The thing I want to do, most of the time, is swoop down from above. I want to be a jet, thundering in with a sonic boom, and I want to shoot missiles of love and kindness and then I want to swoop up and out of the picture again after I have solved someone else’s problem.
I am learning that the thing I am supposed to do is walk in, because I was never above those people in the first place. I am supposed to submit and wait patiently. The love and kindness that I have been given as a gift will effect change, but they are not missiles. They are slow, constant, steady things. I will stick around long enough to see that I did not rescue anybody except perhaps myself.
I was not put here on Earth to fix any problems. With God’s grace once in a great while I will. But mostly, I am learning, that I can lighten some people’s loads, some times. And I can cry with people sometimes. I can offer up hope that there is more than this.
Even when struggles are so close to me… perhaps this is when this thing is the most difficult. I have been praying for healing for someone who is so near and dear to me.
It is not a physical sort-of healing that they need.
I was praying for them, as an isolated, seperate entity. My prayer had nothing (on the surface) to do with me. I was not praying for us, I was not praying for the space between us. It is not that I was altruistic, that I was only concerned for them. It was that I was only willing to locate the struggles and problems within them, I only saw the things that needed to be fixed outside of me. I placed myself above them, in a fighter jet.
I had this image of a cut-away view of the world. There are these massive forces, building up, heat gathering. They erupt into volcanoes; explosions.
Sometimes, I realized, that people are like volcanoes. We see a person explode. It would be so foolish to see this explosion as caused just by the mountain, as a local issue.
Pressures build up in the spaces between us. Heat gathers. Volcanoes manifest.
Sometimes, our problems all manifest themselves in one place, on one person. This is not where they are caused. This is not where they begin. This is simply where they erupt.
There are people in our lives who appear to be unhealthy. The issues they suffer are outpourings of something below the surface and something that belongs to all of us.
The mystery of Jesus himself is somehow a part of this too; there was a problem among all of us, and it manifested outward through him.
I am working hard, now, at not praying for healing the person apart from me, but rather, to pray for both of us and all the space that is between.