Paralyzed from the neck up - Pt 2

Excerpt: Jesus asked a paralytic if he wants to be healed. Why? Because we stop asking once we stop hoping. I resign myself to my mat.  Unsure if God even wants to heal me. If He did, He would. He hasn't. Why ask again?

In my last post, I said I’d look next at living deliberately. Batting practice for all who like me freeze up at the plate. Practical steps for living life intentionally. But no sooner did I write that post than I started freezing up again. Held hostage by old lies and fears. With every 'at bat', I wanted to swing. But for some reason I couldn’t.
 
A voice says ‘Don’t say you couldn’t! The truth is you wouldn't. You decided not to decide. That’s a decision! It’s called avoidance. Don’t deny it. You’re not paralyzed!’
 
On one hand, it makes sense. I could swing yet I don’t. So I guess I’m guilty as charged. Yet how do I do otherwise? I truly want to swing. Every time. Why don’t I?

Don't tell me to try harder!

With these thoughts in my head, I hit a wall after my last post. I read the tips I had already written earlier on being more decisive. But then I realized ‘I rarely do this stuff myself! Before trying, I convince myself I can’t do it. So I don’t try. Am I lazy and making excuses? Is it fear? Rebellion? Or is it simply that I don’t try hard enough?’

Since that post, I’ve learned there’s more to being decisive than deciding to be. For the paralyzed, it's not about effort (‘Try harder!’) or motivation (‘Gotta want it!’).

Action steps do help so I’ll still write that post. But it’s premature now. I can’t improve a swing I don’t have. If I freeze up, I need courage. Not tips. If paralyzed, I don't need willpower. I need God's power. If I can't walk, I don't need action steps!
 
On one hand, I might be justifying my avoidance by saying I'm paralyzed. An easy excuse for refusing to act. On the other hand, if I don’t believe I can do a task, I see 
only one option. Quit before I start. If I can't do it, I'd rather not try than try and fail.

I’ve prayed over this a lot. Not seeking answers as much as hope. I need hope! What good is it to learn I’m paralyzed if at the end of the day, I still can’t walk! Or worse, learn I'm not paralyzed. Yet I avoid life. Convinced I can’t walk. Lord, help!
 
God recently gave me what I needed. Words of hope. No tips. No shame about my fear. But words to hold on to when I freeze. Hope when I lose all hope of changing.

Words of Hope for the Paralyzed Soul

For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us,
so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures
and the encouragement they provide we might have hope. 
Romans 15:4 NIV

God’s gift of hope came through an unlikely vessel. Me. I 'stumbled' on a sermon I preached in 2017 on Jesus healing a paralyzed man. I listened, not to hear me but to hear what Jesus said to me then through this man's story. A man I can relate to.
 
Much of this post is from that sermon. But this time I’m preaching it to myself. It’s a heartfelt confession of what I’m relearning through this story. I write it for my sake, but I also pray God uses it to give hope to anyone else who feels paralyzed too.
 
How did Jesus reply to the paralyzed man in John 5? What would He say to me?

Here a great number of disabled people used to lie
– the blind, the lame and the paralyzed. John 5:3  

Do you have a disability?

A disability is whatever weakens my physical ability or puts me at a disadvantage. A disability of the heart is a spiritual, moral or mental weakness that I can't change.
 
I often feel like an invalid. I can’t seem to get started on the easiest task. I’ll freeze up. Unable to make a choice or take initiative. I also feel blind. I can’t see God or spiritual realities. Nor appreciate beauty as before. I can’t see the good stuff in life. I’m emotionally numb. I don’t feel joy or the love I once felt for others. Or for God.

Do you have a disability of the heart? Anything that leaves you weak? Unable to do what you want to do? Here’s a list. Do you ever wrestle with any of these issues? Do you face the same issue repeatedly? Unable to gain victory or see deep change?
 
Selfishness, pride, shame, lust, discontent, attention seeking, perfectionism, people-pleasing, anger, insecurity, fear, addictions, cynicism. Fill in the blank. The list is endless. Are you weak? What is it you can't change despite your best effort?
 
We’re all disabled. If I don’t think I am, my disability is called blindness. Cause? Pride. Pride leaves me ‘unable’ to see how weak I am. I think I'm the one exception.

Even if I see my weakness, I live in a culture where it’s not cool to not be cool. And
weakness is not cool. If you’re weak, never admit it. Fix it. If you can’t, then hide it.
 
Yet it’s the weak Jesus looks for. Not those who climb ladders of success. Nor those
who think they can climb a ladder to God. Jesus came down a ladder for the lame. For those who can’t climb at all. We seek the strong. Not God. He seeks the weak.

What does Jesus say to the weak? The paralyzed? The one who can’t help himself?

