And then, like the Hobbits leaving the shire, it didn't quite go to plan! I'll leave the full story for another day but traveling by train the same day that Taylor Swift was in Wembley wasn't such a great idea. The trains were absolutely chockablock. We spent an hour stood toe to toe, head to armpits, as hundreds of people squashed into a train that was already full. Yet the passengers were laughing, chatting and sharing life stories as we trundled down the tracks. The discomfort, apparently, was worth it and we left the station wishing our new besties a wonderful time. If that was a Monday morning of commuters, I'm pretty sure the atmosphere wouldn't be quite so joy filled. What we're willing and even able to endure, can definitely be connected with the perceived reward at the other side.
Fast forward a couple of months and I was clambering up a mountain, hot, dripping wet and out of breath. I knew it was going to happen. I'd been in training all summer:- Swimming, paddle boarding, biking, hiking. I'm not particularly fit and if I was going to enjoy all that Norway had to offer, it was worth putting some effort in to improve my fitness levels beforehand. As I reached the top of a stunning waterfall, complete with rainbow, I knew it had been worth it. The next day, on our way ziplining, we headed out on a train ride up the mountain. The train stopped next to a stunning waterfall and, alongside a few hundred people on a cruise ship excursion, we stood, took pictures and "ooh"d but I couldn't help notice that I didn't have quite the same appreciation for it, even though it was more impressive. It hadn't cost the same so perhaps I couldn't value it in the same way?
The training through the year hadn't been purely physical. As far back as I can remember, I've had panic attacks when I go uphill. A few times I've had to lie on the floor and wait for it to pass. I haven't had that extreme reaction for decades, but it's still not pleasant. I decided it was time to get to the bottom of the problem. I started walking by myself up Moel Eilio. From the carpark it's an easy 2 hour walk to get to the top and back with time for a picnic (my treat to myself for the hard work!). Twenty-five minutes in, as my body started to let me know it was working, panic arrived to keep me company. And so I stopped. I let myself feel the panic, and listened carefully to my thoughts. I asked Jesus to help me see where it stemmed from and he showed me. I carried on up the mountain and I did the same whenever the panic kicked in. I did the hike a few times, each time getting a deeper understanding of what was happening in me, each time enjoying the walk more and more. The fear was never about the mountain. It was deeper, and took time to get to. Some memories where no bigger than emotional chippings that must have seemed like huge boulders to carry around as a child. They were easy enough to get rid of. Time puts a different perspective on things, but not always an easier one. I'm not yet ready to openly share what Jesus helped remove in those days. Like someone who's been under a good surgeons knife, the wounds need time to heal, and once they do, there'll be scars and these I'll show to the world, giving honour to the skill of the one who sewed me up so beautifully.
Through it all I felt the kindness of God on the mountain with me, whispering "I've got you."
I knew there was freedom the other side, and that made looking at the dark, scary and uncomfortable things worth doing. There are times we endure crappy stuff and it makes no sense why, and the light doesn't seem to be shining down any tunnel, but there IS joy set before us on the otherside. Every story can be redeemed, every cut healed. Taylor Swift has a song called "I Can Do It With a Broken Heart" and I've lived like that, looking like I have it altogether. I've done that so well, and it's easy - until it isn't. But why settle for that, when there's chance to let the surgeon do what he does so well; heal!
The Spirit of the Lord, the Eternal, is on me.
The Lord has appointed me for a special purpose.
He has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to repair broken hearts,
And to declare to those who are held captive and bound in prison,
“Be free from your imprisonment!”
Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Put My yoke upon your shoulders—it might appear heavy at first, but it is perfectly fitted to your curves. Learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble of heart. When you are yoked to Me, your weary souls will find rest. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.
Comments
Post a Comment