It was so terrible I wanted it dead, forgotten:
I buried it and moved on, shooting for the stars
But earth won’t let me fly, gravity I blamed
Until the day He led the way to Golgotha: I shirked
“I don’t want to go that way! I don’t like to go there.”
I knew what waited: death. On He led. I had to choose
To turn my way or follow His way. I was sweating pain
When we came to the tomb. Aghast I stalled
The past I buried alive arose, ferocious, looping,
Stuck on me; stinking, choking, stirring hurt and hate
As I trudged on with my cross on that path where
Obedience marries death. I chose despite my fears
To die in Him than live without. Little did I reckon
The death I feared was my ultimate release:
New life burrowed deeper than the robber, springing
From eternity, finding room in my yielded heart.
Rooted, it trounced regrets and I thrived again.
I love sharing stories of resurrection, of life, of profits, and of all that we consider good. When the Lord leads the way of Gethsemane where death awaits, we often do not see beyond the harrowing experiences of that black Friday. We can’t look far enough to see that Friday is one of those passing days, that Sunday is waiting to emerge. We can’t look far enough to see beyond the flogging and nailing and dying which scares us to the very death we hate to face. New life appears a mirage and resurrection a limp possibility. Despite the fact that 2000 years ago, Calvary proved our fear of death unfounded, yet we fear to go to the place our flesh must return, again and again, if we truly must die and decrease, that the Christ in us may live and increase. That is the story I bring your way today, a recent death of me.
I had gone through what I’d consider a harrowing experience that spanned for years. Agreements were changed last minute when I couldn’t opt out. Despite several defaults and failure of the other party, I couldn’t swing out without incurring more than I was trying to escape. This was a very frustrating position but like a wheel, God would slow me down and steer in different direction I didn’t want to take. There were times I reacted, took a rigid position but it didn’t help matters. In the end, when I would have walked away, I realized I would be cheated out of what was mine and decided to act in advance. I knew God didn’t want me to do what I had planned but I didn’t want to confirm that I was incapable of reaction. I wanted to leave a message behind. I had my way and almost lost my life in the process if not for God.
Long after that, the Lord visited me with visions of the other party and I wasn’t sure why. After the third time, I started asking and probing and it was then He began unearthing unforgiveness, tucked away in my heart for all the unjust treatments I had been meted. I thought it was all settled and in the past, but no. I had been deeply wounded and resentment coiled up inside, bound to strike someday when that memory is stirred, maybe by an innocent person, under different circumstances. As truth dawned, it was a very painful choice I had to make; to obey God, follow Him to Golgotha, surrender my heart and hurts and all, let ‘me’ die at the foot of Christ’s cross; let them all go and lose their hold on me.
When we let God, He digs up past pains that chain us down at appropriate times in order to thoroughly heal and truly release us from what we could be bound to for the rest of our lives without knowing. Things we labeled done, past, over, without realizing that they remain deep sores with seeming healed surfaces. They appear dead and done but they are alive within, undetected, burrowing deeper, churning, thriving, brewing bitterness, waiting for an opportune moment to spill.
Earlier in the revelation, I had said, “Lord, I have forgiven that and I’m forgetting it if only You’d stop bringing it up again and again. I have no business with those folks anymore.” He asked, “Will you be willing to meet with them again?” Of course I said, “No! What for? They are terrible folks and past encounter is enough.” I started out willing to discuss it with God, willing to see His position despite my resolution which I didn’t think was wrong: we should learn from experiences, right? Wrong. Wisdom doesn’t come from experiences – how do you explain repeating the same error for years. We learn from God: He may use our experiences but wisdom comes from God.
That is how many of us are living today, our lives and reactions manipulated by a past we buried alive and which lives on, refusing both to die and to leave us alone. We think change of location or neighbors will work that magic. We think we have successfully put them behind but unknown to us, our actions and reactions in our current environment is largely influenced by the strongman from past that lives and thrives within.
As I hearkened to the prodding of the Holy Spirit and willingly made that Calvary trip with Him, I went past the pains of all that happened, I went past how it made me feel about my offenders and the conclusions I had drawn as a result. I kept going and growing until I came to that place of resurrection where I knew without doubt that if God provides opportunity to meet again, I will face them with a pure heart and kind thoughts; that I will gladly do whatever I have to for them if ever the need arises. No, I didn’t get there by myself. I didn’t even think I needed to go there, and at first, I didn’t want to go there. But the Lord helped me. And this same God is willing and able to help you go past every history and bring you into a newness that is both freeing and refreshing.
Glory!