5 years ago today. 5 years ago today he left us. 5 years ago today he ran for the first time in a long time. He ran into the arms of the one who loved him more than life itself. 5 years ago today he finally had no pain, he breathed deep and rested, finally rested.
But, 5 years ago today my heart broke, my spirit ached, my faith weakened, my miracle left me. All the prayers for healing, all the mustard seeds I’d offered to God, the mountain I begged to move, left me. That’s a holy, hard thing, to know dad’s miracle began but to be left behind wanting your own.
I’ve been working on that lately, working on my broken faith. I thought I had dealt with it, processed it like a good therapist does, but it’s been creeping up lately. The memories, the things we saw that we shouldn’t have seen. The pain he endured that was so unjust, the way his body was ravaged so unfairly. It’s been creeping up and I can’t quite handle it like I want to. God, in his wisdom, is bringing it to the surface because he is good enough to want me whole.
That’s strange, isn’t it? That God would reveal in me my angst toward Him, my questions, my doubts that He is good? Why would He do that? Why would He expose something that doesn’t honor Him? That’s brave isn’t it? He isn’t worried about his reputation. He could leave all this buried in me, keep it under the covers, but He is a cover lifter, as I have said before. He’s a light shiner, He breaks up darkness, even when it might reveal that we aren’t sure if He is good.
Don’t stop is what I want to tell you. Don’t stop moving towards holiness, wholeness and having your broken places mended. It’s holy, hard work. But it’s worth it. It’s worth it and God can handle the wrestle. We are wrestling now, me and God. I am wrestling with Him on my broken heart, my faith that was chipped at, the miracle I believed for but didn’t receive, the medical trauma dad endured, we all endured. I have doubts and tears and He can handle them. He is so good to not let them consume me. He is so good to bring them to the surface after 5 years because he wants my healing, my own miracle.
He’s kind like that, he moves us from glory to glory. Don’t stop. Dad never stopped. He always found the fight in him to keep going, until he just couldn’t anymore and then he stepped into His glory. Glory to glory. That’s how God works, at least that’s what I am learning.
Sometimes glory doesn’t look like what you think though. Sometimes glory looks like old memories coming back, tears, time in the counseling office, time writing down the words, more tears, hard conversations, bold conversations with God, telling Him your angry and you aren’t sure if you believe Him when you’ve believed him for 32 years. More time with the counselor…And then there’s glory.
Out of the wrestling, there’s glory.
Like when dad finally stepped into glory after all those years. All those years of wrestling with his body, wrestling with fear, wrestling with his maker, he finally stepped into his glory. Glory to glory. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop moving towards the One who can handle it, who can handle you and your wrestle and all your broken places.
Just please don’t stop.
“And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” 2 Corinthians 3:18