Hyssop

Hospital lessons come back to me at the oddest times.  Today I wandered a while in the details of a visit from two dear friends.  I had only been conscious for a day, and much of that lucidity was bound in pain and confusion.  My right leg was broken at the top and the bottom, and my left arm was shattered as well.  Added to the mix was a fractured pelvis and a lacerated kidney -- all contributing to the necessity of having nurses frequently change me by rolling my disabled body first to one side and then the other.  I felt embarrassed every time they had to be bothered to come perform the elaborate ritual of attending to my personal needs...again.  I feared the helplessness and pain that seemed to accompany my hospital caregivers.  And so I reached the addled conclusion that the best thing for me was to get help hiding soiled bed linens.  I remember explaining to my visitors in a conspiratorial whisper that they could take away the blankets and sheets, wash them at their homes, and bring them back.  That would be a huge help.  This morning I ruefully recalled the betrayal and frustration I felt when my husband discovered the plan I was hatching and vetoed the whole thing.  "Just ring for the nurse."
The instinct to cover up, hide the evidence, bury the body is second nature to me.  And in that panicked fog of self-preservation I have missed clear understanding of the heart issues at hand many, many times.  Left to myself I expend energy dealing with the surface implications, rather than face the reality of my brokenness and the impact it has on those around me.  I don't want to be flawed and vulnerable --  I want to appear amazing and admirable.  I would prefer to lay another blanket on top of my soiled bedclothes than submit to the chore of changing the bed.  
The first shower after weeks of "sponge baths" is still vividly clear.  My skin seemed to drink it in through every pore.  Although my body trembled from the fatigue of remaining upright on the stool, nothing dimmed the exhilaration of feeling the water rushing over my face, head and battered body.
Amazingly, God does not let me lie in the muck and mire of my making, but plunges me into His cleansing flood of  "deep, deep love...unmeasured, boundless, free."

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin!

For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.
Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you may be justified in your words
and blameless in your judgment...
Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being,
and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart.

Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones that you have broken rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.
Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from your presence,
and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and uphold me with a willing spirit.