wolverine

I mentioned wanting to start sharing some of the things that I have been learning, and so here is the first: I am wimpier than I thought I was. Now, by that I am not referring to the fact that I wept like a baby for an hour or two in the hospital.  The poor CT scan intern. They kept asking how they could make me comfortable and I kept telling them I had no pain and that I didn't know why I was weeping  No, I am not referring to that, because my doctor tells me that he has seen many big burly football dudes do the same thing when their brain gets compressed (in their case, by a concussion). 

No, I am referring to something far deeper and more fundamental. I don't think I ever consciously thought about how I would respond to pain, but I think my male arrogance subconsciously assumed that I would endure it like Wolverine - gritting my teeth no matter how many bullets went through me and continuing to fight on. OK maybe not physically, but at least spiritually - I'm a pastor, right?  Shouldn't I be enjoying God's presence and singing songs of praise to God through the pain like those stories of the martyrs? But the truth is, when the migraines would not leave, I wanted to tap out. It was hard to focus on anything except the pain, and if I could pray it was very short prayers for help, healing, or for Jesus to come back.  Perhaps I had subconsciously imagined that I would face the end like Frodo did – the great victor, boldly sailing his ship into the afterlife. 

But I think a different story from Frodo's life would be more fitting – the time where he was stabbed by the Nazgul, started going unconscious, and was carried to the elves for healing.  That latter Frodo story is not about Frodo's strength, but his weakness. It's not about victory, it's about Grace.  And Grace is what I so desperately needed, both physically and spiritually.  This is the kind of wimpiness I am talking about – not being a wuss or a crybaby, but the fundamental weakness each of us have as human beings.  As much as our human arrogance doesn't want to think about it, we each are incredibly finite, limited, weak, and even sinful.  Perhaps the story we should remember is not Frodo's, but the one Jesus told in Luke 18 about a Pharisee who was "confident in his own righteousness" versus a tax collector who humbly prayed "God, have mercy on me, a sinner" and so actually received God's forgiveness.  

I shouldn't have been surprised, but this ordeal has again reminded me that the way we start the race is also the way we end the race – by humbly relying on his grace.  We can not "wolverine" our way into heaven, we'll only get there by asking Jesus to forgive us & carry us there by grace.  Thank you to all of you who have helped carry me to the throne of grace this last month, especially Katie, who has been such an incredible blessing to me in so many ways. 

Love you all, 

Casey