Honesty = Health

Twice a week, I go to physical therapy for a “frozen shoulder.” I walk into a large, high-ceilinged room, with about 15 massage tables pushed up against the walls. One side of the room houses a small collection of exercise machines.

Some clients limp in, using canes or walkers. Others, like me, walk in easily, our injuries unseen until the therapists start their work. There is no pride at the PT office. Everyone who walks in needs help. Most everyone is in pain of some sort or another.

If you’ve ever been in physical therapy, you know that it often seems that the therapist looks for the spot or the position that hurts the most—and then digs in. My particular injury requires careful stretching, as much stretching as the pain allows. Today, I started an exercise, and my therapist said jovially, “If it doesn’t hurt, you’re not doing it right!” In order for me to heal, I have to go against my natural instincts to avoid pain. Only by enduring this pain, time and time again, will my shoulder regain the flexibility and mobility that I once had.

As I set my jaw and stretch out my shoulder for an hour twice a week, it occurs to me that this room has some parallels to our spiritual lives. Don’t we all walk—or limp, or are even carried—into the presence of God, broken and needy? No one goes to physical therapy unless they have some sort of injury or disease. There is no showing off at the exercise machines. Everyone is there for help and healing.

Similarly, no one enters God’s kingdom as a whole person. Oh, we may try to hide our brokenness from others, or even ourselves, and we may succeed for a while. But eventually the weight of our sin brings us to Jesus. We may dress up for church, and we may walk in, shiny and cleaned up, but if we could see each other with spiritual eyes, we’d all be like the folks at physical therapy, limping, swaying, holding our arm or our side where it hurts. Breathing hard from the pain of just walking into the room.

Yes, we’re all broken. But our therapist waits for us—Jesus, who heals the wounds of sin, who takes them on Himself. We like to think we’re coming to him on our own, but He is also beside us, letting us lean on him as we take those first trembling steps into his kingdom.

And once we’ve entered—hobbling along, leaning on Jesus’s arm—the work begins. The Holy Spirit stretches and changes us. He works to increase our mobility—to expand our capacity for love, forgiveness, and faith. Sometimes He has to dig in to where we hurt the most, to free us from old patterns of sin, to heal us from past trauma, to bind up the wounds inflicted on us by other broken people and by ourselves.

It does no good to deny our pain, our brokenness. You don’t walk into the physical therapy center and deny that your arm is hurting. You tell the therapist exactly where it hurts, what problems you’ve been having, and what activities are difficult for you. Pretending to be strong, pretending to be fully healthy, gets you nowhere. The therapist can’t do anything for you, unless you are truthful and allow him to do his work.

Jesus said, “Who needs a doctor: the healthy or the sick? I’m here inviting the sin-sick, not the spiritually-fit.” (Mark 2:17, The Message) We can be honest with God. He already knows our pain, our sin, and all the places where our brokenness limits our love for Him and for others. His Holy Spirit is working right now to heal us. All He asks of us is to let Him.

This post submitted by contributing Journeys of Faith writer- Jennifer Gross.  It first appeared  on the Prince of Peace Lutheran Church blog here: encourage-nova