My stroke damaged body is free. Large parts of it do whatever they want, not paying any (or enough) attention to my head and what I want to do. The freedom is not resulting in anything good for me.
It got me thinking about how patient the Creator is with mankind, or, for that matter, Christians and the Church. The obedience rates there are nothing to be happy about.
The only solution for my damage problems that therapists can suggest to me right now is practice. Practice walking around. Practice standing still, keeping my balance while not hanging on to anything.
Melanie helps in this. She watches me and
complains instructs me when I am forgetting to do what she has heard the therapists tell me. She does that because she wants me to get better, to be well again. So I see her as very much God’s voice in those moments.
And my reaction is about like it is to God’s voice, to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. In other words, sometimes quick, many times not. Sometimes with gratitude, too often not.
I’m already making an effort. I desire that things be better. That’s not enough. If I knew all about how to improve, that would be one thing. Clearly, I don’t know all I need to know. And I don’t do all I know to do. I need the voice(s) of correction to keep prodding me.
My own body only listens to me imperfectly. I am listening imperfectly, also, with imperfect responses. That’s one (more) reason to appreciate the Father’s patience with me.
Lord, help me not to take it for granted. You speak Your directions to me for a reason and a purpose, and that purpose has to do with Your Glory, not mine.
Jesus often said, “Whoever has ears, let him hear.”
And more than that, let him submit, pay attention, and do it.
You in the mirror, I’m talking to you.