Soar

I’ve been diagnosed with anxiety related pain. For the past week I’ve been having constant pain in my chest, it wasn’t indigestion and tests yesterday confirmed my heart and lungs were good. For the last three days I’ve been experiencing pain in different parts of my body, it feels a bit like I’m getting beaten up by an invisible man. The pain itself feels like my brain has recorded every physical pain I’ve felt in my life and everything is just malfunctioning and coming on one after another. So, for example, I’ll get pain exactly like when I fell and scraped my arm as a child followed by an ache across my stomach then a sharp lung pain like from chest infection followed by dull backache, I can feel every pulled muscle every bang and bruise. Tennis elbow will suddenly come on, then a previously healed shoulder injury will keep flaring up and then waves of pain down the backs of my legs and arms with constant pricking of pain on random parts of my body. So bizarre!

Anyway I’m lying in bed now resting and the word “soar” breathed into my heart. How good is Jesus!

But the Helper (Comforter, Advocate, Intercessor—Counselor, Strengthener, Standby), the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name [in My place, to represent Me and act on My behalf], He will teach you all things. And He will help you remember everything that I have told you.” John 14:26

“God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble” Psalm 46:1

Where would I be without Jesus?

I’d be a mess. I’d be angry most of the time, at myself and anyone who was close enough for me to take it out on. I’d be broken inside; chasing every numbing high that could soothe the helpless pitiful feeling. I’d crumble when thick darkness flooded over. I would still have outbursts of self harming. Grief would have overtaken me. I would have sabotaged my marriage a long time ago. I’d be hounded by abandonment and PTSD, consciously and unconsciously it would rule my life. I wouldn’t be able to muster up an ounce of forgiveness. I would be a survivor, not an overcomer. I wouldn’t cope with being a mother because all I’d crave was to be mothered. I would spend so much time nursing my hurts that I wouldn’t have anything left to give. Giving wouldn’t even cross my mind. I would have no desire to control my tongue, I would still be spewing thoughts and talk of all kinds of evil from my heart. I would have no control of what my flesh desired. I’d be cowering to all the demons day and night. Depression would play Russian roulette with me. I’d be held hostage by all forms of fear, scream inwardly and regularly wake up crying. I’d be spiritually dead in the darkness speeding towards my grave. I’d have no idea what deep unshakeable love, peace, freedom and joy was. I would live looking like I had it all together. But Jesus, my rescuer, my healer, my hope, my home, my future, my restorer, my strength, my freedom, my peace, my joy, my gladness, my eternal life. He loved me when I didn’t want to give Him any room in my heart, loved me when I rejected Him, He loved me when I laughed at Him, loved me when the cross was a load of foolishness to me, loved me when my lawless heart chased, did and thought anything that it desired. Loved me until the crushing pain of choosing life without Him became too much and the moment I called to Him He took the burden off my shoulders, scooped me off the rotting floor led me to an open place, gave me the mountain top view of my living. He breathed life into me, poured joy over me, opened my eyes to see, unblocked my ears to hear, gave me a new heart, put His Spirit blazing inside me. Jesus changed EVERHTHING