For the last couple of weeks, I've been going for physical therapy on my shoulder. It's sure not the most fun I've had in my life, but my shoulder does seem to be improving somewhat. Each time I go, the therapist has me perform a series of exercises and sends me home with printed instructions outlining the schedule she wants me to follow until my next appointment. For many of the movements of my shoulder while I'm at her office, rather than me moving my arm, the therapist moves it for me. And each time, she says, "Just relax, Terrie, and let me move and lift your arm ... remember, you're injured, and I'm not. Let me do the hard part for you ... relax and let me do the work ... rest ... relax ... let me help you." As I left my appointment on Monday, I couldn't stop thinking about her words and the way she lifted my arm above my head time and time again. She was patient and kind, never tiring in holding my arm up and never stopping in her encouragement to me to press on through the pain.
Turning into my driveway, I began to think about the story in Exodus 17 about Joshua fighting against the Amalekites. Moses and his two friends, Aaron and Hur, went to the top of the hill to watch the battle as God had commanded. As long as Moses kept his arms lifted, Joshua and the Israelites were winning, but whenever Moses lowered his arms, the Amalekites were winning. Listen to what verses 12 and 13 say: "When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up—one on one side, one on the other—so that his hands remained steady till sunset. So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword." When Moses got tired, when his arms started hurting, when he was weak, when he could no longer stand ... his friends helped him find a place to rest and held his arms up for him ... they helped him follow God's instructions and commandments when he couldn't do it on his own ... they stayed by his side until the battle was won.
It's hard for me to do what the therapist asks of me ... to relax and let go, to let her lift my arm. It's hard for me to admit that I can't raise my arm over my head by myself. It's hard for me to agree that I need her to do the hard part for me. And yet, my shoulder hurts and I need the physical therapy so that hopefully, the pain will ease and I'll again have strength in my arm and the ability to move as I once did. Standing at my kitchen sink drinking a glass of water, it struck me ... there are probably people who are holding up the arms of my heart and soul and mind ... people who are lifting me up in prayer and asking God to protect me from the sadness that has left me weary and hurting, weak and lonely, treading water in the darkest and deepest sea of my life. And just as I need my arm raised by the therapist, I need my heart held up by those of you whom I haven't managed to drive away by my silent and distant mood.
Last night as I was walking, I was listening to some of the old Southern gospel tunes that I mentioned a few posts ago, and I'd like to close with the lyrics to one of those songs. I'd also like to say thank you to those of you who haven't completely given up on me or run away from me ... thank you for holding up my arms ... and my heart.
"I had gone till I just couldn't go anymore
My faith had walked right out the door.
I thought there was just no way I could ever be free.
Someone looked at me with love and concern
And you started to let your prayer wheel turn.
Glory hallelujah, somebody touched God for me.
Somebody touched God when I was down
Picked me up and turned me around.
Then went to the throne of God to intercede.
When I was sinking deep in despair
My brothers and my sisters held me up in prayer.
When I was weak, somebody touched God for me.
Now God told Moses if you want to win
Keep your hands in the air till the very end
But he got so tired, he thought he was facing defeat.
So with one on the left and another on the right
They held up his hands till the end of the fight.
Intercessory prayer helped win the victory.
Somebody touched God when I was down
Picked me up and turned me around.
Then went to the throne of God to intercede.
When I was sinking deep in despair
My brothers and my sisters held me up in prayer.
When I was weak, somebody touched God for me.
When I was hurt, somebody touched God
And all alone, somebody touched God
Somebody touched God and took me to the cross
They called my name, and He heard their cry
When I was weak, somebody touched God for me.
Somebody touched God for me."
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