Skip to main content

Cut A Hole In The Roof

The second chapter of Mark begins with the story of a paraplegic who is lowered through the roof by his friends in order to see Jesus. There's much to be said about this story, but for today, I'll just reflect on the friends of the paraplegic.

I wondered today as I read that story how different that man's life would have been had he and his friends not been so bold. What if they'd seen the crowd and given up? Turned around and gone home? Decided that they didn't want to be a bother? I mean, obviously, Jesus had his hands full with a crowd that size. I'm sad to say that that's probably what I would have done.

Mark says that Jesus was "impressed by their boldness," and He not only healed the man's soul but his body as well. I'm not naturally bold or tenacious. I tend to think I should absorb whatever life hands my way and accept it as God's will, but lately, I've begun to see I'm a little off-balance in that regard. There is much to be said for accepting your lot in life, in accepting the things that you cannot change: your age, race, gender, family, marital status, childlessness (or overabundance thereof), etc, etc. I'm not talking about those things. I'm talking about the things that God has given you to do - like the friends of the paraplegic. They had a task - get their friend to Jesus no matter what. The crowd was too thick to walk through, so they got creative and cut a hole in the roof.They got their friend to Jesus. They found a way. They made it happen; and in so doing, Jesus healed their friend. He changed his life drastically and dramatically, and I would venture a guess that their lives were never the same either.

Life overflows with obstacles: the crowd (other people) and roofs (other things), but I want to do what God has given me to do. I want to complete my task like the friends of the paraplegic completed theirs. I want to impress Jesus with my boldness. I want to skirt the crowd and cut through the roof. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

As A Child

“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 18:3 Become like little children? Really? Children are definitely cute and innocent, but that pretty much covers the positive qualities. On the negative side, however, the list is quite a bit lengthier: demanding, dependent, self-centered, messy, often smelly, expensive, and embarrassingly honest. So why? WHY in the world would Jesus tell us to become like little children? WHY in the world would He want that? What was He thinking?! Well, He was a thirty-something year-old bachelor. Maybe He didn't really know what He was talking about when He said that. I mean, if we come to Him like little children, it's pretty much guaranteed to be messy. We're likely to be crabby, cranky. We might be downright angry. Prayer-ADD is hard to control on a good day. If we're not on top of it, if we don't have our list in front of us to focus our thoughts, we...

The Hug That Said It All

I witnessed a hug the other day. Big deal, right? People see other people hug all the time. Yeah, but this was a hug that melted my heart. We attended a graduation party in honor of our nephew. It was held under a pavilion. There was quite a spread of food, and each table was loaded with decorations and favors (very nicely done, Ange!). Obviously a lot of work . . . a lot of love was poured into this party. As the evening wound down, many of us hung around to help clean up. That's the un-fun part of a party. The un-fun part of this party became even more un-fun when, in an attempt to dump a drum of trash into a plastic trash bag, wet, gooey, smelley garbage ended up on the concrete floor of the pavilion. It was rank and disgusting, but my sister-in-law (the afore mentioned "Ange.") cleaned up without complaint. When the graduate meandered by shortly thereafter, I jokingly told him, in a scolding voice, that he had better get down on his knees in gratitude for all his moth...

More Than Enough

Life is teeming with reminders of our need for God. Take today for example: I'm exhausted. I have this ridiculously sensitive body rhythm, and I messed it up yesterday. I went to St. Louis with a mother and daughter. The daughter is strongly considering an extended stay in Burkina Faso as a missionary. So the mother/daughter team that have been there/done that spent the day with the mother/daughter team in the early stages of going there/doing that. It was a great time. Ami and I both enjoyed sharing our experiences, and by their own admission, the time was profitable for the other mother and daughter; but for me, to talk for a full eight hours is waaaayyy past my conversation limit. "Conversation limit?" Yep. Conversation limit. A previous boss used to cite some statistic about how many words an average woman speaks each day as compared to the average man. He'd see me talking and joke that I hadn't reached my quota for the day. My quota, however, is much lower ...