I Thrive Because of My Crutch

Although I have bad knees that dislocate easily, and thanks to that, I’ve stretched and hurt all the ligaments and whatever else is essential to the knee, I don’t physically use a crutch or cane. Yet. I also don’t write this post with any disrespect to anyone with a disability. But my post is important because of the crutch I read about years ago.

Accurate or not, I read that media mogul Ted Turner once described those that follow Christ as Christians who are weak and in need of a crutch. (I’ve also read HERE that he has apologized, and that a deep loss in his childhood took root in his pain and beliefs. I’ve also read that he disclosed in 2018 he has Lewey Body Dementia.)

Anyway, as I use social media to connect with readers and people from my “real life,” I notice those that are not Christ followers who call those that are, religious. They will even approach me and say, “I know you’re religious so…” Thing is, that’s not true. At least not for me. And as new people have come my way since I’ve started blogging, I thought I would talk about the crutch I lean on. Here’s what most don’t realize: that crutch helps me THRIVE.

When I say I’m not religious, I do so because religious is not exactly a compliment I’d want associated with my name. A religious person tends to get caught up in the law, or the “shalt not’s.” They will tsk tsk when you post about having a beer or dancing at a wedding. I’ve noticed, and this is my opinion, that the religious also tend to step over the folks that truly could use a helping hand. They don’t want to get their three piece suits wrinkled or spend more time on church stuff than the weekly service or two they attend. They might point out what the person next to them is wearing, forgetting that most don’t realize some clothes are challenging for men to see, or that the person is on a budget. The religious also forget the main idea: Jesus. He wore a robe and sandals. A robe and sandals. One more time. A robe and sandals. He was not coming down on anyone for their attire, I can’t even picture it. He flipped a table in “church” in anger. He challenged a whole gang of people bullying on a woman who had a reputation with the men.

Of all the things Jesus gets labeled with, it often aligns with a hippy, zen-like nice guy who wants us to do good. Sorry, but that shallow interpretation isn’t worth my faith and dependence. So no, I’m not religious.

What I am is a follower of Christ that has a church family. In 1992 I was first told about Jesus in a way that differed the few Sunday School lessons I’d attended as a child. I heard about the radical things He did in the name of love—for me. And obedience to God, Our Heavenly Father. For those that say Jesus is a wimp or boring, do you not know He prayed so hard for us that he started to bleed? That when he was whipped, the instruments they used had shards of glass tied on. He wasn’t hit once or twice that way, but I believe 39 times. Not just a little tap, my friends. Oh, and then the nails. Nails were driven through His flesh. I’ve hit my fingers with a hammer with a little swing to it and I had tears formed. Jesus was spat on, mocked, beaten, whipped and crucified because His Dad asked Him to. Why? Because it was the ONLY way we could ever live a complete life. A forgiven life. Because if you haven’t noticed, we’re screw ups. The real word, though, is sinner. We have missed the mark. If you’re like me, it’s probably daily.

So what’s the use of a crutch?

Because I screw up daily.

What Jesus offers me on the other side of the cross is grace. It’s a love beyond anything the best marriage can bring that says, “You messed up. I’ve got you.” On my own, my destination is an eternal reality that does not have anything with God, Jesus, or the Holy Spirit even remotely close by. That means everything about Him—His attributes, promises, love, presence—all of it, I deserve to never experience after I die. What I do believe about hell is it is not fun or a party. It is complete absence of God, eternal torment. I don’t think anyone in hell has friends or people close by. In the story of the rich man, a man condemned to hell begged Abraham to send the beggar Lazarus to come just to dip some water on his tongue, his eternity was that painful. It isn’t about their income status, it is about choice. One chose to spend eternity with Christ. The other did not.

I lean on that Crutch for more than a guarantee of heaven, something I absolutely believe in. There are promises in the Bible I look forward to with that new address—streets are paved in gold, people! The best commodity we have here is pavement in heaven. Isn’t that crazy amazing? We have a home, and not just any. A mansion. I’ve also read books on heaven that used Scripture, and I believe we have jobs there. Not ugh work, but things that use our gifts and passions. I am convinced I will have a shift at the heavenly library/cafe. I can see myself introducing speakers like Paul. Or Mary. Maybe I’ll set up a slideshow someone requests from Christ’s time on earth. And if I’m wrong? I’d rather be wrong about believing and face nothing than believe nothing and face eternity.

