God is like my massage therapist

Today I cashed in a spa gift certificate. (Thanks, sweet girlfriends!)

And I realized that God is like my massage therapist, a.k.a. “masseuse” or “kneader of my sore Jazzercise muscles.”

She asked how she could help. I explained that my left shoulder is always in a state of 4-year-old-demanding-of-attention-ness.

Jill obliged and worked it. Popped it. Pushed it. Then moved to another spot the moment before I’d shout “uncle.”

So that I wouldn’t be lopsided (I guess), she moved to my right shoulder. There, she located a deeper, harder, more tender knot.

I had no idea it was even there. (Yeah, um, not sure how I didn’t know that, being that it’s my body and all…)

Then I had this thought: So often I come to the Lord with a need. But then He exposes needs below the surface about which I’m oblivious.

He doesn’t say, “Angie, here’s a Band-Aid.”

He doesn’t say, “Angie, give me your arm. Here [pulling my arm into an unnatural postion to reach the correct spot]. Push here. Hard. Up higher. You’ve got to do it.”

My shoulder socket (and my heart) rejoice. God applies pressure to the places that need attention. He works on the root of the problem, not just giving me a feel-good, surfacy massage.

Many times it throbs once He’s done. (It’s 11 p.m. and my right shoulder still feels the effects of Jill’s attention 7 hours ago.)

It’s His job (not mine) to “fix” me, to get at the root of the the hard knots.

It’s my job to lie still, letting Him work His power with His strong hands.

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One Response to God is like my massage therapist

  1. Kristina says:

    Great analogy, Angie! I love reading your insights 🙂

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