Putting Yourself in Gethsemane:
Luke 22:39-46
I
stumble into the garden of Gethsemane with the rest of the disciples, following
Jesus to a quiet place. Here the air is cold and wet; I inhale the deep, earthy
smell and try to rub away the goosebumps covering my arms. He tells us to pray
so that we will not fall into temptation. We are all weak and beyond exhausted,
unable to even think clearly.
I watch
him take several steps away from us. He is only a couple of yards away and he
hits his knees and begins to pray. In the dark I can see the outline of his
body, and I hear him whisper…not my will,
but yours be done. An angel appears as a soft glow, and appears to be
wiping his tears.
His
voice gets louder as he prays to the father, and in the light of the moon sweat
pours down his face, sweat which now looks like blood; and if it isn’t, I know
that it will be soon. I am gripped by fear and anguish to see my Lord like
this, and I lean my back against a large tree, looking up at the sky, closing
my eyes…Father have mercy…
I am
startled awake when Jesus sharply asks why we are sleeping, and tells us to
pray so that we do not fall into temptation. I don’t entirely know what he
means, but I do know for certain that evil is near. I rub my eyes, shake off my
exhaustion, and begin praying to the Father to have mercy on all of us.
This
passage is so…human. Today it serves as a reminder that Jesus trusted the
Father, he deferred to the Father’s will, obedience even unto death. Am I
willing to pray that God be glorified, no matter what the personal cost to me?
Jesus
had to make the choice to obey and glorify God, even while his very closest
disciples fell asleep only feet away from Him. Will I be obedient even when
those closest to me are falling asleep instead of praying? Though it’s too much
for others, will I persevere? Oh I am far from Christlike….
This week my husband will go to the
doctor to receive the results of his yearly CT Scan to check for signs of
cancer. He has been in remission for several years from Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. He
used to have to be checked every six months, but has now reached the happy
milestone where the check-ups are only yearly. Someday, they will be every two
years, every five years…
There have been more stressful years,
years where I did not handle the fear well. One year I suffered from the
emotional neurosis of pregnancy, and lost sleep in the fear of delivering our
first baby to a sick or dead husband. A real fear, but one magnified dramatically
by pregnancy.
In subsequent years I find myself asking what
we would do if the cancer came back. It is an underlying fear which mercifully
is almost always far away, one which only comes out on rainy days. It rears its
ugly head whenever someone close is sick or dies. It floats to the forefront as
a reminder whenever I am witness to senseless suffering or sickness or anything
that reminds me of our mortality. It is with us, but it is only magnified on
rare occasion.
He does not say much about it, but we
always exhale together and celebrate the good results. My own self-centered
fear makes it hard to imagine what his own fears must be like. He always gives
me the good advice, the wise words not to dwell or worry uselessly until we
actually know the results, good or bad. He is right, and I have gotten better
at taking this wise advice.
These fear times are both good and bad
for the taking of the spiritual temperature. My greedy heart is ever-present. I
incorrectly consider my husband to be mine.
I am checked and reminded that he is God’s before he is mine. And so are my
children. I am stripped and learn again that my life is not my own. There is a
God and I am not He.
But in the stripping down comes the
blessing of having to face reality in all of its realness.
There is something
freeing in the realness. There are those times when you are faced with whether or not your faith is a charade, or if you really believe what you say you believe.
My life is not my own. I continue on a daily basis to
defer my wants and cravings to God’s perfect will. Time and time again comes
the reminder that I am tiny, needy, scared. Hopeless, helpless, and insane with
sin apart from Divine aid.
We pray along the lines of Oh Lord, take my life and may it glorify
you! But do we ever stop and realize the potential implications of such a
prayer? Do we consider the personal costs that may come, and whether or love is
great enough? Do we mean it and trust Him with the results?
As I muck around in the fear a bit, the
greatest blessing has come in the form of realizing that I actually trust God.
We can say it all day – well, no matter
what happens, I trust God. Even if it’s terrible. God has a plan! Even if my husband dies next month. God knows what’s best for us. Even if my
kid gets hit by a car. Even if…
It’s harder to mean it than it is to say
it. We say lots of things that make little or no actual connection to our
heart. But today I can say I trust God,
even if my husband has cancer again. I trust God, even with all my even-ifs!
It is not an absence of fear. It is not a super-human, super-spiritual
courage. It is not feeling in control. It is not clinging to a false notion
that “everything is going to work out.”
Rather, it is knowing that my God can
manage my fear, that He has taken into account my worst and most out-of-control
emotions, and will care for me. It is simply knowing that God the great
redeemer will redeem all things, that when I am too exhausted to care for
myself, He will make sure I get fed and wrapped up in a warm blanket. It is
trusting that He will be present and be enough if all of my worst fears in life
come true, and He won’t take away His enough-ness just because I don’t handle
everything gracefully or courageously. I will be me and He will be Him.
It is looking to Jesus, to His perfect
obedience and trust which was clearly not absent of struggle.
Lord,
you know my heart, you know my desires and my every thought, nothing is hidden
from you. My prayer today is that You be glorified in my life, no matter what
the personal cost to me may be, not matter how uncomfortable life gets. We know you are with us come what may. Give me
the heart of Jesus who said “not my will, but thy will be done…”
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