Bruises and Stitches and Scars and the Invisible God
“I’m just feeling sad and lonely and a little useless.”
She spoke softly as I entered the room. Her kind eyes looked at me through dark bruises all around them. There was a wound on her forehead where she had hit the concrete when she fell. Her arms were cast and immobile in front of her. She sighed and said,
“I just feel so useless. I can’t move. I can’t feed myself. I can’t read or even change the channel on the TV.”
“I’m so sorry,” I replied. “I know this is really hard. Can I sit with you for a little while?”
We talked for a while and I prayed with her. I prayed as I often do, “God, help us to know and trust that we are surrounded by your love. Help us to know and trust that you are here with us even in this difficult time. Help us to know our healing power and presence.”
I pray these words, or something like them often. I want people to know they are not alone when things are hard… and even when they are not. I want to know the same. I believe the words I pray. I trust God is with us. But how? How do I see and sense and know that which I believe is more than sentiment or hope?
“I just feel so useless,” she said again. Then with great conviction and sadness, she said, “I just want to share God’s love with people. How can I do that if I can’t even move?”
“You just did,” I replied.
“What? How?”
I often think about what the writer of Colossians says. “Christ is the image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15) As I long to see and know God and find assurance of God’s love and presence with me this verse runs through my thoughts. How do I see the invisible God? How do I know the invisible God? I know what I’m supposed to say. Jesus. I see the invisible God in Jesus. Right? But as much as I believe that to be true, sometimes Jesus seems just as invisible. I need to see Jesus in three dimensions, not just the Jesus I read about in the Bible. I want to see Jesus alive as we proclaim he is on Easter morning. I want to see Christ, living and breathing alive and with me… surrounding me with love just as I so often pray for others.
“When I walked into this room and you welcomed me, I could see the love of Christ in your eyes,” I said.
And it was true. Beyond the bruises and the stitches and the scars there was love in her eyes. Her body was broken, but in her, I saw the invisible God. In her, I saw the image of Christ.
“The Christian God is not just in matter and not just in spirit — but precisely when the two operate as one.” — Richard Rohr
That’s what happened in that room. Matter and spirit collided and the invisible God was visible and tangible between us.
“Really chaplain? You see Christ in ME?!”
“Yes. Really. There are no bruises or scars or broken bones that can hide it. I see Christ in you.” And I meant what I said.
“Thank you! I see Christ in you too!”
Apparently, my scars and bruises and brokenness weren’t enough to hide the Christ in me either.
At that moment — through a simple exchange between two people created in the image of God — the hope of my prayers became faith. God… the invisible God of Colossians 1 was visible and tangible and present as I held her hand and prayed.