Learning Rest

Walking in the Healing

My feet hit the pavement, a faster rhythm than normal. My lungs moved with strength, fueling my legs. I felt good floating down the open road as I ran past open fields. My mind clear; my emotions realigned.

The next morning, my feet hit the floor and I could barely walk on my left foot. Where did the pain come from? I felt so good yesterday! Now, I’m in tears trying to get to the bathroom! For weeks my foot had a pain-hangover from one run, too fast, too far in old shoes. Each time I tried to convince myself my foot was better, I’d wind up crying in the frozen food section or limping to my car. The pain paralyzed me.

Walking, we take it for granted. It’s a mundane automatic skill for most people. We wake up, our feet touch the floor and we walk. We don’t appreciate it until it’s taken away. In order to walk our bodies have to be healthy and functioning. When something is wrong, our body gives us messages to slow down, rest, and find the source of pain.

My foot pain was a megaphone screaming a message loud and clear. My body needed immediate rest in order to heal. I had exasperated my leg muscles and tendons. I needed to slow down physically, mentally, emotionally, & spiritually. Even now, months later, I’m still not able to run like I use to. I’m just beginning to strengthen weak muscles and slowly regain my running habits. I’ve been forced to find new methods of movement in order to heal.

Jeremiah 6:16 says, “Thus says the Lord, ‘Stand by the roads and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it and find rest for your souls’” (emphasis mine).

Over the past several months my posts looked at the previous verbs: stand, look and ask. This is the first total body response: walk. Standing requires certain parts of our body to exert energy. Looking requires our mind and eyes to engage. Asking requires a verbal, vocal vulnerability. Walking. Walking requires all of our body to engage. Our brain sends messages to our muscles. Our eyes look for obstacles. We ask for directions. We are no longer stationary. We’re mobile, on the move, departing from where we’ve been for so long. Walking requires everything to function together, seamlessly. Our muscles strong, healthy and whole. Walking is so seamless we don’t even recognize the miracle of the movement.

We don’t recognize the miracle until it breaks down. I think the same is true for us spiritually. How do we take care of our spiritual health so we can seamlessly “…walk in the light, as he is in the light…” (1 John 1:7)? We cruise through life until something breaks down in our faith. A fierce spiritual pain screams at us. A megaphone of a message warns us to slow down, reevaluate our spiritual health, but do we?

In Jeremiah, the Lord tells his people how to strengthen their spiritual health. It comes back to those previous verbs: stand, look and ask. If we can build these verbs into our daily habits it naturally strengthens our spiritual muscles. We are prepared to leave the place we’ve been rooted. The standing and looking force us to see our weaknesses and deficiencies. This leads us to ask for help, guidance. The asking provides spiritual nutrients we lack, yet so desperately need. The more we practice these three verbs, the more we build up his strength in our weakness.

Injuries of any kind are painful, a nuisance, scary, and frustrating. However, injuries can also be a gift. Injuries force us to stop and reevaluate our habits. What are we doing that’s beneficial? What are we doing that’s damaging? What part of our body is neglected? Where do we need to refocus our attention? How can we live more balanced and whole? We learn new habits. We learn new skills. Small changes take shape. Over time, small changes bring new life.

Spiritually, we come across seasons where we feel injured, defeated, sick. These times can bring fear because it’s abnormal. It’s not how we typically handle life. We can’t walk seamlessly in our faith anymore. We might barely be able to stand in our faith. Yet, these seasons of spiritual injury are a gift. They help us see our weaknesses, the lies we believe from Satan. They help us spot our blind spots, the neglected parts of our spirit, rattled with deficiencies.

The question is, are we willing to sense the screaming messages of spiritual pain and actually slow down? Are we willing to relearn how to stand in one place instead of forcing ourselves to walk on fractured or broken belief? Are we willing to look at our lives and honestly see the healthy and unhealthy habits feeding our souls? Are we willing to ask for a new way of life? The real test, are we willing to walk in the light?  Will we leave behind our comfortable habits to walk in new habits? Are we willing to let his strength move us even when we’re still fearful and weak?

When 1 John 1:5-10  says, “…we walk in the light…” it is not calling us to walk in our own perfection. We don’t stand, look, and ask until we are perfectly healthy. We walk in the light and then he cleanses us. We walk in the light, exposing our flaws. We walk in the journey, changing over time. We practice confession, fellowship, and truth. We practice and learn new habits. We practice a new lifestyle.

When we learn to walk in the light he gives us favor and honor (Psalm 84:11). He desires to give us his goodness, but he also desires to see us grow strong in our faith. He desires to see our faith wholly, totally, physically respond. Let’s slow down and give God space to speak to our hearts about our spiritual health.

  • Where do we feel spiritually deficient?
  • What lies are we believing and how are we fighting back?
  • Are we taking time to stand in stillness and look for God in our day?
  • Are we bravely asking for better ways, maybe even impossible paths?
  • What do confession and fellowship look like in our lives?
  • How is he asking us to walk in faith, exposed in the light?

We are made to walk in him, not in our own perfection. Let’s be ready to walk where he leads.

Picture via Pixabay