I recently read a book by Mary Beth Chapman, the wife of Steven Curtis Chapman, which talked about the journey that she and her family have been on since the death of their 5-year-old adopted daughter in 2008. It’s a hard read sometimes because of the deep, deep hurt that is expressed, but it is extremely encouraging through it all.
One of many parts that stuck out to me was this:
A while after the death, the family took a water pitcher outside to throw it onto the concrete where their little girl had passed away, and afterwards, they were going to take the broken pieces of the pitcher and glue them all back together. It was a different kind of way of reminding themselves of God’s work and healing in their lives…a picture of it.
She says, “Our idea was that the mended pitcher would leak water, our reminder that in our brokenness and eventual healing we would leak out the comfort to others that we ourselves had been given.” The idea was inspired by the verses at the top.
When we go through tragedy, God doesn’t leave us in our brokenness. He picks us up and brings us a healing that only He understands. As a mended piece of pottery would leak out water after water is poured into it, we can leak out comfort to others that God pours out to us. It’s not that His work isn’t perfect; it’s just that we won’t be complete until we see Him. Our scars allow us to be a witness to others and show them how God continues to heal us. We can then comfort them in their tragedies and sufferings.
If we go through terrible things, we may never see a complete transition back to the way things were before or to the way we think things should be for us here on earth. That doesn’t mean that God isn’t working through it all. He’s entrusted us with something to tell others about. We can tell them how we have seen Him work through an awful situation and bring good things out of it. One day, though, when we reach eternity, we will be completely whole.
In 2007, I went through an 11 hour back surgery to correct a severe case of scoliosis that would have eventually (if left alone) resulted in me being paralyzed in crookedness at an older age, for lack of a better phrase. The next day, my dad died of a massive heart attack. I stayed in the hospital for a week to recover and had to miss his funeral. I never knew that when I said, “Goodbye,” to him when I was wheeled away into surgery, it would be the final goodbye. Also, after hoping that I’d never have a surgery again, I had another back surgery a few months later to repair some internal (scoliosis-correcting) equipment that had been damaged after a fall, and my dad’s dad died a few days before.
It was a period of brokenness. I remember people asking why we weren’t mad at God about it all. My mom could have had to plan two funerals that week; some people have died in the first surgery I had. For me, it was a big success, and we were really grateful. Even in the midst of the pain of loss, we were comforted and experienced other big blessings. Yes, we had much pain, but He’s helped us through that as well.
I don’t tell these things to get sympathy but to tell of how the comfort that I received in my brokenness can hopefully also lend comfort to others. I have scars (metaphorically and literally) and bad memories that I won’t ever forget, but one day everything will be perfected when this life is done. I have seen tremendous healing brought about by God even since then, and I’ve seen God bring about many good things even after tragedy.
As Steven Curtis Chapman’s son, Caleb, said, “When you’re real close to a painting like this, it’s hard to focus, it’s blurred, and you can’t see what’s going on. You have to walk really far back, and then the whole painting comes into focus and you can see what the artist was doing. That’s what this experience is like for us. We’re just really, really close to this mess…but I think the farther we get away from it in time, the more we’re going to see this picture come into focus.” He also said, “I can tell you, because I’m in the midst of this, that Jesus is real, and man, He shines through some really, really dark places.”
So don’t forget: you’re not alone, and He’s not finished with you yet.
