What was it like?

Do you ever just sit and ponder what something must have been like?  There are so many amazing events in history that I've wondered about before.  What was it like, for instance, to actually hear Abraham Lincoln speak?  What was it like to hear Martin Luther King, Jr give his "I have a dream" speech?  What was it like to be the first man on the moon?  

And then, I wonder, what was it like to encounter Jesus?  What was it like to stand in his presence, to hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know that to be in his shadow was more powerful than anything you've ever known?  What was that like?

This week I saw my doctor and he commented on the size difference in my legs.  Clearly, my right leg is stronger, my left leg is weaker.  I have regained so much, and yet there is still so far to go.  He measured the circumference of my quads: my right quad measures at 16 inches, my left quad, well 12.5 inches.  My calves are the same circumference, which tells me that I am regaining muscle.  

This morning, though, as I caught a glimpse of my legs in the mirror I wondered, "What was it like to be the man with the withered hand?"  What was it like to have Jesus just heal that...instantly?

Mark chapter 3 tells us this:  "(1)Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there with a withered hand. (3)And he said to the man with the withered hand, "Come here."  (5)..."Stretch out your hand."  He stretched it out, and his hand was restored."

As much as I know in my heart that every day I continue on this road to healing there is a purpose in the length of the journey, as much as I know that I am being healed day by day, as much as I know this is serving to bring him glory, as much as I know these things, still I wonder what it must have been like?  What was it like to have a withered hand and to have it restored immediately?  

My leg is far from withered, but I have had a couple of people mention my limp.  It is barely noticeable to me, now, but still other people see it.  I wonder, what it would be like to stretch out my leg and just simply have it fully restored, immediately.

Even though a miraculous, instantaneous, perfect healing sounds beyond magnificent to me right now, I know that everything my God does has a purpose.  The purpose in healing the man's hand was to show the Pharisee's their hardened hearts.  The purpose in letting Jacob walk away with a limp was to serve as a reminder that he had, in fact, wrestled with God.  The purpose of not removing the thorn from Paul's side was to keep him from becoming conceited.  

Whether we are relieved of our temporary sufferings or whether we are allowed to continue in them for a period of time, we must trust that there is a purpose.  As much as I would love to just be healed and whole again, I know that there is a greater plan for this course in my life.  I cannot see what is at the end of this journey, I can only walk the path I am given today and trust that God will be glorified in the things I say and do, thin and feel, hope for and desire.  Knowing full well that "all things work together for good for them that love the lord..." Even this...

Only By His Grace,

Billie