God Restores My Soul
Stories
Vision Stories
True Accounts Of Visions, Angels, And Healing Miracles
A few weeks ago, I started reading a psalm a day as part of my daily devotions. I use my old study Bible from Disciple classes, so when I come to a passage that touches me I underline it, then go back and meditate on it for a while before I begin my prayer time.
When I came to day 23 I thought, what can I possibly learn from the twenty-third psalm? I know it by heart. I recite it at the bedsides of the ill and the dying. I read it or hear it read at almost every funeral, partly because I think it is one of the most comforting texts one can read at a funeral, but mostly because when I ask people what scriptures they would like to have read in the service, almost everyone says, "Oh, the Twenty-third Psalm. Mother loved the Twenty-third Psalm."
For most of us, Psalm 23 is the most familiar and most loved passage of scripture. So, I began to read, doubtful that I would learn anything new from something I knew so well.
The Lord is my shepherd
I shall not want,
He makes me to lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside still waters;
He restores my soul.
I stopped reading. I reached for my pen and I underlined, "He restores my soul." I thought to myself, there has been many a day when I needed my soul restored: some days when the essence of me seemed so broken, so wounded, that I wondered if I could ever be whole again. But somehow, in ways that are still mysterious and wondrous to me, God had touched me and healed me. I whispered a prayer, "Thank you, God, for restoring my soul."
I began to think about soul, to meditate on that part of ourselves we call our souls, to ponder what exactly we are referring to when we talk about soul, and what it is that occurs when God restores one's soul.
Most of us believe that we are more than a physical body. Some discover this when they have an out-of-body experience. A number of years ago, a friend of mine named Agnes had open heart surgery. Agnes loved to talk, and after the operation, when she was home and feeling better, she regaled anyone who would listen with stories about her operation. She said that sometime after the operation began, she found herself floating outside her body near the ceiling. She could see everything that was going on in the operating room. And afterward, to the amazement of the nurses and doctors, she was able to describe everything they had done. She was able to tell the doctor what he was wearing, even though she had not seen him before going under the anesthetic. Was that her soul that left her body for a time and returned after the operation?
Nurses and hospice workers who care for the dying often report being aware when the soul leaves the body. Some tell of an ethereal wispy light that passes from the body into the air above.
Some who have doubts about the existence of an eternal soul have been suddenly convinced when the spirit of a departed one appears to them, as Jesus appeared to his followers after his death. We celebrated the life of Violet Anderson a few weeks ago. Violet was 91 years old. She has been a member of this congregation since 1952. Shortly after she moved to Milwaukee, her beloved son, Edward, died tragically at the age of sixteen. Violet told later how she cried every day for a year. She got up early to visit her son's grave at 6 a.m. every day before she went to work. She cried so much that her tear ducts dried up and she had to receive special treatment. Then one morning, Violet awoke and saw Edward standing at the foot of her bed. He said, "Mom, you've got to stop this crying. I am where I am. I am happy where I am and nothing is going to change it." From that moment on Violet was better. She was able to go on with her life. Her soul had been restored.
We know about restoration of old human-made things: buildings and cars and furniture. Jo and I took a reupholstering class once. We worked on an old, overstuffed chair. Jo made it look pretty good. I tried to stay out of the way. We have several pieces of furniture in our home that Jo has restored: dressers and tables, and an old, upright piano that came from the Odd Fellows Hall in Janesville. Jo spent about 300 hours bringing it back to life. You can still see burn marks in the wood by the keyboard where the piano players at Saturday night dances put out their cigarette stubs. There was no way to remove the marks without further damaging the wood, and we decided they gave character to the piece and thus made it even more dear to us, and perhaps more valuable for resale.
Is that what it's like when a soul is restored? Are there some marks that never come out, that add eternal character and value? The disciples knew something of this when the resurrected Jesus showed them his scarred hands and side.
George Elvey wrote of it in his great Easter hymn, "Crown Him With Many Crowns": "... Crown him the Lord of love; behold his hands and side, those wounds yet visible above, in beauty glorified...."
