In His Name Devotionals
PEACE AND REST
In His Name Devotionals
PEACE AND REST
“That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death.” (Phil. 3:10 KJV)
Our first meeting was at the VA hospital. Jim had already gone through the classic stages of shock, bargaining, and denial; having reached the anger phase. His first words were: “I hate the idea of living my life as a quadriplegic. I hate the loneliness and depression and desperately want out.” There was a song book handy, and somewhere in between boxes of Kleenex we managed to find the words: “Jesus keep me near the cross; there a precious fountain, Free to all a healing stream—flow from Calvary’s mountain. In the cross, in the cross, be my glory ever; Till my raptured soul shall find rest beyond the river.” The first visit wasn’t long, but promises were made to correspond.
Jim wrote a letter that very day: “Me, bear a cross? I hate the idea of taking up a cross, especially one that belongs to someone else. What’s that got to do with my problems? Well, I’ve read that verse in Philippians 3 over and over, and frankly why would anyone want to become like Christ in his death? I don’t even know what that means. I have some questions for you. Does becoming like Christ in His death mean to die to the sins He died for? Does it mean that I need to take up my cross just like He took up His? If I can somehow put my anger and resentment behind me, will I become like Him in His death? How do I become like Him in death? Can I die to the sorts of sins that have gripped my heart for so long?”
The feeble response: “Jim, if you want peace, hope, and rest, then you have to lay that heavy load of resentment at the foot of the cross. Once you have become like Christ in His death, then you will fully experience His life!”
Months went by—no word. Then Jim responded: “Somehow God stood my suffering on its head and used it like a jackhammer to break apart my rocks of resistance. God turned it upside down and used it to sandblast me to the core, leaving me bare. Then He bonded me to Jesus. This wheelchair is now my ally. It’s the sheepdog that snaps at my heels. It forces me down the road to Calvary. It’s now forcing me to stay near the cross. I’ve now left my anger in the dust. Everyday I thank God and sing, ‘Jesus, keep me near the cross.’”
The cross is the power of God. It is there He confides in those who fear Him. It is at the cross where you find the secret things that belong to the Lord. It is there you are sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; having nothing, yet possessing everything (2 Cor. 6:10). It is at the cross where all things are yours and “you are of Christ, and Christ is of God” (1 Cor. 3:23). At the foot of the cross you find peace and rest.
The wheelchair is empty. Jim has now found complete peace and rest.
