We Aren't Our Brokenness

While I was dreaming about crock pots last night, my cousin David was drawing his last breaths. You see, I’ve been working on a fundraiser including a lot of crock pots, and many, many details that kept my mind whirling late into the night. At the same time my aunt posted on Facebook that Dave was having trouble sleeping and for us to pray for him to have some peace.

See, David has had brain cancer and has been battling radiation for several weeks now. This picture is from a play he was in several years back. I remember him young and strong, and I know he was and is so much more than what the cancer did to him.

The thing about being human is that it is so hard to get past what we can see and touch. We are stuck with our tangible pains, fears, and loss. We have pink coffee mugs, and thankfully a soft carpet under our feet, and a warm shower to wash the tears down the drain. But it is those hard times when you just don’t know what to say, because there ISN’T anything to say, that can actually help.

My extended family has been down various roads that led us through departures among us. I miss many of them, and wish I could have known all of them better. I was standing in my bathroom this morning attempting to get ready for the day, just allowing myself to ask God, “Why? ….but why?” And I didn’t expect answers, because let’s face it, I’m too simple to truly understand the answers. But then God brought a verse to mind. Immediately after I asked, “Why?” there was, “I have come that they may have life.” We can’t see the other side of this life, but God can, and we are promised that it is pretty awesome over there. Sometimes when God heals, he permanently heals. We are terribly broken over here, even with our creamy cheesecake, our warm sunshine, and pretty affordable contact lenses. But the thing is, over There, we don’t need contact lenses.

I read this book and while some close people to my heart think it’s no good to read, there was one part that really stuck with me. The girl in it had a literally life-altering experience because of her new husband being….not …a….warm….person….and now she was immortal. She could see better than ever before, far into the distance, able to see colors she had never seen before, understanding light and it’s dancing with shadows; she could move so fast because she didn’t have the tiredness, or weariness, or bonds of being human. She could smell better than before – scents of the smallest flower, the trees swaying in the breeze, an animal forging for dinner; she could run and did not grow tired, and could move so fast because there was no more weight holding her down. 

Sometimes I get so tired of wearing glasses or contacts. I get tired of having stuffy noses and headaches, and being incredibly tired by 4:00 in the afternoon. Sometimes I think about that section of that book and think, “Man, I hope heaven is kind of like that.” No more weariness, no more foggy contacts, no more tangles in my hair.

There is a Life better than most of us know, and we’re in training for it. We’re on this side of it, learning about the guy who we will spend the rest of it with, moving closer to – or away from – his heart, his presence. He is Life, and he has some for us. Now if only my heart and mouth could keep that in the forefront when those tears begin to well up.

There is more to the story than this side of eternity. We can only see this side, but what is coming is so much better. We aren’t only our brokenness. We are given strength, healing, peace, and provision beyond that which we can understand right now.

We celebrate a Healer who knows when we can’t stand being broken any longer, and cling to a Father who grasps us in his arms when we can’t stand on our own. He’s here on this side and the other side, so we let him carry us when we don’t have the strength.

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.

Hebrews 10:23