Some Days
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Sometimes, when things go a little dark and quiet over here,
it’s usually because I have to process. And it’s never a good idea to process
on a blog because, well, someone might read it and my blood and guts might be
spilled out on the internet for everyone to read and readers might actually
bump into the fact that I’m human.
This past week was one of incredible humanness for me.
I don’t have a snazzy story to go with the lessons I’m
learning this week. I don’t have a cute illustration to show all that God is
teaching me. All I really have is honesty.
I have felt sad this week. A friend suffers, and I feel
helpless to relieve the pain. Another friend dies, and I feel sorrow for the
years I’ve missed. I sense tension in relationships and it spills over into my
home, taking captive those I love the most.
I have felt helpless in situations way beyond my control.
I have felt grief over losses too big to comprehend.
All of this in just one week.
And to top it all off, we got six inches of heavy, thick,
soul-sucking snow this morning.
*****
Some weeks are just like this, you know? Issue upon issue
upon issue piles up and the weight bears down until you think you might snap.
My shoulders were never meant to carry such burdens.
Neither were yours.
*****
Good Friday is coming, and in a way this scares me just a
little because every Good Friday we have a family tradition: we watch “The
Passion of the Christ” together. After church, after taking communion, after
walking out of the building in darkness and silence, we gather at home to watch
the most heart wrenching movie I’ve ever experienced.
“The Passion of the Christ” is hard to watch, and yet, I
force myself to do it because I think it’s good for me to be reminded that
Jesus suffered too.
There’s that scene when Jesus, having been beaten nearly
unrecognizable, is handed his cross and he’s expected to carry it up the hill
to Golgotha, the place of his crucifixion. Blood and sweat drip from Jesus’
forehead where his executioners have smashed a crown of thorns into his skin.
Bruises already begin to show around his swollen eyes, nose, and lips. His
anguish is palpable as he stumbles slowly uphill, step . . . by step . . . by
step.
Finally, Jesus falls, unable to carry his cross any longer,
and a stranger is summoned from the crowd to carry it for him. The man is
strong, healthy, vibrant, but this heavy cross is hard for even him to carry and he
stumbles too.
We know the rest of the story. Jesus is nailed to that cross,
unjustly accused, and dies the same tortuous death as the thief next to him. In
just one day he experiences sorrow, helplessness, grief, and much more.
He knows my burdens.
*****
Thank God the story doesn’t end there. Thank God for Easter.
Thank God for the heavy stone being lifted away and for an empty tomb.
Thank God that he sent someone stronger, healthier, and more
vibrant than me to carry the burdens I cannot bear.
Some days I just need a savior.
