Tonight as I re-read a chapter and poem by Amy Carmichael, I began to think. My reality is that my illness prevents me from doing so many things on this earth. Things I used to love to do (run, snow ski, hike…) and things I’d love to try or adventures I’d love to go on with our family. Although these realities are difficult, and often bring about a sinful battle for contentment, I’m thankful that my weakness doesn’t impair the ability to fulfill my calling (my sin surely does, but that’s for another blog post!). My single purpose and goal in life is to bring my Savior glory. What a relief!! In God’s kingdom, the one that truly matters, my frailty isn’t a hindrance to living the life that I’m called to live.
“A bruised reed shall He not break: the poorest shepherd boy on our South Indian hills is careful to choose, for the making of his flute, a reed that is straight and fine and quite unbruised. But our Heavenly Shepherd often takes the broken and the bruised, and of such He makes His flutes. But life, like His book, is full of parables of tenderness; and one of these has often come into this room of late. For he whose name means God’s Peace has brought his autoharp to play to me, and has first tuned it while I expectantly waited for the music which I knew would follow the tuning.
Is music to come from our harp? Music of prayer, of praise, of consolation? The strings are relaxed, or perhaps too tensely stretched. Illness can cause either condition. But we have a Tuner.
Tune Thou my harp;
There is not, Lord, could never be,
The skill in me.
Tune Thou my harp,
That it may play Thy melody,
Tune Thou my harp;
O Spirit, breathe Thy thought through me,
As pleaseth Thee.” ~Amy Carmichael, “Rose from Briar
2 Cor. 12:9 “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”