Dear Jesus,
It’s the second Sunday of Advent. A season of joy. A season when we reflect on your arrival in the nativity scene, and all that your arrival will mean and has meant to the world. I’ve borrowed a song from Maverick City Music to help with my own personal reflections this month. They have a song, maybe you’ve heard of it 😊 - it’s called Fear is Not My Future. In the song, the writers make four proclamations: Fear is not my future, you are. Sickness is not my story, you are. Heartbreak’s not my home, you are. Death is not the end, you are. This morning, I want to reflect on the second proclamation; sickness is not my story, you are. Maybe no other story swamps the stories of our human experience more than sickness. No matter how well our own experience may be moving along, nothing derails it quicker than sickness. Physical illnesses and diseases and diagnoses. Addictions. Mental health struggles. Nothing leaves us feeling as helpless and without control as sickness. In many ways, Jesus, one would look at me and conclude that I've lived a pretty healthy life. But you know, and I know, I've spent a lot of my life wondering, am I sick? It's a tough question to wrestle with. Because again, nothing slows the progress of the human experience, nothing steals its joy, like sickness. I recently read something Matthew Perry wrote in his memoir, Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing. Perry said, "The idea of being famous, the idea of being rich, the idea of being me - I can't enjoy any of it unless I'm high. And I can't think of love without wanting to be high. I lack a spiritual connection that protects me from those feelings. It's why I'm a seeker." You have always known, Jesus, haven't you? That there is a seeker in all of us. This thirst for healing we all carry with us to varying degrees. You have always known that meeting us in the stories of our sickness was the most powerful way to introduce us to the story of you. In the book of Matthew (4:24-25), the bible tells us: news about (Jesus) spread all over Syria, and people brought to him all who were ill with various diseases, those suffering severe pain, the demon-possessed, those having seizures, and the paralyzed; and he healed them. Large crowds from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea and the region across the Jordan followed him. Large crowds of seekers, just like Perry. And when you had the seekers all gathered together, in one place, you loved on them. And you told them: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Like Perry, Jesus, I have sought this spiritual connection to protect me from the feelings, from the question, am I sick? And I have found it. I have found it in a baby in a manger. In a man on a mountain top. A man filled with a loving reminder, that no matter what my illness, no matter what my disease, no matter what my addiction, no matter what my struggle, you are here. The baby in a manger left that manger and spoke from a mountain top and climbed onto a cross and rose out of a grave and ascended to heaven all as a reminder - a FOREVER reminder - that in the story of the manger, I can have comfort. I can have mercy. I can have the kingdom of God, where I will see the baby in a manger in real life. And this Advent season, Jesus, I so thank you for that. Sickness would be unimaginable without you. Sickness would be my only story. But Christmas is such a beautiful reminder that is just not true. It is not my story. You are.
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Robert "Keith" CartwrightI am a friend of God, a dad, a runner who never wins, but is always searching for beauty in the race. Archives
February 2025
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