Broken
"...I feel my heart's been broken, I feel like it's become bigger too, as though the brokenness has allowed for a deeper joy and sadness to come in." -S
It hit me the other day when a coworker, upon seeing my tears on behalf of loved ones' suffering, said to me, "It'll be okay. You have to be strong for them."
Jesus never told me to "be strong" when I'm sad. He said there would be suffering. He said His strength is made perfect in our weakness. The Bible says that "Jesus wept" when his friend died. The Bible says to "weep with those who weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice" and "comfort one another with the comfort that God has given you." The more I think of scriptures, the more I realize God doesn't teach us NOT to feel. In fact, I'm beginning to think He wants me to feel more RICHLY.
Nowhere does God tell us to suck it up when we're sad in the face of suffering. We can hold onto hope in the face of suffering, because we're assured: "Do not fear, for I have overcome the world". The emphasis is on God's strength and work, not our own mustering of fortitude! Fear is not the same as sadness. Fear is losing sight of the reality that God holds our past, present, and future- that He loves us. Sadness is grieving that the world is broken- that death still rocks our world, that jealousy, fear, hatred, and apathy permeate our relationships, that our bodies and minds don't heal or work as intended, or that Evil steals, kills, and destroys.
HOPE is holding onto the One who gave up His life and arose to Life in order to start reversing this pattern of death.
I am finding that wading deep into my suffering, not hiding from the pain that's there, is enriching the aspect of being human that I formerly feared. I often shamed myself for crying or feeling angry, even about injustices done to me and evil in the world. As a deeply sensitive person, I hasten to sanitize or numb pain or else risk being overcome by it. I gloss over pain with cliches in a learned attempt to be "spiritual" or just plain "strong". Americans like to be strong. Christians get it wrong too. We inadvertently teach that emotions are something to fear and push away, that feeling the brokenness of the world and our hearts somehow means that we trust God less or are less "Christian". Instead of being human, saved by grace, loved by an understanding God, I look more like a robot. A really strong robot. The problem with robots is, they rust in the rain.
It's no wonder so many people resonate with Elsa from Frozen: "Conceal, don't feel..." is a lesson passed down to all of us in various forms. The beauty of that story, and mine, is that Love redeems the pain. Love allows us to feel the pain without the fear that it will consume us. In turn, love enlarges our hearts for deeper joy. Because of love, we can then turn to face others' pain and joys with a heart like Jesus'- who entered fully into our suffering.
The more I feel, the more I weep or mourn or am angry or joyful, the more my life feels...real. Before, when I endeavored to wall off the messier human emotions to retain the appearance of "happy", living was like looking at a painting of a forest while standing in a climate-controlled art museum. Now I am walking in the midst of real trees in an aroma-filled forest, feeling the soft ground underneath my feet, seeing the sun dappled through the leaves, or, hearing the rain fall through the canopy above my head.
It hit me the other day when a coworker, upon seeing my tears on behalf of loved ones' suffering, said to me, "It'll be okay. You have to be strong for them."
Jesus never told me to "be strong" when I'm sad. He said there would be suffering. He said His strength is made perfect in our weakness. The Bible says that "Jesus wept" when his friend died. The Bible says to "weep with those who weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice" and "comfort one another with the comfort that God has given you." The more I think of scriptures, the more I realize God doesn't teach us NOT to feel. In fact, I'm beginning to think He wants me to feel more RICHLY.
Nowhere does God tell us to suck it up when we're sad in the face of suffering. We can hold onto hope in the face of suffering, because we're assured: "Do not fear, for I have overcome the world". The emphasis is on God's strength and work, not our own mustering of fortitude! Fear is not the same as sadness. Fear is losing sight of the reality that God holds our past, present, and future- that He loves us. Sadness is grieving that the world is broken- that death still rocks our world, that jealousy, fear, hatred, and apathy permeate our relationships, that our bodies and minds don't heal or work as intended, or that Evil steals, kills, and destroys.
HOPE is holding onto the One who gave up His life and arose to Life in order to start reversing this pattern of death.
I am finding that wading deep into my suffering, not hiding from the pain that's there, is enriching the aspect of being human that I formerly feared. I often shamed myself for crying or feeling angry, even about injustices done to me and evil in the world. As a deeply sensitive person, I hasten to sanitize or numb pain or else risk being overcome by it. I gloss over pain with cliches in a learned attempt to be "spiritual" or just plain "strong". Americans like to be strong. Christians get it wrong too. We inadvertently teach that emotions are something to fear and push away, that feeling the brokenness of the world and our hearts somehow means that we trust God less or are less "Christian". Instead of being human, saved by grace, loved by an understanding God, I look more like a robot. A really strong robot. The problem with robots is, they rust in the rain.
It's no wonder so many people resonate with Elsa from Frozen: "Conceal, don't feel..." is a lesson passed down to all of us in various forms. The beauty of that story, and mine, is that Love redeems the pain. Love allows us to feel the pain without the fear that it will consume us. In turn, love enlarges our hearts for deeper joy. Because of love, we can then turn to face others' pain and joys with a heart like Jesus'- who entered fully into our suffering.
The more I feel, the more I weep or mourn or am angry or joyful, the more my life feels...real. Before, when I endeavored to wall off the messier human emotions to retain the appearance of "happy", living was like looking at a painting of a forest while standing in a climate-controlled art museum. Now I am walking in the midst of real trees in an aroma-filled forest, feeling the soft ground underneath my feet, seeing the sun dappled through the leaves, or, hearing the rain fall through the canopy above my head.
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