In summer heat and light and abundant life, in the passing of time, I found I had died. Or so it felt then. A milestone birthday, they say, but I remember only the loss and pain. A sense of separation so deep I was adrift outside myself and everything and everyone.
I think of it still. How can I not? What good is such pain?
Finding meaning in the hurt only comes with time because we need space to experience God’s radical grace.
What I was living before was shallow. No living waters, nothing to dive deeply into. It was a faith worth losing. And the pain was about losing the familiar, losing who I thought I was.
Because before we can be a part of God’s transformative work, we must first be transformed and redeemed.
God makes space for us to kneel and be humbled and become something like new. But not just once, always. For at the heart of Christianity is death and resurrection.
So the pain is never without purpose. You haven’t wrecked your life yet. Because it is through our brokenness that we come to know God.
And we don’t go it alone. His love is always extending out towards us. He is always working in us and through us for his glory.