A blog reader sent me this song a few days ago, and I just can't stop listening.
O happy fault - o happy fault,
That gained for us so great a Redeemer.
Fortunate fall - fortunate fall,
That gained for us so great a Redeemer.
In the middle of the mess, we can't see our way to the end.
We know for sure there's no way to put the pieces back together like they were before, and we can't imagine something good coming out in the end.
When there's such pain, such sorrow, and our whole world is narrowed down to the disaster, it's almost impossible to remember that all our falls are fortunate, because we have so great a Redeemer.
Something good is coming out of the fall, something beyond our imagination.
The refiner is at work in the fire.
God promises never to leave us, never to forsake us.
Our names are written in the palms of His hands.
We know all those things are true.
When we're in that pain, however, it's hard to keep track of the truth, and we need each other more than ever.
But like I said last week, sometimes we silence the parts that are hurting, right when they need us the most.
I think we do that out of fear. We're afraid we're not enough for ourselves, much less the other person.
Here's the thing.
Me, in and of myself? I am not enough for you.
But if I'm part of the Body, well then. The Redeemer gets involved, and that's another story.
Andy was commenting on somebody's blog the other day and he said something I love:
- Speaking for myself (and I can only assume that I'm not the only person of my personality type), I've always struggled with having a touchy, feely type relationship with God because let's face it, we can't see Him so it's just different than having a relationship with someone on this earth. That's just me -- I know other's have their own experience and that's totally legit. But for me, having struggled with a porn addiction, one of the main things that has changed my life has been the transformation of my relationship with my wife and also coming to a real understanding of God's grace. If I read an article like this when I was still in bondage it would have made me feel like I just need to try harder to manufacture an intimate relationship with God. That's just not something I can conjure up -- for me it has developed out of having real relationships with other lovers of God.
Anne Lamott puts it this way:
- Broken things have been on my mind as the year lurches to an end, because so much broke and broke down this year in my life, and in the lives of the people I love. Lives broke, hearts broke, health broke, minds broke. On the first Sunday of Advent our preacher, Veronica, said that this is life’s nature, that lives and hearts get broken, those of people we love, those of people we’ll never meet. She said the world sometimes feels like the waiting room of the emergency ward, and that we, who are more or less OK for now, need to take the tenderest possible care of the more wounded people in the waiting room, until the healer comes. You sit with people, she said, you bring them juice and graham crackers.
The little bit of love I have to share with you can't heal you.
But God's Love can.
And somehow, in the Body, we get to be part of real Love and real healing, even while we're just sitting and waiting together for the healer to come.