The Stand: In Christ Alone

It has been a long month.

Year.

Since just before January, it has felt like one thing after another. Tiny pebbles of irritation dropping on our heads — T.J. had a major dental infection that put us more than $1,000 in the hole (and was incredibly painful); my back has been continually inflamed since the New Year, the chiropractor offering just days of relief between appointments (at $35 a pop).

I had an eye infection that took more than three months to clear up. T.J.'s migraines have acted up. My car continually has weird issues.

And then, finally, the big rock: T.J. was diagnosed with diabetes just over a week ago, after feeling awful for at least a month. A night in the hospital, a mounting pile of prescriptions and he finally is starting to feel better.

But I've given in to the weight of it all. The exhaustion from all the little pebbles was already wearing on me before the boulder hit. Now, I feel flattened.


Then there is the barrage of shallow conversations, repetitious questions and unwanted advice. "How are you doing?" "How is TJ?" "Does anyone in your family have diabetes?" "You know, my uncle Joe is a diabetic and he just swears by ..." "Have you tried taking cinnamon tablets?" "You know you should give up gluten."


I haven't had the strength to smile and nod at all these people. I have become a serious bitch. I cut people off. I give a brisk, "He's fine." and put my headphones back on. Sometimes, there isn't even music on the other end. Just sweet, sweet silence.

In the mountain of my life, this emergency isn't one of my top. It's a big deal, yes. It's life changing, yes. But it leads to a healthier T.J., a healthier me and forces us to be more conscious of our diet. Really, a blessing in disguise.

And yes, Jesus takes care of us. I know, at the end of the day, that we will be OK. I know because I've seen it over and over and over in my life. God is faithful. And 2012 isn't the year that He abandons T.J. and me.

Yet I sat in bed last night and cried because I didn't want to go to church. Because I'm so tired of dealing with people and being treated as broken. I'm so tired of the endless questions, the concern, no matter how genuine. I am crushed by care and the well-intentioned.

But this morning I sucked it up and went to church. I sat down without talking to anyone and just prayed no one talked to me. I knew I needed to sit and be with Jesus this morning. Because as I've tried to push away others, I've also pushed away God. My rock and my comforter has been pushed to the outside because I so badly want to be alone in my head.

So this morning Jesus came and sat in church with me. And worship was amazing. Everything I needed to hear. We sang an updated classic, "In Christ Alone."

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm

What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

To someone who has felt flattened, the idea of standing challenged me. Can I stand? I know that God will carry me through — but what if He's asking me to stand in this one, and walk with him? What if my lesson in all of this is that I can stand, even in my exhaustion?

No power of hell, no scheme of man
Could ever pluck me from His hand
Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I stand

I think these lyrics need a tweak. Or at least some punctuation. Reading them now, I feel like they are saying I am standing here with the power and love of Christ, as if it's a companion on the journey. Which is perhaps how Natalie Grant meant it.

But this morning, I knew that His love and power was the only thing that had me standing at all.

No power of hell, no scheme of man
Could ever pluck me from His hand
Til He returns or calls me home
Here  — by the power of Christ —  I stand.

So I will not be defeated by the little pebbles, or the big rocks. I am not flattened. I can stand. I am standing. Because Jesus gives me that ability. To stand in the face of my enemies and my trials. At times, to do nothing else.

Standing — not quitting, not backing down — is enough.