For the last couple of weeks I’ve been fighting with a terrible pain that has developed in my right elbow and forearm. I don’t know if it is a mild case of tendinitis or if I’ve just strained it using the computer mouse too much… ha ha… whatever it is, it hurts and has disrupted my life in a variety of small ways. So I’ve been taking aspirin or a pain reliever every day to help ease the discomfort and make my work and life bearable.
This got me thinking though about how I used to think medicine was such a miracle. When I was a little girl I was always amazed that no matter my ailment the medicine always knew where to go to make me feel better and fix me right up. This puzzled my young little mind. You consume a pill or a teaspoon of something and in an hour or so the pain in your stomach, or your sore throat, or the throbbing from a scraped knee was all but a memory.
Of course, now as an adult I understand the science behind it and that actually through digestion it absorbs into your bloodstream and travels all over your body – not really targeting any one specific problem but rather helping your entire body.
However, I have thought about how the medicine of our lives can come in many shapes and forms.
Obviously there is the medicine for our physical bodies. But what about the medicines for our hearts, our minds, our souls?
I mean, I would consider my friends to be a good source of medicine. They always know how to make me feel better. It seems the idea of medicine that they fulfill is the one that I held as a child. They are little miracle workers that can always tell when I’ve been hurt or I’m feeling down. They seem to know just what to do to make me feel better. Whether it’s to tell a joke or change the subject, let me cry or know when I may need to be alone. The medicine they provide is a targeted and specific cure for whatever is ailing my heart and my mind.
My mother is good medicine. I suppose she understands me at a deeper level than probably anyone else on this earth. She always knows exactly what I need and when I need it. Whether physical or otherwise, my mother has always been my constant IV drip which has provided healing for my body, mind, and heart all my life.
With all that medicine in my life it’s a wonder that I could ever be sick, hurt, sad, angry, or have any other ailment for very long.
But there is a medicine we all need. The only one that can heal our soul completely and wholly. By trusting in God and His promises we are given the true medicine of our lives. Not the medicine of my childhood that targets specific problems on a temporary need-only basis, but the kind that flows through your bloodstream. It is the long-lasting, absorption-prone kind that gets into your heart and strengthens your soul, your entire being.
I struggle with this.
I think back to a time when my mother once tried to give me Robitussin for the first time. The burning sensation was too strong for me and I spit it back out, all over the kitchen, making a huge mess that my mom was left to clean up.
I find myself many times, rejecting God’s word in much the same way. I try to accept it, but my stubborn nature doesn’t acclimate to the burning in my heart and the ache I feel to change my ways. I end up spitting it back out and making a huge mess on my own.
I know that I have to find God’s promises to me. I need to search for those answers wholeheartedly and seek His guidance and wisdom. And when I do find the answers I seek, I need to digest them and let them absorb into my heart and soul. Only then can I find the relief from my deeper ailments, the ones that hold me back and disrupt my walk with Him. Only then can I find my one true remedy.