Freedom to run and dance

Psalm 118:5: “In my anguish I cried to the LORD, and he answered by setting me free.” 

 

All my life I thought that I was on the right track.

I thought I could control my life.

I knew Jesus died for me, but I didn’t strive to know anything else.

What I thought was that I could go along with my life and look to God when I wanted to, or when he was not blessing me.

I thought that I could ignore him, and that everything would be fine.

I thought I could get by without a relationship with Him.

I thought that I connect with him on Sunday, and put Him aside during the week.

I thought that he was just there when it was convenient.

I thought He was only there to complain to.

I thought He was there to consult to my needs.

 

What I never thought was that I would truly find God in the smallest of the small… in the small country of Guatemala.

 

I walked into the Cerebral-Palsy Hospital. I had been volunteering at a hospital in the states for a couple months, and thought I could just walk in and everything would be fine. I felt like I would be the one that had more experience than the others in my group. I thought I had everything under control, and that I would change these peoples lives.

I was lead into a hot, sunny room with old ladies lined up against the wall in wheelchairs, unable to move.

I looked around and the nervous awkwardness hit me. I couldn’t do this.

Maybe I could just tag along with the others, and everything would be fine. Who was I to think that God would just let me hide in the background, when He sent me to Guatemala to stand out?

Before the trip, I was struggling. Everyone has struggles… and mine was with loneliness. For the longest time I felt alone, useless, and hopeless. Because of this loneliness and longing, I shut God out, and replaced Him with other things. The sad thing is that I didn’t even know that I was shutting Him out. It just happened.

God lead me to an old, shriveled lady in a wheelchair. She grasped my hand and didn’t let go. She held my hand so tight that I didn’t know what to do. She started to sob. She talked about her sister and daughter dying, and other things I could not translate. I connected with this old lady in a way I never thought was possible. I felt her loneliness… and her pain.

God hit my heart with a hammer, and left a crack in it.

This lady stared into my eyes, and I saw God’s love. I saw his longing for me. I saw his love for this woman. He gave me love and compassion for this woman that I have never felt for any other person in my life. I broke down crying. I sat with her for 45 minutes, not daring to move. Not daring to break our connection.

On this day, God told me “You are not alone.”

But, he wasn’t done with messages.

The next couple days he left more chips and cracks in my heart. He showed me joy, peace, compassion, grace, beauty, pain, suffering, poverty and His everlasting love. Each day was an emotional, unforgettable impact on my life.

One night, we were worshiping, and reflecting on the week, and it happened.

He hit my heart so hard that it broke into a million pieces.

I felt my loneliness, anger, bitterness, sadness, and fear fly away. God consumed the empty space and patched up my heart.

I felt freedom for the first time in my life.

It is something that is unexplainable. I broke down crying. A fire was started in my soul. My heart was made new. I never knew that I could feel freedom. I never thought that I could ever connect with God.

But I did.

I felt freedom. For the first time….FREEDOM.

It was something that overwhelmed my spirit, and made me want to run in the street and cry screams of joy for Jesus.

The day after I truly accepted Jesus, and His freedom, our group went and did an Ask The Lord prayer time. He kept giving me images of the place where I received my first crack: The Cerebral-Palsy Hospital. I knew that is where God wanted me to go. So I listened, and went.

I walked into the hospital feeling different. I didn’t feel alone anymore. I felt free, and ready to share that freedom and love with anyone I laid eyes on.

We walked into a room filled with boys in wheelchairs staring blankly at a screen with Asian images flashing by. We decided to impact them that day. First we turned off the T.V. Then, we opened a parachute, blew up balloons and beach balls, and started waving the parachute up and down. We put the boy’s wheelchairs in a circle and let them in on the fun. The joy they showed me was amazing, and to no surprise, I started to cry tears of love for these boys. When they were happily playing, I went and prayed for the sick boys in bed with another member of my group. Yet while I was busy playing and praying and doing work, I kept seeing this boy facing the wall, lying on a bench in the corner. God said go to him. So I went.

When I sat down and laid a hand on his back he immediately sat up and looked at me. His look of sadness, worthlessness, and loneliness consumed my soul. I grabbed his hands, rubbed his back, talked to him, sang to him, and prayed over him. He enjoyed it all, yet he kept looking and pointing at the parachute. He couldn’t go to it, because all the wheelchairs were occupied. So I decided to bring the parachute to him.

I gave him the handle, threw the ball in the middle, and we had our own personal parachute session. I glanced over at him. As I did, he looked up and flashed me the most amazing smile as light flooded his eyes. I felt the fire in my soul leap. I cried. He kissed my hands, smiled, and laughed. It was amazing to be able to experience belonging with this boy. We were both alone, but the love of God gave us freedom. I got to feel free with this precious boy. This boy who couldn’t speak and whom I couldn’t communicate with, in Guatemala, in a small, run-down hospital that nobody seemed to care about. Yet God cares. Even in the smallest places, He can shine His light.

God’s grace and love brought this sweet boy and I together. We got to experience belonging and joy in Christ together.

Freedom is meant to be shared; and I got to share it with this beautiful boy.

To society, this boy and I are seen as useless. But to God, we are more precious than anything.

I thought I knew God before this trip.

I was just a prisoner who escaped the shackles on the wall, but who was still in the cell.

But thanks to God’s love, and His son Jesus, I escaped the cell and got to run into His arms.

I am free to run.

I am free to dance.

I am free to live for YOU.

I am FREE.

 -Shannon