Jehovah was not in the wind. And after the wind, an earthquake: Jehovah was not in the earthquake.
And after the earthquake, a fire: Jehovah was not in the fire. And after the fire, a soft gentle voice. (1Kings 19:11-12)

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Monday, December 30, 2013

How Families Pick up Broken Pieces


Life isn't always what it appears to be.

Laughter and smiles, whoops and hollers can drown out the deep aching in hearts and cancer in our souls. 

How many of us gathered around feasts with fragile hearts, tenderly shielding the shards of our own brokenness from the abrasive rubbing against other shattered pieces?

How many of us winced from past pain and festering wounds?

How many of us ached while we ate, languished while we laughed, mourned while making merry?

How many families were gathered in rec rooms while living in dysfunction?

How many sons were missing?

How many Mamas were wrapped up in performing and perfectionism and Pinterest-perfect meals?

How many daughters were praying they would measure up?

How many Fathers were distant and more concerned about finances or football or tinkering in their garage than growing strong families?

Family is a precious gift, but also brings unfathomable pain. Pain is a sensation that all is not well; a trigger to alert us to seek help. When we know pain we know there is a problem.

The problem is we don't like to deal with the pain so too often we ignore the fractures and limp along, we turn a deaf ear to the diseases and a blind eye to the disorders, pretending that all is hale and hearty.

We long for wholeness and settle for hollow places.

We let sores scab over but hurt lingers deep.

Down right burns to the core of our being.

If we think healing will come in time, be sure that time will run out.

It always does. 

Time kills, really.

We could spend the rest of our lives and cover up pain, but hope comes in incomprehensible grace.

Grace heals, truly.

Healing comes from the Holy One.

Wholeness comes from the One who was wounded for our transgressions.

Not only the brokenness of our hearts but the blackness of our very souls is set right by our Saviour who was bruised for our iniquities.

Peace in our hearts and pure love in our homes comes when the Lord heals our hearts and binds our wounds.

This is the kind of healing our hearts need.  Our families need to feast on this forgiveness. 

Pull up chairs to the table and pass around bottomless bowls of grace.

The sun is setting on this year.

Time is running on.

But grace never runs out.

Live the life that was meant to be lived abundantly not just for mere appearances.


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