Personal Devotions – Am I Dead? (Luke 10:30-35)


This is a twist on the “I’m not dead” posts I usually write when I have not written on my blog for a while.

Whenever people ask me how I’m feeling recently, all I can manage with is, “I’m surviving.”  That’s the best I can do at the moment.   I wondered how I could articulate how I was feeling, but I had a personal revelation: I am still working through my lack of passion – I’ve not done the things I have been passionate about for so long I’ve forgotten what they are….

I had a conversation with a friend on Facebook the other night, and he was trying to encourage me to fight the devil off and seek God and pray.  I didn’t want to be rude; I told him that I felt like the guy who got beat up and left for dead in the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-35)

30In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.33But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him.35The next day he took out two silver coins[a] and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

I feel as though I’ve been emotionally beaten up and left for dead. I told my friend when he said that I’m “weak” and need to cry to God for strength, “I’m not weak. I’ve gone past weak.  When I was weak I felt like I lost almost everyone – and I’m not weak anymore. I’m destroyed.”  Now I know  that that’s harsh – but it seems like where I am.

In fact, I came to a realization just today – I guess I’m in the perfect place for God’s resurrection that he has been talking to me about since last December, because I have no fight left in me whatsoever.

In the above story, the man who was beaten up, in my opinion, would have had to have been unconscious.  He looked like a dead man.  That’s what made the other two skirt him.  If I remember correctly, the holy could not touch the dead – this would make them unclean.

I’ve felt that way myself – yes, there have been those who have been around, and I thank God for them – but the ones who separated cut deeper than the sharpest knife ever could.  My friend actually said that he felt partially responsible for my current emotional state, because he felt like he did leave me.  WOW.  I actually had to say that seemed like the first time someone actually admitted to abandoning me.

Now I agree, I did do my own separations. I will not stand and give an, “Oh poor me, everyone’s against me!” speech – at least, not without being fair and admitting my own part to play in it.  I have pulled away from those who I thought were helping me.  I did feel a sense of betrayal and loss, and I decided to close myself off.  Even when I tried to open myself up again I felt let down and pushed away, so I stayed away.

It took ages and ages to start getting away from my bitterness and resentment – and when I started to get over that … let’s just say I still have trust issues, as I expect others have of me.  So yeah, there are reactionary decisions on both sides.

But thank God Jesus hasn’t abandoned me. I may not feel it or want to acknowledge it right now, but he hasn’t.  I know that he’s the ultimate good Samaritan here, and I know that he’s sent others around me.  I’m doing what I can do – and waiting, like the unconscious man in the parable, to be picked up and taken care of.  I am waiting for the resurrection God promised me.

So, if you read this, and you want to help me – please don’t do it by telling me what I should be doing or what I am not doing because I’m just lying here.  My ribs are broken, it hurts to breathe and I’m sure I have other broken bones as well.  I can’t stand.  Come over and offer a hand, some oil and some wine (I like rich wine, not too dry, please.) *wink*  Seriously though – don’t judge me; just pray that the resurrection time comes quickly, and go according to what God says to you.

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