The Narrative of Freedom and Vengance

Christ healing the Paralytic at the Pool of Bethesda (1667-70),

Oil On Canvas, by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo

"Christ extends his hand to a paralysed old man at the healing baths of Bethesda, miraculously curing him (Gospel of John). An angel, wreathed in golden light, blesses the waters from the sky above. Murillo made this large painting - one of a series of six that show acts of charity - for the church of the Confraternity of the Caridad in Seville, of which he was a member." The National Gallery, London. 

The Narrative of Freedom and Vengance

When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?” John 5:6

There comes a time when one must decide if you want to remain the wounded. 

        For a while, it was necessary. When the blows have just fallen and when the betrayal still stings fresh; when the tears have not yet dried, it is right to weep, to grieve and to seek the arms of those who comfort.

But eventually, the world moves on. And I must decide.

Decide,to rise up or remain on the ground.

Decide,if I will let my pain become my name and for my history to become my chains.

Decide, if I will sit by the pool, waiting for someone to carry me into healing, or will I stand, trembling and walk?

               There is a man, whose heart has been made of iron. Once, it was made of flesh, but the years hardened it, year by year, excuse by excuse, until nothing soft remained. He carries his rage like a torch, walking through his life setting fire to everything that reminds him of his own failings.        

               A man who clings to his chains with both hands. A man who sees healing and calls it weakness. A man who mistakes destruction for power. Nobody can soften him. Nobody can make him see. Nobody can make him love. He is a man who once believed in goodness. He once dreamed of love that could redeem. He once held hope in his hands and called it his future.

        But now, he holds vengeance instead. And he calls it justice. He holds bitterness. And he calls it wisdom. He holds hatred, but he calls it strength. There is a man in the mirror he no longer recognizes. His eyes are cold. His words are sharp. His soul is heavy with the weight of every grudge he has chosen to carry. But he does not stop. He cannot stop. Because to stop would mean facing the mirror. To stop would mean seeing the man he has become. 

And he is not yet ready. 
Even now, the voice of the Savior speaks, "Do you want to be healed?”

        But his hands are too full of blame and fury to take hold of the healing. And so, he clutches his wounds instead, calling them his truth, his proof and his rights. But there will come a day when the fire of vengeance will burn out.And perhaps in that hour, he will finally look at his hands.And see that he was holding nothing all along. And maybe, just maybe, he will fall to his knees,and cry out for the mercy he once rejected.

        And the God he mocked will still answer. Because Jesus is not like either of us. He does not carry a grudge.He carried the cross. He is waiting for our answer. He is waiting for my answer.

        I may have been wronged. I may have been crushed. I may have been betrayed. But I am not the wound. I am not the bruises on my soul. And no matter how convincing the voice of injustice sounds, it does not get to tell me who I am.

So I will rise.

Not with bitterness in my chest or vengeance in my hands. But with a quiet and defiant freedom.

       Yes, I may always carry the scar. But I can choose not to spend my life tending the injury, simply keeping it alive so I can show it to the world. I will choose not to be the woman who forever points to her pain. 

        I will be the woman who points to her healing. And when they ask me how I survived, I will not show them my scars. I will show them my wings.

“Do you want to be healed?”

Yes Lord. I do want to be healed. 

I surrender. 

My pride, my sword, my fear and my shame

I surrender my all.

Then Jesus said , “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” 

At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.