My parents are separating.
They’ve been married for twenty-eight years.
I’m sitting at my table. It’s the two o’clock hour. My usual hour to read my Bible and pray. I’ve been really excited about it lately, because my little ones play quietly, and I can drink from the Living Water.
Today, I’m skipping rocks across the top of it, instead of drinking it in.
Over the past two weeks, as past hurts and heartaches–which my parents have dealt with throughout their marriage–have come to light, I’ve been in a constant state of sick. Sick, because it seems trivial to an outsider. Sick, because I’m watching these two people that I thought were so in love tear themselves apart. Sick, because I prayed desperately, and it didn’t change anything. Sick, because I have to explain it to my kids. Sick, because my twelve-year-old sister has to deal with it. Sick, because they couldn’t pull it together.
I told You I didn’t know how to intercede. I told You I didn’t know what to pray. And there for a while, I believed it would be all right. You’d give eloquence to my aching heart. I felt You surround me…and it still made a really big mess, and it still hurts.
It’s funny how we think if we follow Jesus we somehow get a free ticket out of pain. People want to say you’ll be blessed if you stay in God’s favor. They want to view Him as that grandfather in the sky who only wants to love you and give you the best for you and make you happy…and that’s not how it is.
Just because you’re a Christian doesn’t mean that life stops being, well, life. It hurts. It falls apart. It’s hollow sometimes. It doesn’t seem worth living sometimes.
We scream, “God, this isn’t fair! Why?!”
Then we see Jesus. God’s own Son that He didn’t spare from pain, because if He had, we would be doomed forever.
We see Jesus…blood…sweat…agony…for us.
And then in the midst of our own pain, we are comforted by that Jesus, who–from the cross–saw that we would need Him and made a way that we would have access to the Throne of Heaven. We see Jesus, who heals us with His stripes…who breaths new life into our broken, depraved little selves.
We see Jesus.
And it’s not that knowing Jesus takes away our burdens.
It’s that He carries them with us, so we don’t have to walk alone.