Sunday, June 27, 2010

June 27, 2010

It's been a hard weekend. Mom's throat is burning and hurts very bad. We'll be talking to the doctor in the morning to see what else, if anything, they can give her for the pain.

What's your breaking point? at what point do you finally say, "enough"? What would push you to the ultimate edge that causes you to surrender?

No one really knows that answer until they are walking down that path. Some people walk to the edge while others crawl, hands callused, body beaten and bruised.

Jesus Christ walked to the edge and he had a breaking point. "My God, my God, why have you foresaken me?" is pretty much a breaking point...the edge of the preverbial cliff. He KNEW he had to walk whatever path was placed in front of him. And so it is with us - we walk, sometimes crawl, sometimes we are pushed. But we continue down the path that we are called upon not really knowing where the edge is or if we'll ever get there. Some people arrive quickly while others never arrive and they see yet another beautiful sunrise. Some people beg for the edge to arrive quickly so they can jump while others spend every step hoping it doesn't.

when I was a young child we lived for awhile in the mountains in Montana. The school house we attended was about 1/4 mile down the road from where we lived. It was a large building because at the turn of the 1900's the town was booming with miners and loggers and their kids. when the mining dried up, the town did as well. When I was there we had 13 kids in grades 1 through 8 and I was the only 5th grader. We all shared one teacher.

My older brother started a community volleyball game in the gymnasium and I would attend for awhile but I had to be home by a certain time. I fought my curfew so hard but my parents wouldn't budge. I didn't care about being home early - what I really wanted was someone to walk me home.

You see, in the mountains at that time, down that narrow two-lane highway that plowed through the center of the one-bar, one-gas station town; it was dark. we didn't have street lights. It was REALLY dark.

So I would set out on my way home. I would walk right down the center of the highway to avoid anything jumping out from the side of the road. Once in awhile a freightened deer or small furry animal would scare the crap outta me by dashing across the road. But you know what I did? I prayed. I would say this little prayer and I would time it with my steps. Each word was a step. "Lord guide my feet now step by step". I always made it home.

Was there a point when Mary looked at her son and didn't recognize his beaten down body? Was there a point when she gazed upon his face and her heart said, "he is already gone"? If Jesus had a mirror would he have had a hard time recognizing that energenic, charismatic preacher or would he have also seen a beaten-down man?

This is a tough time for us. For those who are not watching mom on a daily basis it is easier. You read, you pray, you feel pain and you care deeply. But when you gaze in to the eyes of someone who suddenly wants the edge to arrive - it looks dark. There seems to be no light. You KNOW there is light and you KNOW that the future will arrive brighter than today and you'll be fine but wow - getting there sure doesn't feel worth it, does it?

Thank God that Jesus decided it was worth it. And thank God that so many other people have said it is worth it. I know Mom says it is worth it but sometimes, when that last thorn has been thrust in to your brow, when you just can't tolerate one more hit of the whip, you'll try anything not to face the nails in your hands.

Mom we are proud of you. You can fight this fight and we know you are walking down a dark and lonely road. But we all want you to hear our foot steps keeping perfect rhythm with yours as we all chant, "Lord guide our feet now, step by step".

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