May we listen as He teaches us. May we follow His direction to rise from mistaken paradigms, take up our beds, and walk in the truth we receive.
I am drawn again and again to the picture “Christ Healing by the Well of Bethesda” by Danish artist Carl Bloch. It really speaks to me. It depicts, and for me, adds greater insight into, the biblical story found in the Gospel of John chapter 5.
In ancient Jerusalem, there was a pool of Bethesda. Many sick, paralyzed, blind and afflicted people gathered in this place. Every year, it was said that an angel of the Lord would come to this particular pool and stir up the waters there. The first person into the pool after it had been stirred would be healed of his or her ailment.
Among those gathered there, all wanting to be the miracle, was a man who had dealt with his infirmity for thirty-eight years (38 YEARS!!!) Bloch’s picture shows him inside a makeshift shelter–to me implying that he may have been camped there for a good portion of time. He seems to have his heart set on his annual chance at this miracle, and has built his life around this one avenue to this one hope.
The Savior approaches this man and asks, “Wilt thou be made whole?” (v.6)
The man, unknowing of Whom he sits before, tries to explain his plight: “Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me.” It seems he’s tried this several times, always with the same disappointing result.
He is then directed by the Master Healer to “rise, take up thy bed, and walk.” (v.8)
And the account records that …immediately the man was made whole, and took up his bed, and walked. (v.9)
This story is so rich. There is so much to wonder about, analyze, and apply in this brief account of healing. Coupled with the life-infusing detail of Bloch’s painting, I have spent (and will probably continue to spend) lots of time pondering this scenario and what it means to me. It continues to give life to my witness of my Savior.
I think it is so significant that Christ is pictured lifting the drape from before this man’s eyes. He is in every sense, bringing light to the man’s life. He is bringing him out of the shadows and into the light of a miracle coming in a way that he didn’t expect. This man is healed–not by the annual passing of an angel–but by the Son of God Himself! His expectation was far exceeded, and his wait sanctified.
For me, this story provokes the questions, “How am I like the man in this story? What paradigms has the Lord shifted for my good? What miracles have come to me in unexpected ways?”
I journal often about the answers to these questions. It’s amazing to see just how many of my old mindsets have been made new. How empathy has been born in the midst of a fiery time of personal heartache. How many times a flicker of light has been my guide through darkness and confusion and misunderstanding. How many reminders have come of truths forgotten, or even confirmation of truths I am currently experiencing. For me, each of these are healing gifts and miracles from my Savior.
Here are three paradigms I feel that have been “healed” by my relationship with the Savior. Maybe you’ve already “seen the light” in these perspectives, but they are especially poignant and on my heart today:
1. Trials and blessings…I used to think of these two ideas as very separate entities. But life–and the Lord through my life–has taught me otherwise. Sometimes these two words are synonymous. Sometimes they are connected by a passage of time, when we see that our trials become, or bring about blessings. Some “blessings” are really heavy–even though they are definitely still blessings. And some “trials” are made almost immediately light. Sometimes the blessing is that the Lord strengthens us to be able to bear the trial. Trials and blessings both have the capability to draw us closer to the Lord, and that’s a choice we make. A favorite song of mine speaks to this message so well: “What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?” (“Blessings” by Laura Story)
2. Bigger picture…One day a few years ago, when our kiddos were tinier than they are now, I was overwhelmed by how cluttered and dirty our house had become. It was affecting my attitude and the general feeling in our home. I had had it! I walked from room to room, maneuvering through the piles, trying not to crunch who knows what into the carpet. I got progressively more anxious and stressed as I moved throughout the house, detailing a list of all the tasks I would have to perform to even get us back to ground zero. By the time I got to the basement, I was in such a state of panic and dejection, I dramatically flung myself to the ground (I modeled this after a tantrum I had seen earlier that morning). I just laid there, staring up at the ceiling, for a few minutes. The thought came, “Well, at least the ceiling is all clean.” And then another thought, “And hey, from down here, I can see/tell that the floor is actually the only part of the room that is cluttered…so that’s only about a quarter of the space…” Heaven-sent wisdom, folks. I’m not going to lie, my very next thought was, “Hmmm, 75% clean is actually pretty good. Maybe I don’t need to even clean at all” (Nope, not the moral of this story, keep reading haha). But that divine perspective shift was just enough to motivate me. It showed me the bigger picture, and helped my task(s) feel more manageable. You may laugh at this story (because the image of a grown woman on the floor, hair splayed out, surrounded by train tracks and Go-Fish cards is pretty comical…but also SO REAL!). But it was hugely significant for me at the time, and since. I often get so wrapped up in and overwhelmed by the little details, that I forget about the bigger picture. But the Lord is good to remind me that His plan is big. And perfect. That it will all work out. And that I am able to do what He sent me here to do. With His help.
3. Hard and bad are not the same thing…I will forever remember a life-changing conversation I had in college. A friend and I were meeting up to discuss details involving a campus organization. I asked how her week had been. She said, “It’s been a hard week.” I immediately jumped into empathy-mode and told her I was sorry that her week had been so hard, and asked what had made it so bad. Her calm response taught me so much. “Oh Dani, it’s fine. Hard isn’t bad–it’s just different than easy.” BAM. I was blown away. I had never separated those two before, silly as that sounds. But she was so right. She went on to explain some of what had made her week so “hard” (aka different than easy), and how she was really happy it had been so. Accepting that some things are hard can make them less complicated to handle. I’ve thought often about this inspired conversation, at various stages in my life. Take, for example, motherhood. Hard? Definitely. Full of hard work and heart work. Every day and at every stage. But bad? Definitely not. Much much much the opposite. Right now, my husband and I are looking into further graduate studies. Would that be hard? Yep. In so many ways (in every way, really!) Could it also be good? Absolutely. Many times over. Which is why life decisions are so big (sigh!) I think this truth can be applied to just about any situation in life. May we not avoid the “hard” in the “good”, and learn to recognize how the two are often intertwined.
Christ is a Healer of all things. Sometimes He works in ways we don’t expect to teach us truths we didn’t understand. But whatever the method, praise be to God! May we listen as He teaches us. May we follow His direction to rise from mistaken paradigms, take up our beds, and walk in the truth we receive.
My invitation to you:
Ponder and consider recording/sharing your answers to these questions:
*What paradigms has the Lord shifted for your good?
*What miracles have come in unexpected ways?”
Sources:
Photo by Danilo Batista on Unsplash
Painting by Carl Heinrich Bloch, 1883 – Christ Healing the Sick at Bethesda http://cfac.byu.edu/fileadmin/moa/user_files/00TRANSFER/Shop_at_MOA/images/christhealingthesick.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5774755
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