Going through the oven (part 2)

I think it was back in October.
I woke up and I knew something was different.

In the deepest part of my heart I realized, there is absolutely nothing I can do apart from Christ.

The allergy I have can have humbling effects.
I am allergic to contact with water.

That means I can't sweat, be outdoors if the humidity is high, get sprinkled with water, have my daughter drool over me or get a bath or shower.

That means I can't lose weight because of exercise, nor fix my hair, bathe my daughter, use lotion, go to the zoo or to playdates, take a swim or feel clean.

That means I didn't want people to be near me, visit me, touch me (specially my hair) . I didn't want to attend church or have any friends really.


Then I knew, I understood, that God really cares about me. That he didn't want me to be with him because of anything I could bring, but because He loves me. It didn't matter where I was at in my life, it matter where He was.

It wouldn't have mattered if I was in pain or not, if I was looking good or not, if my emotions were in track or not. It mattered that He died, and that by being risen from the dead He opened the doors for us to have access to the Father. That through His doings I was adopted as a daughter of the Most High.


It still hurts, every day.
When I smell someone that has a nice scent, or when I hear my friends going to spas or losing weight. When they play songs at church about "being washed by the water of the spirit" or when there's a playdate outdoors.

But then, the knowledge of my unworthiness meets with the beautiful promises that He makes. That we will spend eternity with Him. That we will receive new bodies.. that have no allergies, no pain, no suffering.



Today I received a call.
It was a mom, wanting to get together with me. Just to spend some time together.
She doesn't know that it has been years since someone has invited me to spend time with them. Tim and I receive invitations together, but it's been too long since they called me.



I now wonder how Paul felt. Knowing that he wasn't good enough to bring the good news of Jesus Christ. Recognizing his unworthiness... and then being able to say "for it is not me, but Christ that lives in me"... enduring every day the "thorn" that tormented him (whatever that was, it couldn't have been pleasurable) and being absolutely sure that God was bigger and better than what he could possibly grasp.
Leaving himself or whatever he could bring besides to engage in a God-given mission, diminishing as God increased.

I now know that no matter how much pain I could possibly have, it couldn't be compared to the one that Jesus suffered in the cross... for our sake.

to be continued...

Ceci White