When my children were young, we had a microscope. One of my sons in particular loved finding all sorts of things and then checking them out under the lens to see what amazing things were hidden beyond what the natural eyes could see. We had magnifying glasses and some little hand held telescopes that preschool sons used to explore their little worlds. I loved seeing that…that they wanted to search and see more than what they could see. Curiosity is a good thing when it comes to learning.
Well, those scopes of young motherhood were great. Microscopes, telescopes…heck, even kaleidoscopes…those scopes are fun. However….the scopes of my present over- fifty age are not as fun. Nope, not at all. These scopes have to do with medical procedures. Ugh. I got to experience one of those this week…and I promise I won’t go into details. No need for that, lol. But I do want to share a thought or two on this little adventure.
I haven’t been given anesthesia in decades. That is, not till the other day. Thankfully, I’m pretty healthy. My babies were born naturally, and I think the only time I’ve ever been “out” was for a tonsillectomy at age 8 and wisdom teeth out at age 18. So, I really hoped I didn’t make a total fool of myself when I ‘went under’ from anesthesia. My daughter was there and I hoped I didn’t say anything to totally embarrass or mortify her at the doctor’s office. That prayer was answered because she said, “Mom, I was surprised at how in control you were”, and honestly, I did feel pretty in-control as I walked out of the doctor’s office.
But here’s the thing. My daughter saw me thirty minutes AFTER the procedure was done. I had 30 minutes (which a lot can happen in) in an office with nurses and a doctor which I have absolutely NO recollection of. Correction, I have one recollection. As a nurse was helping me get dressed she held up my bra and I said, “Naaa, I don’t need my bra…” I think I remember a smiling smirk on the nurse’s face as she said okay. But the expression I remember the most has ME a bit mortified, not my daughter. The expression that I can’t get out of my memory is that of the doctor’s smiling from ear to ear saying goodbye and looking like he was doing everything he could do to not burst out laughing. Oh boy. Even my over-sedated self had a bit of cause for alarm on that one.
Now of course, it’s humbling enough to bare all physically at the doctor’s office. It just is. Things change and no matter how hard we fight the clock, time keeps ticking and gravity takes hold. But do you know what felt WAY more humbling than wearing that little hospital gown and being exposed physically? It was feeling like that anesthesia let my total personal guard down and let strangers see all…and that I had no clue what they saw! It was however obvious that at least one of them thought whatever he saw was absolutely hysterical. And it’s scary to me that, according to his nurse, he does this procedure about 75 times a week. And you’d think he’d be pretty used to people saying ridiculous things, so I sure didn’t like that his reaction seemed so strong to yours truly. Oh boy again. I’m thinking I probably don’t want to know what I said. Nope. No thank you. Ah well. Life goes on, and if I have learned anything it is to give my self grace and laugh—even when it’s at yours truly. (And it’s often at yours truly by the way. )
But here’s the thing. The big thing. That doctor saw parts of my insides that I’ll never see. Physically. He saw parts of me personally that I’m a bit clueless about. He had a window to what’s inside, and seemed to be quite amused by what he saw. I sure feel a bit vulnerable (and amused as well!) by the whole ordeal. But it made me think about what a beautiful beautiful thing it is to be FULLY known by God. Every inch. Every thought. Every memory. Every Sin. Every victory. Every smile. Every tear. Every sleepless night. Every Prayer. Every SCREAM. Every embrace. Every tremble. Every quiet moment. Every stretch. Every rejection. Every laugh. Every heartbeat. Every single solitary thing. Every every.
It is an AMAZING thing to be FULLY KNOWN, seen, examined by God and LOVED by Him. Accepted. HELD. Known. LOVED. He knows and sees it all in a way that is beyond any scope that we could ever invent. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. Personally. Relationally. EVERY-LY. And this doesn’t leave me feeling vulnerable… it leaves me knowing I’m Loved, and that is a comfort that no one can take from me, this awareness that He sees all, and does not accuse.He sees all and does not burst out laughing. (Well, if he does, am thinking that at least it would be a laughing with rather than a laughing at. There’s a big big difference there.) I can’t blame the doctor for a laughing at, but I sure am thankful that God is not like man. He sees all and Loves, leads, and accepts. Me. Warts and all. (Or polyps, or whatever, lol<3)
Psalm 139 is a beautiful Psalm. It talks about how God formed us in our mother’s womb. It talks about how he knows our thoughts. How we are fearfully and wonderfully made. How ‘before a word is on our tongue, God knows it completely’ (He even knew whatever ridiculous thing-or things, ugh— I said with my under-anesthesia unfiltered self before I said it.) He knows it, sees it, and doesn’t flinch or retract from who we are. We are fearfully and wonderfully made. He formed our innermost parts—the tangible physical ones, and the ones we can’t see, even the most observant doctor can’t see under a microscope…and that He knows it all—this Creator of the ‘fearfully and wonderfully made.’
So, here’s to knowing that no matter how bare life may leave us feeling, God’s grace, well, it’s like a blanket, a covering, a warm embrace that draws in, not casts out. He doesn’t force it on us, but to those who ask, and seek and knock, well, He answers. He just does. His word says so. In Jeremiah 29:13 it says, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with your whole heart.” He has already done the searching and seeking of us…and calls us to seek Him. And you don’t need a telescope or a microscope for that one. Just a heart that is willing to be vulnerable to a God who already knows what’s there anyway. He’ll show up and make Himself known in amazing ways. You never know, it might even be at the doctor’s office.
You have searched me, Lord,
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you, Lord, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.