Tuesday, January 24, 2012


I have read countless blogs retelling the stories of babies born too soon, so silent and still, children dying from cancer, accidents and illness. In doctor's waiting rooms, I have overheard angry words of 'why?' and silent screams of sadness and frustration.

I have read the words of mothers who have brokenness etched into their hearts. Words that will break your heart wide open. My heart feels the heaviness of their brokenness today. It is my brokenness too.

What are we supposed to do with all this brokenness?
I can't sweep it under a rug. If brokenness was a shameful book, I couldn't hide it behind the other books and pretend that it's not there. It's too big and loud. Some days, it screams at me. I won't lie to myself or to the broken woman crying in the hospital... it is real. And it sucks.

What are we supposed to do with all this brokenness?

About three years ago, I heard a sermon about joy. In the introduction, our pastor asked if we were joyful people. I remember laughing bitterly to myself and scoffing, "No. No, I am not a joyful person. How could I be with all the death, the sickness, the brokenness around me?" I'm so thankful that grace pulled me out of my own thoughts and into the sermon that day. I answered his question very differently at the end of his sermon.

His point was not to condemn us into happiness. Contrary to popular belief, joy is not a feeling.

One of the major points in his sermon was that joyful people are people who understand that there is bigger picture; and an Artist who paints with colors we've never seen before, with brushstrokes so perfectly and carefully applied that if we could see it, we would weep with joy.

The bigger picture of a God who loves us. A God who weeps with us and who cares so much that He is coming again to set everything right... to make it the way it should be, the way it was made to be.

To a quote a good friend, "I guess all I'm trying to say is that you are not alone.  It's scary (and HARD) as crap, but you are not alone.  And the one who, if He had not died for us never would have died, is there for us too."

There is a bigger picture, a bigger story. There is an ending more grand than we could ever dream. And it does not end with brokenness. 

For now, the brokenness is here and it will not be ignored. We must keep waiting, knowing that our stories... that the bigger story does not end with brokenness. And lo, there is joy.


Beth said...

Yes and yes and yes. Although losing my baby girl has been unimaginably horrible, God has not left me (or you, or any of us) alone in this place. As Jerry Sittser writes in A Grace Disguised, my grief has enlarged my soul, made me more aware and more wholly in love with the God who heals all things. My new intimacy of God does not make my pain hurt less, but it helps me to carry it.

Thanks for tackling this difficult topic. It's not an easy one. <3

Rebecca said...

Yes, yes, yes.

And He collects our tears in a bottle.

Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love.

And choosing joy does not mean that we forget or move on or ignore the broken pieces. It just means that we are focusing more on God despite the loss, are trusting in His plan, even if we can't see beyond today.