Friday, June 1, 2012

sometimes my heart

photo: Gopher KC

Sometimes my heart breaks.

I almost cried on the way home tonight.  I rarely cry.  I hate crying.

But sometimes, it's too much.

A little boy was told tonight that he would be torn away from the most happiness and stability he has known in his short life.

Two friends' marriage is in trouble and on the brink of divorce.

People at work strive for more than they can reach, get stuck, and become frustrated and mean.

A friend's infant daughter grapples with an inoperable tumor that presses on her nerves and causes her near-constant pain.

Families squabble out of love, anger, and dismay.

The son of a good friend requires surgery on his skull.

Bills pile up.  Paychecks do not.

And these are only the things I know about.

I hear about more.

About a friend's family member being unspeakably attacked.

About injuries to innocent children.

I pray, and it helps, but prayer by nature admits powerlessness.

And yet, the same power that conquered the grave lives in me.  Some days it feels easier to summon than others.

Once I sat in a room with an atheist who claimed he doesn't believe anything is wrong with the world.  Apparently, he has never seen Born Into Brothels.

I hate having my heart broken for these hurts and not being able to do anything about them, but I also know that if my heart did not break for these hurts, I would certainly be causing some of them.

I hope and wish for more for some family, friends, and others than they even hope or wish for themselves.  I hope that God answers prayers for us even despite our own desires.

The same power.  The same.  If it conquered the grave and lives in me, how do I get it out?  Not out of me but more onto others?  I'm not a very good vessel sometimes.

Though the burden of seeing right from wrong, good from evil, just from unjust is heavy, I would not trade it for ignorance or apathy.

After all, the same power that conquered the grave lives in me.

I hope that C.S. Lewis was right in saying that "Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory."  I need an active heaven that spreads like a virus - one that reaches down and mops up sinful, broken messes, not an escapist fantasy with harps and clouds.

Joy, if it is going to be real joy, has to be stronger than the pain known apart from it..  Please God, give us joy, and let us be a source of joy to others who need it.

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