ok i know i am like the world's #1 book recommender but i just simply cannot help it.
if you know me, you know one of my ultimate passions is the written word. i love to read. i love to write. one day i hope to have the opportunity to write a book. but for now, i will borrow the masterful thoughts of my favorite scholar and theologian, henri nouwen.
i feel like so many of my friends are in seasons of hurt right now. everywhere i seem to look, someone is hurting. whether it be broken relationships, infertility, job loss, loss of life or lost friendships. and when their hearts hurt, my heart hurts. and when i peer in to my own soul, i see a lot of potential heartache. but for some reason, when my heart wants to despair for my own sake, something is holding me back. because i have such hope that my God has not forsaken any of these situations. His eyes are not blind to our tears.
this is one of my favorites paragraphs from the pages of wonder that are nestled in this text:
ultimate mourning means facing what wounds us in the presence of One who can heal. this is not easy, of course. this dance will not usually involve steps that require no effort. we may need to practice. this will not make the pain disappear. this will not mean we can expect to avoid shadowed valleys and long nights. but these steps in the dance of God's healing choreography let us move gracefully amid what would harm us, and find healing as we endure what could make us despair. we can ultimately find a healing that lets our wounded spirits dance again, that lets them dance unafraid of suffering and even death because we learn to live with lasting hope.
a few weeks ago i went to lunch with a friend who is currently wrestling with the idea of God and Christianity. she told me that she sees all of the Christians in her life as being so happy and she wants to know why she isn't as happy or why she can't have that. after thinking about it for a minute, i had to respond that i do not think what she sees is us being happy. i think she is seeing something else.
i think she sees joy.
because happiness hinges on circumstance.
happiness can be crushed in an instant. my happiness can be turned to utter rage within one customer at starbucks who orders five cups for one drink because she needs one cup for soy and one for nonfat (so she can put her own milk in because we are incompetent) and needs her tall cup put in a venti for all the extra milk and she needs two venti extra ice waters....see what i mean? happiness.....gone
but joy.
joy perseveres and sees through circumstance. joy is crying blissful tears through a broken relationship because you realize that at the end of the day you have a Savior who is weeping with you and holding your broken pieces in His capable hands.
joy is when i want to cry my eyes out because my parents are moving away from me but realizing that God is doing such a bigger thing and rejoicing that He is faithful when we fail to trust. i just found out that my mom, whom i pinky swore when i was like 12 that i would live next door to forever, is moving six hours away. this makes me want to throw a three-year-old-hissy-fit-stomping-on-the-ground-and-screaming. but i am so joyful that God brought my parents a job the month their severance was going to run out. that's joy. because i am not happy about it. but i am so joyful.
joy is an outstretched hand during a sunday morning worship service when life is crumbling down around you. because you realize that you serve a God who loved you so much even when He KNEW you would mess up.
joy is realizing that
this prayer i prayed, when i did not even believe the prayer myself, was answered.
as i have previously mentioned my family has been in a suffer-battle for about ten years. and the scoreboard is something like
suffering-308206823
block family - 0
but this book is extremely sobering. you see, henri nouwen wrote this book from a place called daybreak. daybreak is a community of individuals who have been cast out of society. they are incapable of living on their own and need live-in, full-time caretakers. they cannot read. many of them cannot even control their own bladders. they understood, though, how to turn pain from an interruption to an opportunity. henri saw these people understand a way to live fully in the midst of their suffering.
we, on the other hand, avoid suffering at all costs. we see hardship as an obstacle to what we think we should be - healthy, good-looking, free of discomfort. we consider suffering as annoying at best meaningless at worst. we strive to get rid of our pains in whatever way we can. a part of us prefers the illusion that our losses are not real, that they come only as temporary interruptions.(*quote)
however, when i look back at the suffering of my life, i also see the most growth. i see that during those times i feel like i am about to let go, i find another knot at the end of my rope and hold on.
i know i have suffered hardship in my life. and i do not pretend that i understand or have suffered to the extent what some of my friends have suffered. but i do think it is a beautiful thing when we can put down our masks and allow others to see our vulnerable, bare, naked, broken, beautiful self.
this year has been a year of stripping me of pride. i often try so hard to race ahead of God's will for my life by taking the bull by the horns and trying to make something of myself to prove to others (and myself) that i am worth it.
that i am worth the money the kern family fronted for my scholarship for grad school. that i am worth the money my parents forked over for undergrad. that i drive the car i adore to prove to others that i am worth something.
but a few months ago, when i was driving to school, i passed a semi truck full of smashed cars heading to the dumpster. i mean these cars were smashed by a machine that made them paper thin. and it made me think: how many thousands of dollars were poured in to that car by someone when it was brand.spanking.new? just so someone could drive the brand.
because our society places value based on brand. and one day, my car will be on a semi just like that.
but when we truly allow one another to see who we are, something beautiful happens. we enter in to each others suffering. so that i grieve alongside my sister with an infertile womb. and she grieves alongside me when i am in the depths of despair. and suddenly, our suffering becomes a bit more bearable. because we are in this together.
and our mourning can turn in to dancing.
