When I see the mess, I see the end. The mess is part of the beauty. It’s more than the hope of capricious wishful thinking. It’s the kind of certainty that makes it feel like a cheat for faith. Damaged people are my favorite. The wounds are something to be grafted to. Take a community of broken people and watch them form bonds that no green twig can challenge. A body formed and grafted by the pieces of others to build a seamless Temple to house the worship of them, The Pardoned. The man with decades of wounds can write his worship from the depth of his pain and lead the rest in a song that seemed like it was written for them. “Rescue me, Rescue me.” And the forgotten places cry out in unison. Two or more gathered and the valley of dry bones raises up with a new Spirit and the freshness of Breath.
A lot of our wounds were inflicted by those who were supposed to be safe. When they stepped outside the Truth, they got cut off. And you, because of your faith in Jesus, found sanctuary in the very place they said you could not come.
So I ask, did they stumble in order that they might fall? By no means! Rather through their trespass salvation has come… -Romans 11:11 ESV
Through the failure of the insider, the outsider gets to run to the Truth. The forgotten, the wounded, the lamb with a limp, relies more on the Savior than the guards at His tomb. They think He’ll be stolen. They fear a contaminated scene. They don’t get it like the woman waiting to see the sun through her swollen eyes.
Someone will lay a foundation of need. It’s the accusations, the condemnations, the run around, and the judgment that usher in the Hopeless Procession. You get beaten down, lied to, your words twisted, and your sin exposed. You lose the right to your privacy, the right to your honesty, and the right to own your spot on your own journey. They take your name and make it a sin to speak. They take your work and make a curse to continue. You are left with a death to worth and to purpose. Your Human Race Membership has been abducted.
In that spot of anger and terror, of sorrow and confusion, you hear the Whisper call through the night. “Come.” Your memories, your bag of lead sins, the scars that you carry are heavy on your shoulders and heavier on your heart. You can’t take another step, not when you have no place to go. “Come to me.”
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” -Jesus, Matthew 11:28-30 ESV
There is a canyon between those who leave you and the One that calls you. He is different. He’s not like them. He is gentle and lowly in heart. Your Creator is gentle. The Sovereign is lowly in heart. The Lion of Judah is roaring your name.
“a bruised reed he will not break,
and a smoldering wick he will not quench,
until he brings justice to victory;
and in his name the Gentiles will hope.” -Matthew 12:20-21 ESV