My Crutch may guarantee where I reside after I take my last breath, but it doesn’t spare me trouble. In the decades I have called myself a Christian I have faced infertility, miscarriage, near death of child, death of parent and in laws, injustice, division, betrayal, health issues, marriage trials, financial adversity. Not the best PR, am I right?

But get this.

Dealing with those things with Christ has meant everything. I know who I was before. I would have turned to alcohol to numb my pain. I know I would have. It would have been an addiction. It would have destroyed my finances, family, and health. The answers I would be seeking in a bottle would be drinking out of a bottomless poison because the answers aren’t there.

What answers? The Crutch I lean on called my faith and trust in Christ is peace. I have had a literal protection over my body I can’t explain when I’ve wrecked a new van while pregnant. I have had a calm and a knowing my future would be ok when for a season I wasn’t sure my marriage would make it. When our daughter fought for life and no doctor was giving any assurance, after prayer, there was a sense, again, a knowing, a peace that I absolutely can’t describe that it would be okay. Even if she lost that battle, not what I wanted, I had a peace we would make it. It wouldn’t be easy, but I knew we’d survive the grief. She survived.

Beyond peace is the relationship. This is what religious people miss. I don’t just read about Jesus in the Bible, He’s part of my day. I hear from Him in prayer, through music, sermons, and in things I read. They aren’t even holy things where I experience great “downloads.” I remember watching Spiderman 3 and seeing what jealous and unforgiveness look like. His shoulders, even though I can’t see Him yet, are broad enough to take my anger and endless questions with issues like losing my dad when he was only 64. Or miscarrying when so many parents mistreat their kids when I go to Walmart. I’ve been able to take my emotions, my choices, my pain, my rejection, all of it and lay it on Jesus. Where answers come.

I could write so much more about what leaning on Christ gives me. So much more than surviving. There is favor on my life, even on the bad days. I was published in months of surrendering my writing to Him. That doesn’t happen. That’s God saying, “I see you, girl. I love you. Here’s a little something.” Our daughter and all her struggles that I’ve cried a warehouse of tears over—the favor on her life is nuts. She receives clothes, money, events, opportunities and more out of what seems like no where. There is provision over our family. We live in a house that on paper we couldn’t afford, but the price dropped by thousands the week before the house we thought we were buying dropped out. My husband has received opportunities and blessings that again, on paper, they don’t happen.

That’s not luck. It sure isn’t coincidence.

It’s Jesus. It’s me in 1992 saying, “Ok, I know that I’m a sinner, and I believe You were here on earth by a flat out miracle, and You lived a perfect, sinless life. I believe You were crucified but rose again. I want to truly know You. Have a friendship, a relationship. Please forgive me for all my sins and help me.”

It was nothing fancy, and nothing around me shook, quaked, or changed. I didn’t even notice changes in me right away. But slowly, and with prayer, mentors, and reading, the wounded, angry, selfish young woman I was tired of being transformed. Am I perfect? No. But I’m not Christ. I’m a Christ follower. I forgive easier than I used to. I help people in ways I never thought I wanted to or could. I pray for things and people I didn’t even know were needs. I attend church because it is not a building to me. It is a family that can kind of drive me nuts at times, but they have my back. They have seen us walk some dark times and showed up. Because they are Christ followers, too.

That’s why I thrive using the Crutch who is Jesus. That’s why I’m not religious.

And if this Christ following lifestyle has you intrigued in any way, you can certainly contact me at juliearduini@juliearduini.com. You can ask about a Bible reading and believing church that you could attend and talk to the clergy. You can say a prayer in the privacy of your home that can be like mine above, or in any words that convey you know you’re a sinner, and you need Jesus, and ask for His forgiveness. That’s it. You might not feel an earthquake over that prayer, but know this, all of heaven is rejoicing.

And so am I!

Oh, and for those that remember 9/11, this is a 9/11 post of sorts. I chose today to publish it because I remember that day. It was so evil, so devastating. I had no idea what was happening. But guess what? Those that made fun of my trust in Jesus were calling me that day. They were terrified. They had nothing to hold on to that could provide help, comfort, and true peace. All I could do was pray that day and the days after, but I had peace, not fear. And that’s something I’ll never forget.

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Match Made in Heaven is a novella I first wrote as a brand new Christian in 1993. I revised and updated it for publication and released it this year. If you’d like to see the Christ follower journey fictionalized with romance, check it out!