Gloriously wounded, wondrously broken

Image copyright: SJ Creative

GRIEF insists on changing us. We are changed for the moment, and change is occurring, and keeps occurring, whether we like it or not.

In grief is the reminder that life is not right. We may be haunted by a truth that just seems too stark. Yet it’s incredible how, from hindsight, we can adapt to such a state of intrapersonal chaos. We learn that we’re vulnerable, and ultimately we learn to accept how vulnerable we are.

The key to coming close to God in our grief is to accept that we are gloriously wounded, wondrously broken — for His glory, and for His Kingdom’s sake. There is nothing sadistic about this. It is pure genius on the part of God to enable us a way to thrive even, especially, in a season of torment.

Not that the season is made any easier. Indeed, it’s the depth of our woundedness and the breadth of our brokenness that drives us deep into the heart of God. This is where God’s Presence is cavernous in all the best ways. Unfathomable is His comfort when we are forlorn, yet reaching for Him alone, believing in His Presence, even as we lie there abandoned, seemingly wasting away.

It is interesting that my memories of this Presence that God shared with me were during a dark night season many years ago. Such a Presence was known in grief, in the search, in the faith of His intercession, and in His unfailing Word, which I devoured. The most glorious mystery is that these moments, few though they were in number, have compelled my faith ever since.

Now God’s Presence seems to work a different way. No longer is there the abysmal season of grief, but there is the starkness as it returns for a day here and a day there. It’s like God wants to remind me for others’ sake, that there is a rich legacy in being kept connected with our grief. It is dearly a rich possession.

Glorious is the accepted truth of woundedness — it is what it is — and so, too, the wondrousness in brokenness. These two give access the Presence of God, such that others who are not stricken by grief do not have the privilege of such access. God draws near to us, the broken-hearted and overwhelmed, when we seek Him with all our heart.

When the season is untenably tough, yet God’s Presence is undeniably real.

We are gloriously wounded and wondrously broken when we find the true God through it.