Honestly, sometimes life flat out sucks. Sometimes it’s hard and messy and it doesn’t make sense and crappy things happen to really, genuinely good people doing great things in this world. It just leaves you knowing that there has to be so much more than the brokenness.
It’s okay for me to sit and cry and say that I’m broken and I’m helpless and I can’t fix things. Because I am broken and I am helpless and I can’t fix things. And until you admit there is a problem, it can never be fixed.
But all of this messiness, this shattered glass of a spirit, it screams that there has to be something more. The brokenness points towards the need to be made whole. This can’t be it. This can’t be all there is to life. The pain is so real and so tangible and so imminent, but isn’t hope?
What if the meaning behind this suffering is to make us crave what we are really created for?
Heavenly perfection. If I’m being honest, my pain makes me long for just a simple taste of heaven much more than my happiness does. Being in the dessert place makes me long for water much more than when I’m swimming in it. So often we want the quick fix of earthly satisfaction instead of the pruning process towards heavenly stature. We’re called to be like Jesus, but that doesn’t only mean feeding the homeless and clothing the orphans and caring for the widows as our lives for the most part stay blissful. It means choosing joy in the hard places and seeking peace in the chaos and singing praises while tears of hurt and frustration cloud our vision.
I think sometimes we’re so blinded by our circumstances we don’t even think it’s possible to see anything else.
Jesus is peace, so if we’re to be like Him, then we must have it too. And if He is peace, then ultimately, we must have Him. In order to have Him, we must seek Him.
That’s the key, friends. The key to the hurt and the pain and brokenness. Jesus. Looking for Him where we doubt He is. Finding Him and leaning in hard. As soon as I think I’ve learned this, I’m challenged by it again. The beauty of pain is that it keeps pushing us closer and closer to the ultimate source of healing. It keeps us craving the heaven that we were designed to live in and the God we were created for. There is no pit too deep, no place too dark, no situation too helpless, and no heart too broken for the love of Christ. And I think it is in those places; the deep, the dark, the helpless, and the broken, where He shows up the biggest and the brightest and strongest and the loveliest. So, I take joy and find peace in those places, because those are the places where my need for Him is magnified and He is magnified through my need.