Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
Philippians 2: 9-11
Puppies are born with their eyelids tightly shut. You probably know this. They don’t start to open until around 14 days. This is a built-in safety measure designed to protect the eyes which are still developing and extremely fragile from things that would harm the eyes – such as dirt or pathogens or even too much light for their eyes to handle. So when the eyes are a little more able to deal with life, they open. A child asked me one time, why don’t we just open the eyes for the puppy? I had to explain that until the eyes are ready to see, it would be harmful to force them to see.
Denial works a little like that. To some degree, it’s a healthy defense mechanism, protecting us from a truth we aren’t able to see and process. At some undefined point, however, it turns from being a healthy defense to an unhealthy one. At some point, good health demands that the eyes open. Good health demands that we face those things that are so easy to hide from.
Someone I love got a diagnosis the other day, the kind that feels like a kick in the gut. Our heads are spinning; we are trying to wrap our brain around it, but it hasn’t been easy. It’s not life threatening, only incredibly life-altering and comes with no easy fix. We are developing strategies to better prepare ourselves for the reality of this diagnosis. Looking back over the past months, I see evidences that point to this diagnosis. Evidences I chose not to see until now when I have no choice. The doctor has spoken the words; I can’t pretend I didn’t hear them. Denial is no longer working in my favor. My eyes are open.
In the space of about 3 days, I went back and forth through the stages of grief – shock, denial, anger and acceptance. I may continue to do that for some time, but right now at this moment, I am grateful for the diagnosis. Grateful to know what we are dealing with instead of trying to ignore symptoms.
The verse above tells me, assures me, that at the name of Jesus every other name that is named must bow its knee. It’s good to have a name, a diagnosis, even better to know that that name will bow its knee to the name of Jesus. I choose to believe that while this may very well be a righteous diagnosis, there is a more righteous prognosis than what the doctor offers – Jesus, our Physician, will have the last word, this diagnosis has a name and that name will bow its knee to the name of my Healer, Jesus.
Jehovah Rapha, You are our healer. You are the Great Physician. Thank You for the doctors You are using in our lives and thank You for Your word which keeps us strong. Be our peace through this trial, our comfort, our defender, have the victory here, have the last word, show Yourself strong in our lives, I ask in Your mighty name, Amen.