Have you ever had a moment when you are reading something – say, the Bible – and an image or a word jumps out at you, vividly?

(I hope it’s happened to you, because, it happened to me.  And it’s a cool experience.  Read on.)

The image that impressed me was an arm.  Yes, a plain, ordinary limb growing out of the upper part of the human body.  Most people have two of them, and don’t give their ‘arm’ a second thought.  In other words, take it for granted.

So, I’m reading through the book of Isaiah on April 20th and see this.

O Lord, be gracious to us, we wait for you.  Be our arm every morning, our salvation in the time of trouble.  Isaiah 33:2

And write. “Be our arm”.  What could be more essential than an arm?  Thinking of all the functions that an arm performs – lifting, eating, writing, typing, calling, driving, balancing, combing, washing, dressing, holding – there is not much I can accomplish in life without my arm.

To ask God to “be my arm” is to ask Him to be an essential – not to be done without – member of my body, joined at the socket and endowed with fine motor skills to accomplish every task in life…

Every writer – even blog writers – knows that a lot of inspirational writing is powered by imagination.  Our minds can envision many scenarios, and come up with some pretty neat words to amplify our thoughts and ideas.

But never would I have guessed in all my imaginings that on August 28th, just four months and eight days later, that my arm would become more than an interesting image for a devotional thought.  Because, on that date, I trip, fall, and break it!

First thought.  I have to use my other arm to hold it together.  Second.  I can’t walk without assistance.  Third.  I’m going to collapse.  Fourth, I need someone to put food and water in my mouth, because my arm cannot do it for me.  Etc. Etc. Etc.

Later, it becomes painfully obvious that my right arm is so dysfunctionally broken that I can’t drive, can’t use it to eat, can’t take off the top of a bottle of tylenol myself. It’s immobile!  It hurts!  And what else hurts is my independence.  It’s gone, shattered in an instant.

It seems that this arm supported more of my life functions than even my active  imagination conjured up in my April musings.

So, does the prayer of Isaiah – that God be his arm every morning – become more significant to me?  You bet it does!  I am not sure how to pray, I can only lean into God and let Him carry me.  I so need God to be my arm,

To replace what I’ve lost in my brokenness.  To replace my independence, maybe.

And what is the result?

The result, a week and a half later, is that God has “been my arm” every morning.  God has been my arm as the arms of a friend support me on the way to the hospital.  My arm as the arm of another friend cuts up my vegetables.  And my arm when another friend blow drys my hair, opens my package, fills out a form for me, drives me to an appointment, picks up my groceries, folds my laundry, prays for me, calls me.  Apart from these friends’ arms, I would be quite helpless physically, not to mention emotionally.

I understand that making the strong connection between God being my arm and friends “being my arm” may seem like “mixing the sacred and the secular.”  But I don’t see it that way. Consider this correlation.

The LORD is for me among those who help me;
Therefore I will look with satisfaction on those who hate me.       Psalm 118:7 NASB

Think about this super-tight relationship between God and His people.  Is it God?  Or His people?  The line is so blurry and indistinct – throughout the Bible, God chooses to act, and even limits His actions, through His people time and time again, even when the results are disappointing.

Subtract the physical presence of His people, and God surely would find a divine, supernatural way to meet a need and “be the arm”.

But when He has willing disciples equipped to meet the need, God uses them.  He uses us.  Could you be the answer to a broken believer’s fundamental cry to God to be his arm every morning?

My friends, I thank you for being His body.