When God Makes Himself At Home

hawthorn leaves

A woman writes
about the silent sacrifice
on an altar no one sees
and I'm left to ponder
how the cross of
chronic illness
can be that way, too.
It's only me inside this body,
seeing, feeling, carrying
all this weight--
only me and Him.

Now I'm pondering
fragile earthen jars and
the way flesh and bones
can become the
House of God.
Maybe the only sacrifice
is His--
the One Who lays it all down
to make Himself at home
in the broken body
of His beloved.

Linking up a few days late with Ann Voskamp


  1. "the One Who lays it all down to make Himself at home in the broken body of His beloved--what a beautiful line! He is indeed at home in you.

    i'm really sorry that you have been given such a heavy cross to bear. yes, it's only you and Him "inside this body". but i very much hope it's *not* just you and Him "carrying all that weight". you're part of the body of Christ, and as members of that body, we are meant to carry each other's burdens(Galatians, 6:2). my prayer is that your family and your friends (near or far) will be privileged to take at least a little of the weight of your cross off your shoulders...

    1. @chris: Thank you, as always, for words of wisdom here. I am pondering your thoughts on the body of Christ, trying to sort out what it really means to be the "body part" with chronic illness in the context of the larger body of Christ.

      In truth, I likely do not have as many near supporters as I need in this journey, but I think what I am trying to express here is the fact that there are huge pieces of the chronic illness experience that can't be carried by anyone else. In a sense, people can carry *me*--but they cannot carry my symptoms. Only I can choose to "bear up" under them and accept the sacrifice of living with illness. I am so very grateful, though, for the sacred few who are upholding me in prayers and Grace words, who are not turned away by the constancy of my illness, who do not think less of me because I am not physically well. I count you among those sacred few and all I can do is offer meager words of thanks--and pray that God will return the immense grace you have extended to me.

  2. Beautiful! Praying here for the effectiveness of your new treatment continued progress toward health. May the Lord give you surprising joy even in your mandatory overtime this weekend. Love you friend.

    1. @tinuviel: Thank you, always, for prayers. I know you, too, carry the cross of chronic illness and I am so thankful for your companionship on this long, hard road. There *has* been joy this weekend, with sunshine and baking and laughter. Praying you, too, are finding joy in the midst of busyness and hard days. Love to you.

  3. I feel like I'm "standing on Holy ground" as I read your post today Courtney!What is it about suffering that causes such great intimacy with our Savior? I don't pretend to understand! All I know is that He is nearer than near & He does indeed live in our frail bodies. It's enough for me & I say GLORY! Love & prayers, in Jesus, Cynthia

    1. @CynthiaJSwenson: Thank you, Friend, for kind words. I don't understand it either, except that maybe suffering is what pierces the holes in our jars of clay, lets us glimpse right into His Glory. Although the suffering is hard and I'm not always grateful for it, there is gift in it if we are willing to peer into our broken places and find Him there. Grace to you, Friend, on whatever road He is taking you!


Post a Comment