The View Looking Down

DISCLAIMER:  This is the second blog post in a row that has not ended up going anywhere I thought it was going to go when I began.  I always start writing with this mental story map of what I’m going to address, but twice now I have started where I chose to and ended up somewhere completely different.  (Thus the randomness of some of that last post.)  But I also truly feel that where I have ended up, on both of these blogs, is exactly where God has wanted me to be so I have purposely chosen not to throw them out or try to reconstruct them into what I had originally planned them to be.  All that to say I hope that what I have written here is meaningful to you in some way, but please excuse the mess if the path of logic seems a bit under construction.  I have been honest from the start that I selfishly write for my own personal therapy, so I guess this is just your chance to see how my mental processes wander in the light of my daily circumstances.  I thank you for loving me anyway.

How exactly does one get to this point?  How is it that Satan can destroy a family from within and those whose lives are being shattered don’t even see it coming?  Is it really possible to be so utterly blindsided and not simply have been duped or oblivious or blind to reality?  And once it happens, where do you go?  When nobody else in your family or circle of friends had a heads up either, where do you start looking for someone to understand what is going on?  Where do you turn for answers and support without having to continually rehash what is completely incomprehensible to you in the first place?  I just don’t understand how all of this is supposed to work?  But maybe that’s just it.  It’s not supposed to be anything like this, and that is what makes it so hard.

I can remember years ago sitting in church, about halfway back in the “old” building of Faith Lutheran in Franklin, TN, and listening to the pastor challenge the congregation to stop looking up at the cross above the altar and instead imagine what the view would be like looking down from it.  I don’t remember when the service was, I suspect it was most likely Good Friday or during the Easter season, and I couldn’t tell you which pastor was preaching that day, but I can tell you that this particular challenge had a profound effect on me.

Have you ever done it?  Have you ever imagined such a thing?  Try it.  It doesn’t matter if you use the image of a hanging cross in a church sanctuary or the cross of Christ at Golgotha, just try it.  Close your eyes and imagine what Jesus would see if He were there upon it today looking down at those of us who come to worship Him.  Would He find us looking up?  Or would He find us looking inward?  Would He find us focused on Him?  Or would He find us focused on ourselves?  Or would He simply find us broken – able to see straight into our hearts, knowing the secret fears of each soul in front of Him?  Imagine it.  Look past the church, tune out the pews, search behind the masks, beyond the smiles and cordial Sunday pleasantries, and imagine.  Don’t see what we see.  Imagine what Jesus sees. 

Rather humbling, isn’t it?

It is quite often that I have thought back to that sermon and found myself in church on Sunday morning trying to put myself into Jesus’ place.  Not to be Him. Not to measure up to Him.  Not even thinking I could possibly know what He knows, but to remind myself that He sees the real me.  When I am hurting, filled with sorrow, lost in confusion and drowning in doubt – He knows.  He sees it all, no matter how skilled I have become at smiling and nodding at those around me.  It doesn’t matter that to the family two pews over it appears to be just another Sunday with that Shipley lady wrangling her kids, goldfish crackers falling on the floor, kid activity bags spread far and wide, and whatever other chaos those around us in church deem as “normal” for my pew.  Jesus sees past all of that.  He sees what is really inside.  The real part.  The hurt and shame and desperation for His love that we have all trained ourselves to keep hidden when we choose to.  Personal anguish skillfully disguised behind stoic eyes that so often don’t really serve us well as they simply keep others from knowing that we are hurting in the first place.  Because, honestly, wouldn’t it be better if we just let it out?

What if the dam could just break and the tears could just come and the pain could just ease and the friends could just know and the church could just help and we would all no longer feel like we are alone in our troubles because Satan has convinced us that our problems are ours to bear alone?  But that doesn’t happen.  Unfortunately, the dams stand firm and the domino effect never begins because we buy all the lies...

-They don’t want to be bothered by my whining. 

-They have problems of their own.

 -If I share too much/too often they will get tired of me and then I will really be alone. 

-This isn’t their burden to share. 

-It hurts too much and it’s better to keep it in. 

-I’m so embarrassed I couldn’t possible let anyone know. 

And on and on it goes.  And all the while we are dying inside in silence while Satan is dancing on our graves.

But Jesus sees things so differently.  He calls us to do exactly the opposite.  To stop hiding and to start healing.  To stop worrying others will push us away and to instead reach out and draw them closer.  To find beauty in our ashes by finding connections with others.  Jesus never meant for us to do this all alone.  When He looked down from that cross He saw our faces spanning across all of time and He never turned away.  He looked straight into us and He did what He had to do to keep us in His sight forever.

