The weight of suffering

I know that brokenness will always be part of this life, this side of heaven.

Things are just not quite right here, are they?

Sometimes that brokenness hits me like bricks, and I feel my stomach knotting.

The other day I just cried and cried thinking about the effects of brokenness that have touched my friends and my family and me.

There is neglect, past abuse, infertility, betrayal, addictions, and death.

It felt so very heavy.  And broken.  It hurt.  and exhausted me.

My mouth opened as if crying out for help, but no words.

The tears wouldn't stop coming.

A friend of mine once asked me if I thought there was a such thing as intercessory grieving because she had wept for a friend as if it was her own pain.

I think there is such a thing as intercessory grieving.


And right now, I'm remembering this - that Jesus intercessory grieves for me when I feel pain.

That He prays to the Father for me and for us.

It's mysterious to me.  But comforting.

Comforting to remember that He was "a man of sorrows, acquainted with bitterest grief."

That He is not indifferent or immune to our sufferings.

He knows them intimately and well and actually feels them with us.  I wholeheartedly believe this.

While I'm grateful for my sheltered, carefree, relatively painless childhood, as I've grown up, I've learned what the world is really like,...the weight of brokenness that presses down on people,...even God's children,...with the threat to steal hope and leave despair.

A friend of mine in college had done a word study on the word "burden."

She told me that the Greek word for "burden" in Galations 6:2 was related to the word "knapsack."

Bear one another's burdens,

and so fulfill the law of Christ. - Gal. 6:2

While the Hebrew word for "burden" in Psalm 55:22 was related to the word "boulder."

Cast your burden on the Lord,

    and he will sustain you;
he will never permit
the righteous to be moved. - Ps. 55:22

And I thought about what I'm able to carry (in my "knapsack") and what I can't possibly carry ("boulders").  Some things are just too heavy.

Thank God He carries those.

Thinking about all these burdens, I came across this book, written by Joni Earickson Tada.  She knows a thing or two about suffering.

When God Weeps

It just came in the mail, and I'm eager to get started.  Here's part of what I've read thus far:

"This book is about God weeping over human heartache, his entering our anguish himself, and the love that drives him to let us suffer.  It's about experiencing the friendship of God along difficult paths we didn't even know he walked."

Joni 
source

I'm looking forward (I know those words may not sound appropriate) to learning more about suffering with hope, experiencing My Father's great love in the midst of heartache, and to learning how to better come alongside people who suffer.

Some of the questions that Joni wrestled with are:

• If God is loving, why is there suffering?
• What's the difference between permitting something and ordaining it?
• When bad things happen, is God in cahoots with the Devil?
• How can he expect me to be happy this way?

And no trite answers to those questions will do, will they.

Sometimes all I can see is the sadness.  But I know my view is limited.  That helps.

And when I am still, I marvel thinking back on how the comfort of His presence in my past low times really has somehow, mysteriously, been....enough.  And that I can hope that it will continue to be enough.  For me.  And for those dear to me who put their hope in Him.

Another year. Another Plaza Art Fair.

It's that time of year again!

Time for the 82nd annual Plaza Art Fair.

Last year, I attended as a Kansas City newbie and wrote about the experience here.

This year, with a year of residency under my belt, I felt right at home.

Here's a glimpse.

standing by my favorite painting of the day (the one with the leaves)

This year, I kept gravitating towards calm, nature-y paintings.

This one was part of a "clouds" collection.

(pardon the reflection)

I thought this one was fun.  It just evokes "Girls Weekend Getaway" doesn't it?  That would be a good title for it, I think.

And the drippy paint acting like rain in this one bid me stare at it, even though it's a very different feel from the happy one above.

kind of mesmerizing

She had a whole collection like that.

Another artist was displaying these, made from clay.  Matt wasn't a fan, but I thought the white-on-white was somehow appealing.

There was no shortage of sculptures.  Made from all kinds of materials.

I've been into blues and greens lately, so these paintings attracted my attention, even if they might be considered boring (and easy to come by) compared to the conversation pieces in the other booths.

It was perfect weather for sitting in the grass and eating lunch by the water (which, regrettably, I didn't do).  No wind.  Low 70s.  Clear.  Perfect.











So here's to you, Plaza Art Fair!  You did not disappoint and did a fine job ushering in Fall.