A new grandson is born over a recent weekend and we display his
picture on Facebook with joy overflowing.
"Likes" and warm congratulations adorn this cherished event. People whom we barely know rejoice with us.
On another Facebook page, a different child’s picture is displayed. Husband and wife celebrate alone. They stroke the picture of their offspring with bittersweet, caressing her with their eyes. Eight years is an eternity to not touch your daughter, much less get a glimpse of her or look into her eyes.
Mental illness ripped her from them as a teenager. Months bled into years as she denied them contact. She is older now – a grown woman - yet she is carried
in that mama and daddy place inside them just the same.
On another Facebook page, a different child’s picture is displayed. Husband and wife celebrate alone. They stroke the picture of their offspring with bittersweet, caressing her with their eyes. Eight years is an eternity to not touch your daughter, much less get a glimpse of her or look into her eyes.
And in this recent picture, the estranged one smiles. Eyes seem to dance, arms around
the few she has allowed into her fragmented mind and world. And in a flash, just for a moment, she seems to smile at the grieving parents.
They yearn to break her free from the chains that bind her but not unlike our new grandson, she must be birthed in God’s perfect timing. So they wait and view her from afar, on screens and through other's chance encounters. Though their pain has taken a settled place within them, there is no bitterness or resentment. They serve joyfully, pray faithfully and celebrate other's life events.
Often we think that “having it together” is a score for the home team as Christians. But I think far more is spoken through lives of faithfulness in the grit and grind of imperfection and brokenness. Because honestly, it shouldn't be about us anyway. It's about how our lives point to God. When we yield the canvas of our hopes and dreams, the Great Artist creates. He may paint with a different stroke, but it is perfect in His way and timing.
The true beauty of our lives is not in being free of life's problems but in the yielding. And this is the life that we see in
them. They yearn to break her free from the chains that bind her but not unlike our new grandson, she must be birthed in God’s perfect timing. So they wait and view her from afar, on screens and through other's chance encounters. Though their pain has taken a settled place within them, there is no bitterness or resentment. They serve joyfully, pray faithfully and celebrate other's life events.
Often we think that “having it together” is a score for the home team as Christians. But I think far more is spoken through lives of faithfulness in the grit and grind of imperfection and brokenness. Because honestly, it shouldn't be about us anyway. It's about how our lives point to God. When we yield the canvas of our hopes and dreams, the Great Artist creates. He may paint with a different stroke, but it is perfect in His way and timing.
In the meantime they, whom we love so dearly, whose pain we tenderly but awkwardly hold, wait. On tiptoe. And as the storm rages on and they are pelleted by downpours, we pray and watch with them for rainbows.
I so appreciate this writing, Barb, grieving together with you for our dear friends. How time flies from afar, but not for those who suffer such loss. Thanks for the reminder to pray for them again, that God will heal and restore what for now is still loss. They truly are an example of faithfulness and perseverance.
ReplyDeleteWe resonate with you on this, Barb, so beautifully given. Our dear friends are truly the example of Christ, leading us by example. They wash feet. They trust, keep loving, keep tender and pure hearts. I look expectantly for the birth of reconciliation as only Jesus can do..perfect in His time.
ReplyDeleteThank you Barb...for putting words to what we all feel for this precious family
ReplyDeleteThank you, Barb for reminding me that I can wait prayerfully in my brokenness...
ReplyDelete