“You are not far from the kingdom of God.” (Mark 12:34)

It really sucks being sick, no matter what the particular illness is.

I realize those may be strange words coming from a tenured and ordained church pastor and hospital chaplain. Nevertheless, it is a truism which far too many people know about intimately.

Yet, there might be something even worse than the devastating effects of one’s own ill health – whether it be cancer or a cold, epilepsy or constipation – and that is the awful grinding reality that someone you love dearly is suffering beyond what you can do for them. If you could take their place, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

And, honestly, many, if not most, people are in one of those situations right this very minute – either needing care or being the caregiver.

As I was walking through my neighborhood last night, as I often do after the day’s sunset, I couldn’t help thinking about all my neighbors inside those lighted rooms. Every single person, I felt and knew in my bones, was going through some sort of illness that’s impeding the quality of their life; or they’re struggling to know how to pray for that friend or loved one who is profoundly ill, wondering what to do, at all.

Debilitating illness is one of those realities of the human condition that appears to be so devilishly odd in a world where billions of people worship God. If there is such a divine Being, where the hell is he!? Why do I feel so helpless?

There is something else for us to contemplate – that we live in a weird space between two worlds. The first world we are quite familiar with – the tangible reality of our five senses. But this other world is a place we are much more unfamiliar with; it has multiple if not millions of senses which we cannot see, hear, feel, taste, or touch with our physical capabilities.

Something inside of us, besides our literal brains, hearts, and guts, existentially knows that deep within us is a soul. I personally don’t care much what you want to call it – spirit, metaphysical awareness, biological wirings, gut feelings, etc. But there is a special place inside of us that is ready-made to connect with that other ethereal world of the spirit and soul.

Let me ask: What makes a young woman with cancer become driven to make a difference in the world, even though she may die tomorrow? Where does the desire bubble-up for a heart patient who could be gone before the day is out to say something of great value that family and friends will forever remember and record?

And what makes you and I get out of bed in the morning, desiring to impact the world in significant ways that makes things better, not worse?

I confess that far too often, in my own ill health, as well as the debilitations of my dear wife, I throw a daily little pity party complete with doll sized cups along with juicy gossip of how others don’t understand.

I rehearse old wounds from the past, wish things were different in the present, and fear for what is to come in the future. O, my friends, you already know this is no way to live a good life.

If we’re going to live with any sort of faith, hope, and love, we will need to recognize our place in-between these two worlds of earth and spirit.

I wish I could tell you that I have it all worked out, that I could give you some short pithy statements of experiential truth which will transform your life experience.

But I don’t.

So, here is what I try my darndest to do ever single day, as a person who seeks to touch both worlds, and who is devoted to the person of Jesus: I surrender to Love. I give myself to what is most important. And when I fail, I let divine forgiveness wash over me.

I luxuriate in the spiritual world’s reality that if somehow I lose myself, I will find Jesus – or rather that Jesus will find me. Love has its own mysterious ways of making the right connections when they need to happen.

I bask in the profound paradox that in renouncing everything I have and everything I am, I gain the greatest possessions in existence – and they are found on that other side, in the spiritual world.

I freely humble myself and resign myself to the words and ways of Jesus – even when they make no sense in the earthly world. “Love your enemy.” Really!? Okay, I’ll give it a go… and it is amazing to always see the results that happen inside of me, and in the other spiritual world, that have little to do with that other person.

The medieval mystics are not popular with a lot of people. I admit Christian mystics are strange people, and have the sort of demands of the Old Testament prophets. But I love them.

One of my favorites, Thomas à Kempis, is insistent that if you lose yourself, you will find Jesus. To resign oneself completely to Jesus, fully and totally without any wavering, is to find the appropriate sweet spot between the two worlds of physical and spiritual. Writing to his young acolytes, Thomas minces no words:

“Let this be the goal of your striving and the object of your prayer, namely, to desire to be stripped of all your belongings, and once naked, that you may be ready to follow the naked Jesus. You must die to yourself to live eternally with me.” (The Imitation of Christ)

Sometimes this happens intentionally, as one longs to connect with the Christ they sense around them. In other ways, much like C.S. Lewis, other people come kicking and screaming to the place between the worlds.

Yet, by whichever means we get there, a place of grace opens to us. From that awkward vantage point – between health and illness – we discover that binary explanations have no place in this realm. Instead, all of us move between the worlds throughout our lives.

And, I would suggest, that the best and most effective way of navigating those worlds is taking the strong advice of both the medieval Thomas and the ancient Jesus. Little do we know how close we are to finding peace and purpose in our upside-down lives:

Now when Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, He answered them and said, “The kingdom of God does not come with observation; nor will they say, ‘See here!’ or ‘See there!’ For indeed, the kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17:20-21, NKJV)

What we truly want and long for is no further than the hospital bed we’re occupying, or any other place we find ourselves in. And, furthermore, the place to find how to help that dear loved one is to journey within ourselves, not without.

If you are like me, you don’t much like limitations. I like the feeling of handling multiple responsibilities and accomplishing them with care and competence. The last thing I want is anything or anyone getting in my way of fulfilling great and meaningful work.

But I have had to learn that my limitations – which grow every day – are actually the key to knowing how to live the Christian life, as well as just plain old life in general.

The more I become aware of my true abilities, accept them, and move with them, the more I see that the world does not spin on the axis of my ability to accomplish anything. And the more dependent I realize I truly am, the more I observe the Christ who has everything under control – even when it seems God is absent.

It is to be expected that God will eventually put us in places of great limitation. Yes,  it will frustrate us in our seeming inability to effect any sort of change to an unjust situation. We just want whatever the offending circumstance is to be exorcised from this world. Yet, it rarely, if ever, happens.

This is not some demented divine game which God is playing on us – to be caught between worlds, and to struggle with all our might to make the best of our situations as people who are both sinner and saint, sick and well, sinister and full of goodness.

No, the nature of our common human condition of hard circumstances as people of faith is meant to strengthen our allegiance and our hope, so that we may be Christians publicly displaying who God is like, and that there is such a thing as truth in the public square.

“…even though you have to suffer different kinds of trouble for a little while now. The purpose of these troubles is to test your faith as fire tests how genuine gold is. Your faith is more precious than gold, and by passing the test, it gives praise, glory, and honor to God…” (1 Peter 1:6-7, GW)

It is downright hard trying to straddle between the two worlds of spiritual hope and physical adversity. But it’s necessary, even if we are unable to discern this reality for now. Every small decision of faith made in love with a good heart has immense impact in the universe, although we may never see that great and good consequence this side of heaven.

Living between two worlds will always be difficult. And it requires a level of surrender to God that is scary. Yet we can still be safe, strong, and spiritual; because we are all in this human condition together.