He Couldn't Move

I'm reminded this week of the countless Biblical examples of people who had physical reactions to Jesus, either to be near Him or because they had just been with Him. From the shepherds sprinting after hearing the news of His birth, to John leaping in his mother’s womb; so many people having physical reactions because of faith and as a gift of grace.

He just moves us.

But there was one person who didn't move a muscle.

The criminal had just been given Heaven. Every sin of his wasted years had been forgiven, his name had just been written in the lamb's book of life, and soon the angels would be teaching him to sing. And yet, despite this gift of grace and mercy, He didn't run to embrace Him. He didn't leap for joy, lift his hands in praise or kneel in worship. Why? Well, he couldn't move. See, the nails were too deep, the pain was too great. If he could've climbed down that cross, he probably would've demonstrated physically what his heart had experienced spiritually.

What about you? You may be 18 or 80, and Lord knows this brief life is not about the body, but if you've been given Heaven, do what the criminal couldn't and tell your body to react. Walk the block, serve the marginalized, help those impacted with disabilities. And by all means, kneel. Don't wait. Celebrate in this life the free gift of the next one.

--Jimmy Peña

Chapter 2:
Many of you know - either because of some hints I gave in a recent entry or because of some clues I’ve dropped on social media - that I’ve dedicated my life to disability ministry, and the things we’re assembling here on the site will enable us - and you - to do some really cool things together. I found my wheelhouse. I covet your prayers as we continue to build and remodel.

It’s funny, but today’s entry about the criminal on the cross is a repost of mine. I wrote it during a different phase of my life. Divine irony, actually, in that I serve at the pleasure of someone who can’t move her body, but has honored God with it unlike anyone I’ve ever met. More about her in time. But the truth is, physical stewardship doesn’t end in a flex, but with a stoop. May that be the legacy of PrayFit.