we ran last night . not intentionally, not like we were supposed to, but wearing skirts and tights and boots and scarves and that green jacket that my wardrobe seems to revolve around . we had been discussing grace and beauty . and pain . and how deeply pain characterizes our lives . deep in thought, thinking to far-back and not-so-far-back pasts, we lost track of time .
so there we were, seven and a half minutes before we had to be at the performance . so lost in thought that we forgot all about it . hence, the running .
we walked into the performance, sat down as the lights dimmed . we were breathless, alive, and enjoying the subtle feeling of rebellion ( because we all know that being almost late to a performance is a great act of rebellion ) . as the music played and the actors slipped into their places, we settled down, adjusted our backs and our necks so we could see clearly, and we waited with still breathless anticipation for what was coming .
and there it was : there on that stage, played out by a few actors on a minimal stage, accompanied by emotionally charge music, there was the truth we had been searching for .
their daughter was not right, had suffered brain damage . they had done tests, tests that confirmed that something was wrong and needed to be fixed . they came home and wondered their next steps, still holding onto hope that there was a mistake and everything would soon be normal again .
he realized it before she did, he realized that their daughter-- the little girl that had been so long prayed for and waited for and loved-- she might have not been this way were it not for the doctor's error . that if the doctor had somehow acted quicker or differently or somehow done better, their precious girl might be okay . he became the picture of bitterness and revenge; she, his wife, embodied grace . he called the lawyer and demanded a trial, while she rocked the baby and called this all right, a gift . he accused the doctor of terrible things . this doctor who had been their friend for many years was now no more than a man who had ruined their plans and their future . the doctor denied it all, said that there was nothing that could have been prevented .
but as the doctor left, he remembered .
he remembered that his son had helped during her delivery . this son that was studying to take over his medical practice, he was almost competent . the labor was long, twenty-eight hours long, and she had already been through so much . the pain was not light, and in his pity he gave her more and more and still more medicine . and in his trying to prevent her pain, the doctor's son caused infinitely more pain, for the medicine went to that precious girl and caused brain damage that affected the rest of her life .
so there, having returned to their kitchen, the doctor cried as he said
"the thing that was supposed to prevent her pain actually caused more pain .
no one likes pain . but sometimes, pain is good . pain is necessary ."
*
and there is the answer that we had searched for, before our breathless run, even before we opened our hearts tonight . i'm so tempted to question why -- to question why the person closest to me turned out to be someone completely different, leaving me unsettled and almost betrayed . i wonder why that accident happened, over six months ago now, and there is still so much pain . where is this God who promises good things and why is there so much pain ? i've been searching and beginning to find answers, and tonight confirms this :
everything is grace . in every circumstance, every painful morning or night, there is grace .
every circumstance .
there is grace in that feeling of betrayal and despair . there is grace when you're at your lowest, only to be brought lower at the news of an accident, news of so so many people hurting now . there is grace when you're overwhelmed by your semester and more and more keeps coming and there's no end in sight . the reading assignments are large and the motivation is fleeting and the eyelids won't stay open . there is only so much coffee and green tea that can help .
but even here, there is grace . there is profound beauty .
even in the pain, there is beauty . and that's the beauty we are searching for . we search for beauty that lasts, eternal beauty . because yes, while that light pouring through my window is beautiful, breathtaking even, there is beauty that is far lovelier . Jesus is far lovelier . so this is my lifelong journey, my lifelong goal : see the beauty of Christ in everything . i'm not merely searching for pretty things, i'm searching for the heart-aching beauty of the gospel . because it's here . it's found in everything, even this moment . so stick around for this journey of mine ? this journey of choosing to look through this pain, not wasting it or trying to shake it off, but embracing it and giving thanks for it and saying it is good . because He is good . and He is infinitely beautiful .