But Jesus is no longer on that cross.  He is still looking down on us, but now it is from His throne of glory.  And we must remember that while He still sees me, He doesn’t just see me.  He sees His church and He wants us to be there for each other as His hands and as His feet.  We aren’t just here to suffer through our own little messes and then die at the end of the day.  We have a calling and we have directions delivered directly from our Heavenly Father and they specifically tell us to meet each other in our needs.  But for you to meet me in my time of hurting I must first let you know that it exists and that is more challenging than all the rest of it.

I am very blessed to have a devoted family that has never once hesitated to help me in my confusion, longing, grief or need since my current troubles began.  They immediately surrounded me in prayer and love from the first moment I shared that my husband was leaving.  Is any of this new reality something we ever imagined?  Hell no.  But it hasn’t broken my spirit or that of my children, my parents, or my siblings, their spouses or their children.  We mourn the loss of my marriage, the death of dreams that will never be realized, and futures that are irrevocably changed, but we all stand firm in our knowledge that God is far more powerful than any earthly chaos and, as my sister continually reminds me, He is WAY bigger than the biggest Boogie Man.  And just as Christ promised to send the Holy Spirit to comfort and to guide, that is exactly what He has done each and every day of this journey as my family has met me in my need.

And then there are my friends.  What an enormous blessing each and every one of them has been to me no matter how much or how little I have shared.  They have provided me dinners, shared songs to inspire, and continually covered me in prayer.  Some have called regularly to offer up encouragement and others have simply just been willing to let me vent.  And a precious few even sent me to a hotel for a night to give my mind and heart a genuine break from reality and opportunity to rest. 

Even in my most alone times, when Satan has whispered those nasty lies above in my ear, it has been my family and my friends helping me hold fast to the lifeline they have thrown me that continues to help reign me in.  No check-in too short, no email too trivial.  Each word of encouragement salve to my soul. 

You see, this truly is the body of Christ.  The very thing we are called to be.  The view of us from the cross and the throne that I am sure brings tears of joy to His eyes as He looks down and sees our interconnectedness.  As He sees that His suffering was not in vain as we accept His gifts of redemption and shower them on each other in our times of need.   My pain is very real, and my need is greater than any I have ever experienced in my life, but I get out of bed everyday knowing that I am not walking this road alone.  God is holding me in His omnipotent hand and I am surrounded by people who love me and want to help.

So do not hesitate the next time you see a cross on the wall.  Stop.  And imagine what the view would be like from the other perspective.  Who is it next to you, near you, behind you or in front of you that is keeping their sorrows and needs tucked neatly behind their eyes because they are believing the lies Satan is selling to keep them feeling unworthy of support?  It is not weakness that makes them susceptible to misleading, it is merely our human weakness that can make us unable to fend off the lies alone.  It’s not going to be easy to tell, and I say that from experience for I am just as guilty as the rest of shoving it down and packing it away so that no one can see anything but a forced smile on my face and the charade of “everything’s fine”.  But that doesn’t mean you should stop looking.  It just means you should look harder.  Because trust me on this one too, once you find just one hurting heart that truly needs you… the blessings poured out upon both of you will leave you forever wondering why you never searched so hard before.

Nobody asks to be stuck in the middle of hard times.  No one seeks out misery and covets the day their life will feel like it has been shattered.   But those things really happen.  They happen to people just like you and like me, and there isn’t always a heads up before the storm comes rolling in.  But no one should ever suffer alone, and especially not because we as the church weren’t looking for where they hurt.  There is always an answer to the call for help and a promise of resurrection and survival as long we rely on the One on the cross, and He has tasked us as a church body to help deliver that healing touch to those hurting right in our midst.  Don’t miss out on that opportunity to help and certainly don’t miss out on the opportunity to heal.  Instead, take the time to stop and focus on the cross.  And imagine for a moment what the world around you looks like from the crossbeam looking down.  You may find, to your surprise, that there is a need that can you meet standing right in front of you.

For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.  1 Corinthians 14:33

**The music from The Story carried me through many sorrows and pain this past Christmas season.  If you have not experienced it I highly recommend you listen to the entire collection, but the following songs have been particularly encouraging to me and I thought they may be to you as well.

How Love Wins – Steven Curtis Chapman

When Love Sees You – Mac Powell

It Must Be You – Bart Millard

Be Born in Me – Francesca Battistelli