Rising

Imagine it, the beginning of the movie, blurry, wobbly, a scene of the sky with faint noises behind loud ringing in slowed motion. This is heartbreak.

I come confused, I come feeling blind, I come now.

“The trip has been cancelled.” My heart races. No – please no. I have to leave. “The team is going to Spain instead and doesn’t have a set plan for what they’re doing.”
 “That’s amazing, tell me more.” Aaron went on to talk about the trip and then said, “Applications closed last week, and they aren’t taking anyone else on the trip.”
 “Wait, wait, bear with me Aaron. I will be an asset. I’m begging – I will convince you to take me!”
 “Really, most people are intimidated there’s no plan.”
 “I am here for it! I want in.” Aaron graciously listened as I fumbled through my crude elevator pitch selling him on “me.” Who knows what I said, or what it was that this man believed in me. “You’re convincing me, I think I can convince the leader of the trip.”
 And so – here I am.

Still stumbling, blurry vision, ringing ears, barely conscious still – the questions start flooding me. Am I running away? Am I a coward? What am I doing? What do I want? How do I recover from the deferred hope? Heal from promises I held in my heart that turned into lies? Feels like poison. Oh no, more questions… Will I get through this? How long? Gosh, how indecisive, that’s a fault to fix. Judging again, not good. Lord, where are you? What’s going to happen? I thought I knew; do I know nothing now?

Hush. Truth still stands amidst my questions.

I know there’s a cross. What are these tiny things in the span of a lifetime, and how much smaller with the glimpse of Heaven. What is heartbreak next to the cross? How can I fathom how strong, how secure my Jesus is. He gave Himself for me. While I ran away, when I loved the gift more than the giver, when I broke my promises, when I was a thousand times worse than my own Judas, Jesus still loved me. I am awed by His goodness.

I come to this trail broken.

Yet Jesus is making it a sweetly broken journey as I find Him coming into every place that I stand broken, betrayed, and bruised. Even more, Jesus comes in every place where I fall short. He comes close to the broken hearted.

He has all the details in His hands, organized and attended to better than I ever even thought… all before I even woke up this morning. You know… He is the best administrator. It’s a privilege to watch how He does it! Lord, open my eyes that I may always see Your wonders. I don’t want to miss them. Perhaps it’s no accident I end up hoping on the boat last. He knows all these things.

I come to this trail broken.
 But I come with Christ. I am not alone.