Whatever the soul is, what effects a soul here on earth, what touches, wounds, strengthens, uplifts, heals, or restores us is carried into eternity.
Excerpted from a sermon preached on September 24, 2000, at Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin.
When I came to day 23 I thought, what can I possibly learn from the twenty-third psalm? I know it by heart. I recite it at the bedsides of the ill and the dying. I read it or hear it read at almost every funeral, partly because I think it is one of the most comforting texts one can read at a funeral, but mostly because when I ask people what scriptures they would like to have read in the service, almost everyone says, "Oh, the Twenty-third Psalm. Mother loved the Twenty-third Psalm."
For most of us, Psalm 23 is the most familiar and most loved passage of scripture. So, I began to read, doubtful that I would learn anything new from something I knew so well.
The Lord is my shepherd
I shall not want,
He makes me to lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside still waters;
He restores my soul.
I stopped reading. I reached for my pen and I underlined, "He restores my soul." I thought to myself, there has been many a day when I needed my soul restored: some days when the essence of me seemed so broken, so wounded, that I wondered if I could ever be whole again. But somehow, in ways that are still mysterious and wondrous to me, God had touched me and healed me. I whispered a prayer, "Thank you, God, for restoring my soul."
I began to think about soul, to meditate on that part of ourselves we call our souls, to ponder what exactly we are referring to when we talk about soul, and what it is that occurs when God restores one's soul.
Most of us believe that we are more than a physical body. Some discover this when they have an out-of-body experience. A number of years ago, a friend of mine named Agnes had open heart surgery. Agnes loved to talk, and after the operation, when she was home and feeling better, she regaled anyone who would listen with stories about her operation. She said that sometime after the operation began, she found herself floating outside her body near the ceiling. She could see everything that was going on in the operating room. And afterward, to the amazement of the nurses and doctors, she was able to describe everything they had done. She was able to tell the doctor what he was wearing, even though she had not seen him before going under the anesthetic. Was that her soul that left her body for a time and returned after the operation?
Nurses and hospice workers who care for the dying often report being aware when the soul leaves the body. Some tell of an ethereal wispy light that passes from the body into the air above.
Some who have doubts about the existence of an eternal soul have been suddenly convinced when the spirit of a departed one appears to them, as Jesus appeared to his followers after his death. We celebrated the life of Violet Anderson a few weeks ago. Violet was 91 years old. She has been a member of this congregation since 1952. Shortly after she moved to Milwaukee, her beloved son, Edward, died tragically at the age of sixteen. Violet told later how she cried every day for a year. She got up early to visit her son's grave at 6 a.m. every day before she went to work. She cried so much that her tear ducts dried up and she had to receive special treatment. Then one morning, Violet awoke and saw Edward standing at the foot of her bed. He said, "Mom, you've got to stop this crying. I am where I am. I am happy where I am and nothing is going to change it." From that moment on Violet was better. She was able to go on with her life. Her soul had been restored.
We know about restoration of old human-made things: buildings and cars and furniture. Jo and I took a reupholstering class once. We worked on an old, overstuffed chair. Jo made it look pretty good. I tried to stay out of the way. We have several pieces of furniture in our home that Jo has restored: dressers and tables, and an old, upright piano that came from the Odd Fellows Hall in Janesville. Jo spent about 300 hours bringing it back to life. You can still see burn marks in the wood by the keyboard where the piano players at Saturday night dances put out their cigarette stubs. There was no way to remove the marks without further damaging the wood, and we decided they gave character to the piece and thus made it even more dear to us, and perhaps more valuable for resale.
Is that what it's like when a soul is restored? Are there some marks that never come out, that add eternal character and value? The disciples knew something of this when the resurrected Jesus showed them his scarred hands and side.
George Elvey wrote of it in his great Easter hymn, "Crown Him With Many Crowns": "... Crown him the Lord of love; behold his hands and side, those wounds yet visible above, in beauty glorified...."
Whatever the soul is, what effects a soul here on earth, what touches, wounds, strengthens, uplifts, heals, or restores us is carried into eternity.
Excerpted from a sermon preached on September 24, 2000, at Wauwatosa Avenue United Methodist Church in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin.
