Painfully beautiful

When grief is born it is no different than a newborn baby, screaming, demanding attention, and needing to be fed. It consumes our time and energy, refusing to be ignored. As it becomes a toddler, we think we have it under control until it suddenly surfaces, like a public tantrum when you least expect it. In the school-aged years it develops manners—as we feel we have a choice as to when we experience it, like during a relevant to a conversation, but can control the level of emotion based on convenience. As a young adult, its takes on a matter-of-fact attitude—always present but often ignored; a backpack whose weight is forgotten because it never comes off. As an adult, it is an old friend—someone who impacted your life at one time, but who you don’t see as often anymore. You meet up for coffee once a year, able to pick up where you left off, yet with a mature perspective that the years have granted you both. 

As most of you know, February 26^th, 2015 is the inaugural date of the opening of the Hospital of Hope. Six years ago, all the work and preparation was celebrated in a ceremony attended by thousands, including the President of Togo.  One year later, to the day, our Director and friend Todd Dekryger lost his life to Lassa Fever.  Another year later, to the day, Tama, a small boy with chronic illness who we took cared of for months, not only in the hospital, but in our home, also went to be with the Lord.  It’s a heavy anniversary day for all of us, often filled with a mix of joy, sorrow, confusion, doubt, and hope. 

One of Todd’s relatives told me not long ago, “when I think of him, all I can do is smile.” It was an incredibly mature thing to say and something that I couldn’t say at the time, because it was so hard to move past the association of loss. I did wonder, what would it take to look at the pain in my life, both people and things taken away, and just be able to smile at the thought that we ever had them at all? 

 

I think it takes the constant reminders to ourselves about who God is. In this case, the fact that 

God is good....all the time. 

He knows how to gift good gifts.....because he knows us perfectly

He never leaves us or forsakes us....ever

He has overcome the world....already

He upholds us with His hands.....daily

His power is perfect in weakness.....my weakness

He renews the strength for those that hope in Him.....over and over again

 

I think this year was the first that I could experience February 26^thwith grief that was more like the old friend. Understanding it’s impact and grateful for even the painful years. I’m grateful I was able to be a part of the opening of this hospital, led by a visionary man whose primary gaze was upon the Lord Himself. I’m grateful for the laughter and passion he brought each time he entered the doors of the hospital. I’m grateful that I had a friend and colleague who could call me out when I wasn’t being the best version of myself. 

I’m grateful that a little boy’s mother trusted me (and my roommates!) to care for her fragile son in our home.  I’m grateful that we got to see a fragile boy grow into pudgy one.  I’m grateful for being able to deeply grieve alongside despite the language differences. I’m grateful that the Lord moved in that family to follow Him, and that we all be reunited one day before the throne of grace. 

 

I have no doubt that there are so many things to come that, in my earthly view, will be taken away. Friends, jobs, positions, dreams, plans..... But I do believe that the Lord is constantly moving us towards the direction of growth, sanctification, maturity....... in the direction of beauty. 

You might say this life is painfully beautiful, and I would definitely agree. But we serve a Lord who gives beauty for ashes, gladness for mourning, and praise for despair, and I know it’s true because I’ve seen it—not just in the world, but in me.