I gave up after I lost Joshua. My hope evaporated. I told anyone who asked that I was done. No more children. And I meant it.
And now I sit here, feeling my son kick me. Feeling his life. A miracle.
I am so thankful God was not intimidated by my stubborness. I'm thankful that Mark held on. I am thankful for the one sentence my best friend said to me, one I have carried since- "You can't give up on life because of death." And I am thankful that God saw fit to carry me through with faith, if not with hope.
We only see part of the picture, don't we? Less than that even. We have a small window into our life, while God knows the full story. He knows our choices, the things we will go through. He knows it all. The shame. The joy. He knows what we will hide from, and what we will embrace.
In my loneliest of times, Christ has been there. He has set up vigil in my times of darkness, has dogged my steps when I turned and ran. He has been there. I remember sitting, weeping, as I paged through my Bible. I was looking for-something. And there was a painting of Christ in the garden, all of His companions asleep. He whispered to me "I know loneliness, I know despair. I know fear." And I believed Him. He knows of everything that I can go through. Any human emotion, any experience. There is such comfort there.
I know we all have different picture in our mind of God. We carry it all our lives. But for me the picture has changed, from age to age. When I was a child, I saw God as a far away diety, waiting to pounce. Later, I was angry with what I felt was a vengeful God. And then, the picture cleared.
I see Him now as I believe He wants me to see Him. As a healer, come for the sick. As a teacher, to show us how to live. As a leader, to give us hope. And also, as a broken man alone in the garden. As a Savior, forgiving even as He dies. As a Messiah, rolling the stone away. They are all Him.
And the most beautiful picture of all- as Abba, father. Come to rescue me from myself, to hold me and carry me when I am weak. To be there, rejoicing with me. To look at ME- not me, but ME. As I am. Wholly. And to still love me. To still give and take from me, because He knows more than I do.
So I'l leave the bigger picture to God, and I will be content with mine. The picture of a God who rushes in to fill the voids left behind by the world, the one who comes when everyone else turns away, the one who gathers up what is broken and lost and mends it.
