A few weekends ago Aaron took the boys to Lowe’s Hardware to make Mother’s Day gifts for me. Considering the fact that last year I received cacti for Mother’s Day (there was a tall one and a short one potted together – Aaron said they reminded him of Smith and Charlie) I was pleased that perhaps this year I would get a more appropriate gift. 😉
The boys came home with lovely little planters they had each built for me along with flowers that they had “planted.” Aaron had also bought each boy a small plastic toolbox with a hammer, some screwdrivers and a pair of pliers.
Charlie has loved his new toolbox with his name painted across the top in red nail polish (it was all Aaron could find around the house) but he would rather carry his tools in his hands than in his toolbox. He has enjoyed “working” on the back deck by hammering in all the loose nails.
One evening recently as I was sitting on the deck and Charlie was hammering away he decided to come closer to where I was. He gathered up all his tools in his tiny little hands and began shuffling over. As he walked he kept dropping things; he would stop to pick one thing up and drop something else.
By the time he finally reached me, frustrated, upset, tired, he cried out “It’s so heavy!”
and I replied with: “Well, then, put it down.”
And I thought but did not say to my frustrated 3 year old:
“Why do you have to make things so difficult?”
“Why do you insist on doing everything yourself?”
“Why can’t you just let me help you?”
As I got up from my seat, silently huffing and puffing in annoyance over my child’s budding “do it my-self-ves” attitude, I realized …
Don’t I often do the same thing? Don’t I often shuffle through my day with my hands full, weighed down, struggling with burdens that my Father wants to carry for me?
How often do I insist on doing things “my-self-ves” without asking my Father for help?
I recently had lunch with a very dear friend. Her mother passed away suddenly a few months ago and my friend has yet to allow herself to grieve over it. She feels that she can’t, that she has too many things to take care of, that she has no time to grieve. She has an aging father to care for, a young daughter, her work to keep up with. But the harder she tries to hold it all together the closer she gets to having it all fall apart.
But maybe that’s okay.
Maybe we have to drop everything, allow it all to fall to pieces, release our hold on all that we’re carrying around in order to allow God to take it up.
I imagine my friend’s heart and I see it as being loosely held together by the band-aids she has used to try and repair her broken heart. Band-aid upon band-aid; they are beginning to come undone.
When the moments of grief and heartache and panic threaten to come she quickly slaps a band-aid over the wound and attempts to move on with her day.
But she can’t hold it together forever.
She can’t mend her broken heart.
She isn’t meant to.
Only Jesus can do that.
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
He said to her: “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”
O Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me.
Melissa sang this song with our worship team in church yesterday morning. Pay attention to the lyrics ….
“You are the Savior
And you take brokenness aside
And make it beautiful
He has made everything beautiful in its time.
Will you allow Jesus to heal your brokenness? Will you give it to him?
Stop trying so hard to heal yourself when that isn’t your job at all.
Allow Him to remove the band-aids you have used in an attempt to heal yourself and give your brokenness to Him.
Allow Him to heal you.
Allow Him to turn your brokenness into beauty.
And He will.