We were all home for an "ice day". The streets glazed, branches coated, cars sliding, kids skating. Not a typical "snow day", nonetheless everyone was home. No school. No work.
Honestly, a favorite kind of day, except for the fact that we can't all go out in our snow boots with sleds and do the kind of fun that doubles as gym time. Rather, I made brunch. Pioneer Woman cinnamon rolls, maple bacon and eggs kind of brunch. Forget the gym. Ok...until 4 PM when the guilt sets in and because it's closed, I wallow and run stairs.
In taking the beautiful cinnamon rolls out of the oven, I used a hot pad that had holes in it and burned my middle finger on the glazed ceramic dish. I kept it on ice most of the day.
Ice Day.
A similar thing had happened a couple months ago. I again had made breakfast for the family on a Sunday morning before church and in the process, burned the side of my hand. The kind of burn that is not very visible to others, but is deep and throbbing and lasting regardless. I again put it on ice to numb the area, so not to feel.
I brought the ice pack to church with me. During the worship, during the message and in all of our interactions...I was on ice, literally. Numbed out.
While sitting in my seat with ice pack clenched in hand, I considered figuratively:
How often do we all come into church "on ice"? How often do we engage all of life “on ice“? So not to feel?
I'm guilty. Sometimes it is overwhelming to really feel. To be tender, warm and open. To be filled with unadulterated childlike Wonder. Open to the work of the Holy Spirit on our hearts. Warm to the truth of Gods word. Tender to the love and power of Jesus. Vulnerability is scary and I usually cry. I don't want to cry.
So I ice it.
Life has a way of removing the wonder that we were created to live with. If we really saw, if we really knew, if we really understood how “out of this world” amazing, loving, pursuing, astounding our God is, our hearts would be filled with awe and wonder for HIM!
So I pray, petition, contend for that position of heart. Hard as it may be- “Lord make me like a child again.”
Though the ice numbs my physical burn and I'm buying time for the wound to heal, a numbed heart will never heal or experience the true vulnerability it takes to Wonder at Jesus. We don't buy time. We must acknowledge wounds, burns, disappointment and heartbreak. They happened to us - and we have a WONDERful healer who wants to take them onto himself.
We feel in order to be healed.
Over different seasons of life I've been icy. An ice queen. Elsa....and it's prison. It's cold.
Unclenched I released my grip on that ice pack. I let a glimmer of light fill my eyes. I allow warmth to thaw my heart. That deep, throbbing and lasting pain will be oh so evident. Brought to the surface. But...
"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds" Psalm 127:3NIV
And I wonder again.
Your friend,
Rachel