The story of Mephibosheth is so encouraging to me. Not just because he was shown mercy by the King who let him keep breathing. Not just because he was brought into the palace. Not just because he was welcomed into the dinning room. Not just because he was seated at the table. Not just because he ate continually at the King’s table –
But because his lameness was never healed.
See, we love to shout the house down when we read about how God miraculously healed someone’s physical ailment. The blind see, the deaf hear, and the lame leap again! He is the great healer, the great physician as he is named in the scriptures.
What I find most interesting about the story of Mephibosheth is that though he was brought into the house of the King and seated at the table, there is no mention anywhere that his crippled legs were healed. I looked!
Do you have any idea how much hope that gives me? I’m probably going to get a little too authentic here, but last week my lameness exposed itself. I fell down, and I hurt not only myself, but people I love dearly.
I don’t know about you, but I have some demons from my past that are relentless. But they aren’t the kind that kick down doors and make a bunch of noise. Instead they leave a trail of bread crumbs that starts JUST off to the side of the path I’m supposed to be on, and before I know it I’m doing, saying, or thinking something that is so deep into the territory of sin…That was my week, in a nutshell.
Then – my alarm goes off Sunday at 6:15 AM. I very nearly sent a text to Pastor and Trey to tell them I was sick. I knew I was absolutely unworthy to stand on this stage, but I was terrified to tell anyone why.
Standing up here is a privilege not one of us takes lightly. And when I know I’ve done something that disrespects this position, my first inclination is to tap out. Because I can’t lead you into the presence of God if I’m not welcome there at the moment.
Add to that, the fact that I knew we were coming to the Lord’s table, and you can’t approach His table with dirty hands. Add to THAT, the fact that Robert and I are the ones who prepare the bread and juice – something I take VERY seriously. It is totally symbolic of his body and blood, but again, the weight of preparing the tools of worship so that you all can come into the presence of God unhindered is nothing to treat as common, even if the bread did come out of a grocery store.
The conversation I had with God as I cut that bread will forever live in my head as one of the most heart wrenching, heart breaking moments of my life, outside of the day I first gave Him my life.
I came upstairs an absolute spiritual wreck and tried to participate in rehearsal with the rest of the band. I honestly have no idea how it went for the band. I couldn’t get past the words I was reading on the back wall.
Long story longer –
I dealt with my sin before service ever started, and after it was over, I took steps to put additional safe guards around my path to make sure I NEVER follow those stupid bread crumbs again.
We could stop there and shout the house down. God’s mercy and grace are endless.
But I think we would be stopping too soon, because this isn’t my first go round with this temptation. It’s not even the second. Which means it’s time for me to accept the fact that this particular ‘weakness’ of mine is probably here to stay. My lameness – is not healed. Oh, it’s covered and I don’t have to be ashamed I have it because Jesus’s blood covered and cleansed the sin I committed when I chose not to resist the devil. I can submit to God all day long, but I also have a responsibility to resist letting my ‘weakness’ take me down the path to sin.
The cure for that? Remembering who God says I am. He calls me His child and then expects me to live like it!