Sometimes We Are John the Baptist
My creative writing teacher liked to tell the class that the purpose of a writer is to put words on paper that people are afraid to speak. That to write doesn't mean playing it safe or careful. That a good writer is vulnerable, unveiling to the reader, thoughts and feelings that are only whispered in the secret corners of the heart.
Maybe that is why one of my favorite quotes about writing is by Frank Kafka:
A book must be the ax for the frozen sea within us.
I value transparency in a writer. I admire ax wielders. So, when my daughter, Aleah, who is my guest blogger today, asked to write a post, I was unprepared for the urge within me to edit the the raw intensity and honesty from her words. I wanted to make the sentences more palatable. Safe. Acceptable.
Instead, I have left them as she wrote them - her viewpoint of life as a person in daily, chronic pain.
Sometimes We are John the Baptist.
My name is Aleah. I am 25 year old. I have been sick constantly for two years. And I will likely be sick for my whole life. My collection of chronic illnesses includes: Inflammatory Bowel Disease, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Major Depressive Disorder, Social Anxiety, Insomnia, and Hip Dysplasia. These mean that I almost never leave my apartment. I can’t work. I am nearly always in pain. I am disabled. I have tried many doctors and natural healing methods.
My sickness isolates me because it is hard to leave home. But I also struggle not to isolate myself from those who want to fix me. They encourage me to try This One Thing and if I will try This One Thing, I will be better.
This One Thing includes having more faith, or trying this medication, or doing yoga, or switching to this diet.
If I do This One Thing, then I will get my miracle story.
Then I will be like all the people who were healed in the bible who were healed for their faith. Then I could be like the living people that I have known or heard of who have been healed of intense medical conditions. These are beautiful stories.
But when people tell me that my faith will heal me, they are telling me that I am failing. They are telling me that my sickness is somehow caused by something I did or have not done. They are telling me God wants me to have a life like they have. And that is wrong.
Don’t they know the times I have wept for hours because I have been given this one body here on earth and it has betrayed me? Don’t they know that I have pleaded with God for mercy? Don’t they know that disabled and sick people are still real humans with real emotions whom God loves as they are?
For me, the most encouraging people in the bible are not the healing stories. Currently, my favorite story is John the Baptist.
Things we know about John the Baptist:
he was Jesus’ earthly cousin. He knew Jesus and leaped for joy in his presence while they were both in their mother’s wombs. He dedicated his life to being the one who would prepare the way for Jesus. He baptized Jesus into his ministry and heard a voice from heaven calling Jesus the son of God.
But then John was imprisoned. The bible tells us this in Matthew 11:2-6: “When John, who was in prison, heard about the deeds of the Messiah, he sent his disciples to ask him, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”
Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”” (NIV)
John KNEW who Jesus was.
What we are seeing here is John asking for his miracle. John had faith. He had done all the right faith things. And he was in jail, and he was asking Jesus (this is paraphrase and interpretation, not scripture quotation) “Don’t you care that I am in prison? If you are the Messiah, you could get me out.” But Jesus said no.
He said, “Blessed is the one who does not stumble on account of me, because there isn’t a miracle for you here. I am not coming to get you out.”
But Jesus tells the people that John is the greatest of all men (Matthew 11:11). And when John is killed, Jesus goes away into the desert by himself (Matthew 14:13). Jesus LOVED John. But he didn’t help him. He let John die.
I actually find this encouraging. This tells me that God still loves me without giving me a miracle. It is okay if I don’t get a miracle. My life is still a valid life. I am not being punished. I am loved. I am in good company.
I don’t say this to discourage prayers for sick people or faith healings. But be careful that the way you pray isn’t invalidating the person’s experience and life because of your own prejudice.
I do not want the big miracle story, if it encourages the belief that sickness and disability are just “pre-miracles.”
I want the blessing that Jesus says is for the one who does not stumble on account of him. I want to keep my faith and receive the blessing that comes for the person who doesn’t get a miracle.
Here is what you can do for me (and other sick and disabled people). Treat me like a human. Have compassion for my suffering. Pray for me that I will have more good days. Pray for my husband who worries about me. Pray that we can afford our rent.
And I will pray for you, fellow sick people, for these things too. And I will pray for you, people who are healthy, that you will be kind. And that you won’t drive away sick and disabled people with words.
Some people get miracles. Some people don’t. Some of us are John the Baptist. May we receive the blessing for those who do not fall away when we don’t get a miracle.
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Aleah is currently studying for her master's degree from Prescott College in Social Justice. She has been married for two years. They have two cats, Lewis and Toby. Aleah is helping me figure out how to do fun things with my blog. Like a free download of awesomeness. Stay tuned.
Aleah got a wheelchair today for outings and adventures, as she drew below:
