I needed to write words this morning. I’ve got several amazing guest posts lined up for you this month which I love and I need because I’ve got so many other projects going that it frees up some of my time here. But I woke up this morning needing to share with you. Needing to process with you. Needing to get some words out. I don’t have time to write but I also don’t have time not to.
So much is broken around me and in me. I know it is for you as well. It’s our world. It’s like we live in a soap opera called “The Broken & Beautiful”. We can choose to ignore it and move through our day happily on our way but I’ve never been one who could do that. Evil and brokenness is wreaking havoc on marriages, people are grieving the painful loss of loved ones (the ones with skin and fur), women are being sexually exploited, young mama’s are tired and plum worn out of doing all the good, women who desperately want to be mama’s can’t, sons are caring for their aging fathers and working through the letting go thoughts, teenagers are exhausted of trying to find their way… you know how it is. This is nothing new to you.
When our kids were little my husband and I used to be amazed at how bandaids fixed anything. They were like a boo boo miracle cure. Buying stock in band-aid companies is a pretty safe gamble when you have littles. I mean, it’s like you’re paying yourself! Today I find myself wanting a huge box of heart shaped band-aids for some people in my life whom I love dearly. I want a giant crock pot in which to make the most amazing pot roast to feed them all. And I want to hug them and tell them it’s going to be okay. Well, there aren’t band-aids big enough. A pot roast may satisfy for a moment but the comfort it brings will pass – literally :). Hugs are good but I can’t tell them it’s going to be okay because it might not be. It’s not up to me to decide if it’s going to be okay or not.
I want to fix it.
I can’t fix it.
God can fix it.
He might not.
At least for now.
But He will fix it.
I’ve learned in my own life that the fight makes me stronger and the scars make me softer – if I choose it to be so. If someone came around and stuck band-aids on me every time I hurt, I’d just be left with that gross sticky residue all over my skin but my heart would still be broken. It doesn’t work that way in life. I wish it did but it doesn’t.
A band-aid can protect a surface wound but there’s no band-aid on earth that can protect the heart. A band-aid is for protection not for healing. Band-aids don’t heal, nor do pot roasts or hugs or accolades. God heals.
Steven Furtick, pastor of Elevation Church, said in a message once that (loosely quoted) “God leaves us in our pain until we realize the purpose.” Fair? Nope. Right? Yep. Even we, if we’re thinking clearly, have to admit that there had better be a reason for this pain, otherwise it’s all a big huge waste. For me, the task is to figure out what that purpose is as quickly as possible. Sometimes I’m a slow learner.
God knows we have to walk through the fires to grow. Some are fires of our choosing and others are fires that were chosen for us. He knows that it’s in our weakness that’s when we realize our desperate need for Him.
There is no easy fix for a broken heart. A band-aid won’t do. A pot roast won’t do. A hug won’t fix it. I want it to but I can’t do it.
But God can.
Today, I struggle with letting go of the burden I feel for so many. Do you remember May Boatwright in The Secret Life of Bee’s? She took everyone’s hurt and it became a part of her. She had to write it down, walk outside to her wall and let it go. I woke up this morning feeling so heavy, like May. I imagined her walk out to the wall, pinning all the burdens around me to it and letting God have them. But truthfully, they are still a part of me, as they were her. They are a part of me because I love. But God can take them because He loves more and better.
A friend who has been so wise in not offering band-aids but gracious in offering herself to me over the last 4.5 years of my life sent this to me recently:
“I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you.” – Samwise, the brave.
I can’t carry your burden but I can help carry you. Let’s do this for each other. Pray for each other. Ask God to fix it because we know we can’t. I know these words of mine didn’t resolve anything. They just needed to get out.
Just so you know, if given the chance, I would LOVE to make you a pot roast and give you a hug.