Pinned.

(Photo by Travis Heying, Wichita Eagle, 2016)

"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies;"

-Psalm 23:5a

Pinned. Stuck.  Trapped. It is a bit unsettling.  For the last twelve days, I have been repeating these words as I undergo radiation treatments for the cancer in my throat.  Actually, I have been thinking these words, not actually speaking them.  During these treatments, my head is fastened to the table via a mesh mask that is designed to keep me from moving even a twitch.  This allows for accurate targeting of the treatments, but does not allow for oral recitation of these words of comfort.

I am powerless, but God is at work.

Our middle son, Isaac, when he was just about three years old, had some difficulty sounding the letter "r".  I remember one evening, we were in the middle of a real, mid-western, spring zephyr. There was thunder and lightning, wind and rain, and even a tornado siren.  The whole family was huddled in the basement waiting for the tornado warning to expire and I was visibly nervous.  I was worried about the roof, the trees, and the insurance paperwork, and  Isaac said, "Daddy, don't be afraid of tomatoes, God is with us in the storm and He will keep us safe."

Isaac knew that God was at work even when we were stuck in the basement and powerless to do anything about the storm.

And God did keep us safe that night, though it was scary. However, I know that sometimes, the tornadoes do come. The trees do fall.  Sometimes the storms in life pummel roofs, sometimes they tear at our hearts, and sometimes they do violence to our bodies. They are painful, heart-wrenching, and even devastating. Sometimes we feel pinned down. We can't move and even if we could, we aren't sure where we would go or what we would do.

We feel powerless, but God is at work.

...even on that treatment table. It is uncomfortable and nerve-wracking, and painful, but it has also been a humbling and awesome experience to feel God work when I can't move.  I don't know for sure what God is doing, but He is at work in me and around me and maybe even through me. I am convinced that when this is over, I won't be in the same place I was in the beginning.

Still, it is no fun.  And I can still think of others who might be more deserving of this affliction. But I am beginning to experience God in a new way.  When I am stuck, I am absolutely convinced that God at work, preparing a table of blessings, holding me close, and reminding me not to be afraid of tomatoes.

Church Stopping. Less doing. More Being.