When he was just a young boy, his dad, the Prince of Israel, had died in battle along with his grandfather. Fearing for the life of the royal heir, his nanny had snatched him up, ran for safety with him in her arms. That was, until she dropped him. Mephibosheth’s ankles had been crushed and never would heal. He was crippled. (2 Samuel 4:4)
Though we might not have a physical ailment keeping us from walking, I believe most of us can look to at least one or two (probably more) times in our lives when we we’ve been dropped emotionally or spiritually. Just like the young man’s story, someone we looked to for protection, for loyalty, for love or for covering had failed us and we were dropped.
It might have been a family member who physically, emotionally or sexually abused us or a teacher who told us we would never amount to anything. Maybe it was a spouse who left us or a minister we trusted who betrayed us. It might have been an organization, a job, a church or something we invested our whole heart and soul into only to find that we had been deceived and used. Personally, I know the pain of being dropped, having placed my trust in others who I thought had my best interest at heart, and only to find out that I was merely a vehicle to build their kingdom, expendable. I’ve been in the place where people who should have known me and my heart believed lies and turned away and cut me from their lives.
All these things and many more like them happen every day, and it leaves us saying this:
“I will never trust again.”
With this vow of our heart, our spiritual feet get smashed on the rocks of rejection and betrayal. Suddenly, the ease with which we built relationships before vanishes and we struggle to get our footing in life. It’s hard to move forward in life, make friends, and build a future when you find your trust crippled. It is easier just to close the door behind us and stay locked away with these damned feet that won’t work. We have been cursed, and we have believed the curse.
It is into this desolation that grace comes. It can be fearful at first, when the beginning peeks of light spread out underneath the door. When grace comes calling for us, we seek to hide behind our wounds, because it’s easier to accept the worst than believe it can get better. Why would God care about us, when deep down we believe, he is to blame for this? Couldn’t he have fixed it? Couldn’t he have protected us? Why now should we trust? How can we trust even if we wanted to? Our feet don’t work.
Yet the King is calling us. He is inviting us to his throne room. He comes for us. Can we trust, just one more time? Will we be willing to let down our guards, just one more time to see what grace can do?