When Hope Healed Broken and Scattered

I opened my eyes today, and for the first time on this date in forty-two years, there are no tears. I  wrote this on the anniversary of my mom’s death. To write these words is a miracle. I believe God is in the process of doing a work in me, but I never imagined this possible. I’ve lived with the ache of unresolved grief and burdens for so long I couldn’t fathom life any other way.

I read Looking for Lovely by Annie Downs this week. In her book she states, “I had to be broken to be rebuilt, but breakdowns seem to often come before breakthroughs."

And man, have I been broken. Broken and scattered.

But God…

He is restoring my brokenness one piece at a time. He didn’t forget where all the pieces were scattered. What I didn’t know was that He’d already picked up all the pieces and kept them safe until I was ready to put them back together.

"He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted...and provide for those who grieve in Zion...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor."

Isaiah 61:1-3

I had to return to my five-year-old self and come forward to see the life He ordained before I took my first breath.

The thing is, I have hope. I can feel His Spirit healing me and it’s because of Jesus; the same Jesus who came to earth in the form of an infant, lowly and meek. The same Jesus who traveled to Jerusalem with His parents at the age of twelve and stayed behind at the temple. The same Jesus who gave His mother fits when she couldn’t find Him, and they had to circle back to retrieve the young lad. When His parents found Him he said, “didn’t you know I’d be about my Father’s business?”

This same Jesus approached the woman at the well, healed the sick, raised the dead, and resisted temptation from Satan himself.

This same Jesus sweat drops of blood in the Garden of Gethsemane as He agonized over what was to come. This same Jesus prayed for me in John chapter 17, and every believer throughout the ages.

This Jesus went to the cross and died for me. He arose for me and makes intercession to the Father for me…and you.

This is the Author of my hope. He is the reason I get up in the morning. He is the reason I had no tears on December 14th.

This Jesus has been my healer and protector. He has been my deliverer of more fears than I can count. He is the lover of my soul, faithful, and true to His Word.

He will do the same for you. Your date on the calendar no longer has the power to hold you prisoner. He will set you free and give you the same hope I have. 

This flesh and bone story of Jesus began long ago in a manger, in a land appointed by God on high, but it continues today in a risen Savior who dwells in us. He is the One who heals our brokenness, forgives our sin, and changes the way we view ourselves. 

At Christmas, and always we should celebrate Him as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. He lives, He reigns, and He will return for all who believe in Him.

May you have the merriest of Christmas holidays!