I've always loved the story of the woman with the issue of blood. It vividly reminds me that God is passionate about healing my heart and not just my body. Reading through that passage in Mark again recently, I noticed something new. Or rather, I saw something familiar in a completely different way.
The woman pressed through the crowd on her hands and knees to get to Jesus. She reached out and grabbed the hem of His garment, and in that moment she was instantly healed.
And in that moment, Jesus felt power go out of Him.
That's what made Him stop and look for the one who touched Him. That's what prompted the dialogue that brought healing to her heart. That's when He looked her in the eyes and called her "Daughter".
I'd never thought too much about that moment for Jesus, until now.
There He was... Walking with a synagogue ruler as a large crowd pressed all around Him... It was noisy and busy and... Suddenly He felt something...
He felt power go out of Him as soon as she touched Him.
It's unavoidable: Ministry is draining.
If Jesus felt the effects of it, I sure as heck will.
Serving others, speaking God's truth, and sharing our lives, tires us out. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. We feel it when we spend ourselves for others.
Even when we are doing what we love.
Maybe even more so when we are doing what we love. Because then we have to force ourselves to take a break.
At least I do.
I've been going non-stop for months now---doing exactly what I love doing. And I've felt the "power" go out of me in every way possible. I'm exhausted inside and out. So I'm taking some much-needed time off.
My heart is so looking forward to this selah.
I need to start paying more attention to what (and who) drains me, as well as what (and who) refuels me. I need to be more intentional about creating margin in my schedule and my life.
I want to be more proactive about letting Him fill me up than I am about sharing Him with others.
Maybe that sounds backwards or selfish. I just know that when I'm not overflowing, I really don't have much to give anyway.
So I'm taking some time for me. (Which, I should point out, is never an easy thing for me to do.)
But I know it's needed. And I know it's right.
Selah, friends. Selah.
What does "selah" look like to your heart? What and who refuels you?