faith moves, period.

I believe I can climb and tear off the roof. Not by my own strength. Good grief, there is no way. But by faith? Absolutely. And to some, to others I speak to who insist it is not possible...who gently encourage that more must come into play, things other than God....I continue and will always disagree. Not completely. I understand that there are things necessary to healing that go beyond prayer. But getting there? Getting to that other necessary thing? Often, that requires incredible and constant prayer. But even so I hold on tight to this hope and belief that nothing is impossible for God.

Because you see, I believe in the miracle. And I believe that if I can just get a few more hands to help me tear off this roof and lower the pain, the brokenness, the hurting, the sinful, the lost, the confused, the heart and the soul that has gone awry...then by this faith, there will be the miracle. By this faith, we will see for ourselves the healing.

I might be making no sense at all.

These are the rambling thoughts of an exhausted woman on a Friday morning after moving into her home while writing a book all the while wearing the skin off of her fingers as she tries to pry the roof off.

Still confused?

I am reflecting big time on today's Gospel. Mark 2:1-12. It is one of my favorites. And I just read it three times in a row because I want to remember each word, every action. You should too. Because my guess is...since I am nothing unusually special here but just an ordinary sinner who on occasion has been an extraordinary sinner...that perhaps you too will see yourself in this story. That perhaps you too will see someone you love in this story. That perhaps you too will see similar sickness and sin and desperation for healing that comes from true authority, real power, in this story. It is the story of four friends who carry their paralytic friend to Jesus but can not get anywhere close to Him because of the crowd.

Because of the crowd. Might be my favorite line in the entire Bible.

But these friends believe so much in Jesus and His healing that they do not give up and they go up to the roof top and the break through it. With their hands, they tear the roof off.

They opened up the roof above him. Maybe this is my favorite line in the entire Bible.

And then, on his mat, they lowered their friend down to Jesus. The friend who was not able to get to Jesus on his own. And can you imagine the strength and muscle this required? The courage? The determination? The trust? The faith? I'd love to meet these fantastic four.

You know, I think the hardest thing I have suffered through to date is not my own inability to get myself to Jesus, but my lack of strength and faith in getting a loved one to meet Him. To get someone unable to move on his own just a little bit closer to Him. My own inability to carry the one who is too paralyzed by sin or illness or the crowd, into the healing arms of Jesus. And so after weeks of carrying boxes and cleaning ovens and toilets and scrubbing floors layered in enormous filth all in the name of getting my security deposit back, I have had this amazing gift of time alone in an empty house that needs purging. Time to work and to scrub and to cry and to reflect on this crazy journey God has put me on...on this seemingly horrific path he continues to carry me through. Did you catch that? He carries me. And if He carries me, then am I not called to carry others? Why it took a filthy bathroom and hours of disinfecting to get me to realize that this path of suffering is my way to reach out to others...that this burden I carry is a gift meant to be shared, is beyond me. But it did. And if we hadn't moved at this specific time, well then maybe, I would have missed out on this gift. Maybe I would have missed out on helping carry you.

Our suffering has purpose you know. How we steward our pain makes all the difference. How we carry ourselves and others through the chaos and pain is important. Life saving, actually.

So that is what I am doing and will continue to do, no matter how impossible and heavy this load feels. I will carry. And if the crowd continues to stand in my way then yes, I will climb to the roof and open it up. And in my prayer time this morning and in this rambling that I am still not convinced anyone but God can follow I want you to know this. I want you to know that if you are staring at a loved one paralyzed on their mat, and you yourself feel too broken by this situation to lift them to healing, let alone to lift yourself out of bed....I AM PRAYING FOR YOU. And prayers, sweet friends, are the hands that help carry. I know that so much in life can feel hopeless. I know this all too well. But I'm telling ya'....the story does not end with the loved one still on the mat. It ends with him picking it up and walking away.

And everyone will look at you and your faith and say, "We have never seen anything like this."

You know, something I just learned this week that has made all the difference is this. I do not have to be out of the woods, with everything in order and everyone well and all things finally in place to be at peace or to have joy. I do not have to have everyone healed and everything whole to glorify God and believe in His power. Because there is something about being in the brokenness and resting in the open wounds...something about recognizing that while restoration and redemption might not yet be here, the journey to it holds beauty in and of itself. Ann Voskamp writes, "What seems to be undoing you can ultimately remake you." We are being remade. How I love that and believe that.

Still, not confident you get what I am saying. Forgive me if this is all over the place.

Maybe I can try to be a good writer, and wrap this up in a few sentences that makes sense?

Real faith comes into play when you truly let go of yourself and rely on God. True faith came alive for me this week when I stopped arguing God's plan and recognized that HIS plan IS my plan. This is the role given to me because I am the only one for it. And so I can not allow things like crowds or roofs to stand in my way. And neither should you. But remember, none of us are called to carry our burdens alone. None of us. And so know that if you are having difficulty today carrying out the plan God has designed for you....you are not alone. There are friends who can help. There are Saints you can call on. There are people like me that will pray for you. There are tortilla chips and salsa at the grocery store. We ARE strong enough you know. And there is no one too broken, too frozen, too out of control, or too heavy on their mat to be moved closer to Jesus. NO ONE.

This move into my new home is the 10th move in 20 years. Yup. We move more than a military family. And each time I realized we had to move again I would cry to my husband, "I just can't move anymore."

But guess what? I can. And I did.

Faith moves, period.

It moves us to hard places that force necessary growth. It moves us into the light and the dark, and reveals the truth. It moves us to open our eyes, ask for help, drop to our knees. It give us the strength and the muscle we never knew we had and it uses us as a part of God's mission, to climb high and to carry those who can not see Jesus at all. It moves us and remakes us and reminds us that this life of ours is all His. It moves us around the crowd and finds a way in so that all will be astounded.

We can climb, sweet friends. We can open up roofs, pick up our mats and walk away healed.