you make me new

All this week I feel like I have been constantly reminded that God is continually making us new. This was a big theme in the beginning of our church service the other day with new pastors and new formats and new ways of doing a sermon. Then this week I have been listening to Gungor's album Beautiful Things almost non-stop. So many of the songs express a desire to be made new, and a transformation in one's soul of being made new. I have seen a little one move from the PICU in a Children's Hospital after almost a month to a a regular room. I have watched the pleading God to make a child new from a mom who has had a little one in the NICU for the last month. I have seen the rains come to Colorado, making new this state from fires to peace.

I saw the first of two new surgeons yesterday, who suggested something completely new as a possibility, an electrical spinal cord stimulator. I had heard of this before, but it has not been suggested as me being a candidate before. There are still many things to happen before this would actually come to pass. More MRIs. Second opinions. Trials. More surgery. And, it still could not be the solution overall. It was overwhelming, and like most of my appointments these days, yes, I cried after it was over. There are many times that I have given up this hope for physical healing, and instead just felt that maybe our Lord would make me new in different ways... in my spirit, in my mind. Yet, the hope that maybe God will be making me physically new, with new suggestions from new doctors (not that I didn't love my doctor in KC) has been creeping in. I am feeling slivers of hope again that "You make beautiful things out of us" and that "Surely our Messiah will make all things new."


Watch closely: I am preparing something new; it's happening now, even as I speak, and you're about to see it. I am preparing a way through the desert; Waters will flow where there had been none... there will be water enough for my chosen people, trickling springs and clear streams running through the desert. My people, the ones whom I chose and created for My own, will sing my praise. - Is. 43:19; 20b-21