Do you want to get well?
Jesus

An odd question. Why ask permission? Why does Jesus need to know whether this man wants to get well? Isn’t it obvious that any sick person would want to get well?

Perhaps he resigned himself to his fate. ‘This mat by this pool is my home. Forever’.
He was lame for 38 years. ‘It's my new normal. Don’t hope for healing. Accept it!’ 

Do you have a disability of the heart? Do you resent it? Deny it? Ignore it? Has it stolen your hope? Shattered your dreams? Jesus asks, ‘Do you want to get well?’

I wonder if He asks this because we stop asking Him to heal us. We tend to stop asking once we stop hoping. We’re no longer sure He wants to heal us.  If He can.

Don't raise my hopes! Please!!!

It’s easy to lose hope or resign ourselves to our fate. Like the Shunammite in 2 Ki.4, promises of healing anger us. “Don’t raise my hopes! I cannot handle another loss!”

God understands, yet says 'Hope!' He won’t push miracles on us. He asks us to ask.

But asking isn’t easy. Especially if you have asked. Repeatedly. And He doesn't answer. I can see why many stop believing God cares. And why they stop asking.

A man who lost his job and can't find another was told ‘Hold on to hope’. His reply:
“I’m beginning to despise the hope. It just sets me up for another fall. Why bother?”
Carol after being hurt again wants to quit on love altogether. She said 'I hate hope'.

Life without hope is like being in a coma. I’m alive, yet I’m not. God wants to revive my hope. And me. But it’s not easy to trust Him and risk being disappointed again. 
 
Have I given up on love due to past hurt? Or given up on dreams to avoid pain? It’s not easy to let my heart desire again. Yet if I shut down desire, my heart suffocates.

“I stand at a crossroads, and I am afraid of my desire being stirred up.
For 41 years I’ve tried to control my life by killing the desire, but I can’t. Now I know it. But to allow it to be, to let it out is frightening because I know I'll have to give up the control of my life.  Is there another option?”
A friend of John Eldredge

John said the easier or safer option is to reduce my desires to a manageable size.
Like a batter who settles for the occasional walk instead of ‘swinging for the fences’.

It’s hard to recall how many opportunities I've lost because I'm afraid to swing. That
pain inspired my last post. And it's why I want to live the rest of my life deliberately.

Like Paul, I want to ‘take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me’. I want to keep the faith. Fight the fight. Until it’s over. Not end my days in regret. I want to cross the finish line with joy. Not haunted by dreams I quit on or missions I aborted.

But am I ready to do what I must do to get well? Of course I want a miracle. But like the rich young ruler, ‘getting well’ may require that I give up idols I can’t give up. Or it may require some difficult choices or lifestyle changes I’m not ready to make.

Do you want to get well?
Are you sure?

After 20 years in ministry, Jon Walker was laid off. Lost his home and savings. He suffered from depression and bipolar II disorder. Then his wife filed for divorce close to their 24th anniversary. Then God spoke to him through this story. (John 5)

Years ago, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and began the hard work of deep, lasting, Jesus-led recovery. I read in John 5 where Jesus said to the invalid ‘Do you want to get well?’ As I read that, it felt like Jesus was saying to me ‘Jon, do you want to be healed?’ What?! Of course, I want to be healed! But then I realized what he meant. Was I willing to take the steps necessary for my full healing?

Was I willing to do the hard work of facing painful situations, uncovering bitterness and admit to deep, resentful anger? Was I willing to give up my stubborn excuses that allowed me to stay the same, somehow seeing my sickness as more secure than my health? (at least I know what to expect) Was I willing to give up control, let God be God, and admit that I can’t, but he can.  Or will I instead insist that I can, even though I can’t, keeping myself in a cycle of helplessness and hopelessness?”

As I read John 5 and Jon’s story, I felt like Jesus was asking me the same question.

I shared this with a friend and he said “Change is scary because you get comfortable with the way things are even when you know it’s not good. It takes a lot of faith to ask Jesus to change you. Sometimes it’s easier to stay the way you are.”
If I'm 'disabled', my only hope is finding someone 'able' to help me do what I can't.

My hope is only as strong as what I rest my hope upon.

So how did the paralyzed man respond to Jesus question? Where did his hope lie?

“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I'm trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” John 5:7

If Jesus asked if I wanted to get well, I'd simply say ‘Yes!’ Instead he explains why he can’t get healed. He has his own plan. But God and others aren’t cooperating.

I too have a plan for overcoming disability, eliminating weakness and showing the world I’m not as weak as I appear. Like a toddler, I really think "I can do it myself!"

Jesus knows I need His help. And that I’ve resigned myself to my mat. In love, He seeks me out. Wanting more for me than I do. So He asks me the same question. 

Do YOU want to get well?

Next Post: I’ll explore the roots of my paralysis and finish this ‘sermon to myself’.