One Little Long Impossible Day
I have not intended such a long silence here in this new year. I’ve been traveling, working, meeting, planning, speaking. Of course the news follows wherever I go. We can’t ever escape the presence of God, thank God, nor it seems can we escape MSNBC, Fox or CNN. They travel in my pocket, my laptop. They’re on every screen in every airport. It’s never good news.
But I have a story that no one else will cover. It’s up to me. I have to tell it because if I tell it with even just a hint of salt and truth, I will recover a day from the Closet of Forgetting, and maybe it will go out, shining, reminding us who’s in charge of this glorious, troubled world and who’s in charge of us. (Don’t I need it too?)
I was just up from a short night’s sleep. I was weary. My back was sore. But I was in Orlando, and it was warm and sunlight-bright outside. Palm trees spread their umbrellas over my hotel room , while back home in Kodiak it was frigid-cold, blizzarding with far more dark than light.
So I was happy. And the Story seminar that started the night before went well. (Do I really get to do this, Lord? Speak about your love of Story, teach others how to write for your glory?) It was a special group: nearly 100 of mostly CRU staff who are part of SO many amazing projects around the world.. Here, just a glimpse of a few . ..
Now today, I had a full day and evening of teaching ahead, from 9 am to 9 pm. It was daunting, but had not God carried me through every other class, every other hard thing, no matter what? I raised my arms for a get-ready-for-the-day stretch. Then “twang.” Pain shot from my back and neck. I bent in half, afraid to breathe. I hung there for a moment, trying to stay calm.
Okay, assess the situation. I tried to move. I had little movement and a lot of pain. What about today? The seminar? I would have to cancel. But I knew I would not. And suddenly it flashed---that somehow satan, (yes, that worm I believe is alive and active in the world, but whom I refuse to give press to) was trying to shut down me and this class. I would not let him.
I sent out a frantic email to the organizers: “Help! I need a Chiropractor!” It was 7:30 am now. While waiting for an answer, bent sideways, I began to dress. (Now I couldn’t wear my lovely heels. It was flat crocs on the ground for me. Oh humble your short self, Leslie!) I put on my makeup, gathered my notes. It would be impossible to teach like this, but I knew God does the impossible every day.
Moments later the emails began to fly back. By 8 am, Jan, my new friend, took me to her chiropractor. He was normally closed at this hour, but he opened up for me. I was x-rayed, stretched, pressed, folded, crunched---all of which took all the faith I could muster. I’ve been healthy and doctor-free nearly all of my life Now---what? Let a stranger collapse me to a pretzel then press with all his weight? Again and again, despite the horrific breaking sounds erupting from my spine? But 40 minutes later I walked out straight. The seminar began on time.
I made it through to lunch. Then I made it to the mid-afternoon break. At the dinner break that night, at 6, I went back to the chiropractor, for more folding, pressing, crunching.
I finished the seminar that night at 8:30. I had nothing left. Not a word, not a twitch of muscle strength. We were all spent. The writers had written, shared, trusted, read like champions. I was so proud of them.
From morning until night, I was able to stand on my feet, to teach, to cajole, to cheer everyone onward in the hard beautiful work of bearing witness to the force of God in our lives. And wasn’t God doing it again, in our very midst? Yes, I had no strength. Yes, my back ached and the day was long, and the writers’ were tired, but God was among us. We knew it. Nothing can stop him.
I’m sending on this story to say two things, dear friends. First, Open the Closet of Forgetting and rescue the moments and days when God showed up so astonishingly. Don’t let those stories die. People need to know what God has done in and through you. (This is one reason my next book is this:
And---one more thing. Don’t be surprised when things get hard. Or impossible. I know this was just one day. Many of you face circumstances much bigger, harder. Here are some words better than mine, from Paul, a man who suffered far more than you or me. But he could keep laboring because of a secret he carried inside:
He labored. He worked. He preached, he loved, he poured himself out to people who wanted mostly to kill him. Yes he got tired but he didn’t stop. Because it was Christ’s energy that propelled him.
The same energy is available to us.
Let’s use it.
Would you share one moment when God impossibly gave you strength?
