Lord, I Want You To Stretch Me, But Gee Whiz! I am convinced that every physician out there has their own method of torture. My sweet husband is a pediatrician. He loves kids and has committed his life to healing and preventing diseases in children. Most of his patients love him and treat him like a rock star when they see him in public. Okay, maybe not a rock star, but someone who definitely is on their short list of good people. Last summer he even had to sign a baseball one of his patients caught at the local ball game. I often wonder why they like him so much since they are often tortured when they go to see him. The perfect example of this is what our family lovingly calls the “snot sucker”. You take your little sick innocent to the doctor promising that he’ll soon feel better and the next thing he knows a tube is up the nose sucking any loose brain matter out to check for influenza. And on top of that, if you do test positive for influenza they tell you to go home because they can’t do anything for you. This is one of the most popularly used torture devices for all ages by the way. My own children used to beg me to see a “real doctor” because they were afraid of any torture devices Daddy may have been hiding. My middle daughter, Robyn, kicked poor Scott in the leg and refused to speak to him for a week when she was two and he was checking for an ear infection. It didn’t feel the way that it should to her. In her mind it was one of Daddy’s doctor tortures. Thus to keep the peace, and to keep my husband ethically in tact, we did spend many visits to another loving pediatrician who, much to my daughters’ distress had methods of pain giving all her own.
Even the Ear, Nose and Throat doctor, who you think would be safe since no clothing has to be removed to be seen, proved my point. After suffering for a month with laryngitis I went to visit my favorite ENT. After giving me a sense of false confidence he proceeded to wrap my tongue in gauze, grab it with his fist and pull it to the other side of the room. Once this was accomplished he asked me several questions. The conversation went something like this:
Doctor: “How long has this been going on?”
Me: “uh muth”
Doctor: “Have you tried any over the counter remedies?”
Me: “uh duh the cuh dops”
Doctor: “I see. OK, well now I’m going to look back here and see what I can see. I would like you to repeat the alphabet for me so that I can take a good look.”
Me: “Uh, eh, ee, ee, ee, uhf…” Well, you get the idea.
The problem is we don’t grow away from this. In fact I’m convinced the older we get the more creative the torture schemes become. After all you can’t fool us as easily as you once could. What is really amazing to me, however, is that we actually volunteer for these torture sessions. Cases in point: the mammogram and the colonoscopy. Let’s start with the mammogram. I would like to know what kind of warped mind sat up all night thinking this one up. You start your adventure in a cute little gown tied in the front for easy access. Then you go into the dimly lit room and look nonchalantly at the ceiling while someone you’ve never met loads you up like a piece of meat onto a plastic ledge and sets the machine to “squeeze” and then to “squeeze harder”. It was a major eye opener to me the first time that I had a mammogram to realize that I could stretch that far! It seemed like a few pounds of pressure in a vise like machine and all of a sudden a very special part of my body was in the next county. Fascinating that it could be so flat, too! Kind of reminded me of silly putty. I like to live in an imaginary world sometimes so I found myself contemplating the possibility of smashing both sides at once and being able to tie them in a bow. That might be kind of interesting, don’t you think? And it doesn’t matter how much flesh you have to start with, during those few minutes each one of us seems to have an abundance of stretchy stuff protruding from our chest. Now this wouldn’t be so bad I suppose if I wasn’t short and standing on my tip toes, (you tall gals might have an advantage here) or if the smushing didn’t sometimes take my breath away. I love the way every technician asks, “Are you doing ok?” Don’t you just want to say, “Yeah, this is great. I look forward to this every year. Could I come back in six months next time since I’m having so much fun?” But because our mothers taught us that if you can’t say something nice you shouldn’t say anything at all (quoted from Thumper, Bambi’s friend) we tend to smile and manage a weak, unconvincing “Yes”.
Ah the challenges of being stretched. It’s not always comfortable, is it? Yet, as you and I both know there are many ways that life stretches us, not just physically, but also emotionally and spiritually. Some experiences aren’t so bad. We marry, have children, grandchildren, and gain sons in law and daughters in law. We travel. We find careers. We stay home and raise children. Sometimes we do both. We retire. We work in the community. We laugh and live and move through each day all the while being stretched by God.
The thing about stretching is that even though as Christians we know in our heads that each experience that affects us is not a surprise to God, it sometimes hurts in a very real way. He sometimes places us or allows us to be placed in situations that make us wonder how we are going to survive. It’s like a maze. You walk into the entrance not knowing how you will ever find the way out. You turn this way and that, you seek advice and short cuts, but until you find the right direction you are stuck in the maze not being able to see beyond the walls placed in front of you. It is only when you are on the other side and standing high above the maze looking down that you can see where you went right and where you went wrong. The pull of successful voices and the desire to persevere may have been the only thing that kept you from giving up and remaining in the maze forever.
Is God stretching you right now? Each one of us has a story. Are you facing physical challenges; more than just the usual aging process? Perhaps your maze involves a relationship that has gone so very wrong. Betrayal, fear for the future, running from the past, depression, addiction, and simple daily survival all stretch us sometimes to the point of breaking. But the lesson from the mammogram is that we can be stretched beyond our wildest imaginations and still survive. And like the mammogram can warn of impending disease so the stretching can warn and prepare us for the trials of life still lying ahead on our own mystery journey. God can take you and me further than we ever thought. He walks with us through the maze and gently holds us up when we feel hopeless. Stretching brings us closer to God when we simply relax and let him have his way with us. It takes a trusting faith to do this. Faith is trusting God when it seems like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. It is faith that tells us that he does. There is comfort in the knowledge that God knows the outcome. He sees our wrong turns and brings us back. When we fall he lifts us up. When we cry out he listens and offers to guide us. And the older we get the more we can look back at the maze of our life and see how he has brought us through some rough turns and twists. It is also how we know that he will continue to do so. That is one advantage of aging. Oh, we may not see or feel all of that in the time of stretching, but he’s there. How do I know? As a favorite hymn says, “The Bible tells me so.” His word and my experiences in life confirm his presence.
Matthew 12 tells of a man who had a shriveled hand. Jesus said to him in verse 13“‘Stretch out your hand.’ So he stretched it out and it was completely restored, just as sound as the other.” That is what stretching does. It heals and restores. If the man had refused to be stretched his hand would have remained shriveled for the rest of his life. So I guess the choice becomes ours. Do we allow God to stretch us? Do we stretch out our hand to him even at life stages of uncertainty or do we choose to stay shriveled spiritually, emotionally, and even physically? God requires us to be stretched. It is not an option for a Christian. It is not always pleasant or easy, but without it we will never be equipped to accomplish God’s plan for our life. After all Jesus did some stretching, too. Many years ago he willingly stretched out his arms and died for you and for me on the cross.
Job 9:8, 10 “He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea. He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted.”
PRAYER:
Father, I confess that I hate to be stretched. It hurts so badly sometimes. And yet if this is what it takes to know you completely then give me the strength to endure. I know that you still have wonderful things for me to do and experience with you. So I ask you to hold me up when I fall, guide me through my own maze and safely bring me to the other side so that I can walk with you in the light of the plan you have especially for me.
Love You,
Your Daughter
