In a few short days my family will be congregating to mourn the passing of a beautiful woman. My grandmother passed away three days ago, and I’m just now allowing myself to fully grieve the death of the woman who took such delight in calling me PuaNani. I will miss helping her buckle her seat belt; I will miss seeing her bobby pins scattered along the bathroom counter; I will miss hugging her ever-diminishing frame. And I am heartbroken that distance is forcing me to miss the gift of shedding tears and grieving with my entire family.
It has been many years since my heart has been this broken. Three years ago I was trapped in the emotional brokenness of a hard break-up, and the heartache was so thick that I learned a new method to manage the pain—I went numb. For the first time in my life I had managed to turn off my emotions. My sadness was too great, and the weight upon my heart too heavy, so I learned to live detached from pain. This came at great cost. I was not simply detached from the pain, but indeed I had managed to detach myself from all of my emotions. I became superficial in most of my relationships, especially in my relationship with God.
I knew that in order for healing to take place, I would have to return to the place I last felt emotion- which was the hardest and most broken place in my heart. I couldn’t go back there. I had made an agreement in my head that if following God was going to be that painful, then I didn’t really want to keep walking with Him. I lived like this for several months until I heard a particular sentence one Sunday in church.
“Jesus understands your heartache.”
Something so simple, but so monumentally significant for my heart. How many times had I heard that sentence before? Only then, when I was in the midst of pain, did those words come alive. Jesus understood my heartache.
Jesus understands what it’s like to want to stop following God because the road ahead seems too painful. Jesus understands, because he experienced that desire too. He prayed in the Garden before he was crucified to be delivered from His cup, ie His coming crucifixion. But in the midst of that pain his prayer continued, “not my will be done, but yours.”
I knew that in order for healing to take place, I would have to return to the place I last felt emotion- which was the hardest and most broken place in my heart. I couldn’t go back there. I had made an agreement in my head that if following God was going to be that painful, then I didn’t really want to keep walking with Him. I lived like this for several months until I heard a particular sentence one Sunday in church.
“Jesus understands your heartache.”
Something so simple, but so monumentally significant for my heart. How many times had I heard that sentence before? Only then, when I was in the midst of pain, did those words come alive. Jesus understood my heartache.
Jesus understands what it’s like to want to stop following God because the road ahead seems too painful. Jesus understands, because he experienced that desire too. He prayed in the Garden before he was crucified to be delivered from His cup, ie His coming crucifixion. But in the midst of that pain his prayer continued, “not my will be done, but yours.”
I followed God to New Zealand, and I’ve cried more in the last 4 months than in the last year combined. I have come to believe that when my friends and family are hurting back home, the distance between our hearts multiplies the pain I feel for/with them. It is here, in my brokenness, that I’m re-learning truths I learned three years ago. God knew that I’d be missing weddings, pregnancies, miscarriages, and funerals when he invited me to follow him to New Zealand. And I am finding comfort in this: that as he reviewed all that I’d be missing, he still said IT IS GOOD for you to be with me in New Zealand. God thought it was better for me to come to New Zealand than for me to stay at home. Wow.
I must confess that several times I’ve looked to the sky and questioned, “Why did you bring me here? Why am I in New Zealand? Why did you give me this invitation? Why did you give me this gift? This gift is too hard.”
Can following God lead to brokenness? Yes.
Can brokenness be a gift? Yes.
It is by the Grace of God that I am able to receive this gift of brokenness, that I am able to say, “not my will be done, but yours.” And it is by the Grace of God that we can declare: Jesus, I will follow you into deeper waters even when I don’t know how to swim.
Why is it that we can wade into deeper waters, even when it is painful? Because Our God enables us to walk on water as He calls to us from the beautiful and terrifying unknown.
I must confess that several times I’ve looked to the sky and questioned, “Why did you bring me here? Why am I in New Zealand? Why did you give me this invitation? Why did you give me this gift? This gift is too hard.”
Can following God lead to brokenness? Yes.
Can brokenness be a gift? Yes.
It is by the Grace of God that I am able to receive this gift of brokenness, that I am able to say, “not my will be done, but yours.” And it is by the Grace of God that we can declare: Jesus, I will follow you into deeper waters even when I don’t know how to swim.
Why is it that we can wade into deeper waters, even when it is painful? Because Our God enables us to walk on water as He calls to us from the beautiful and terrifying unknown.
“If you do not cut the moorings, God will have to break them by a storm and send you out. Launch all on God, go out on the great swelling tide of his purpose, and you will get your eyes open. If you believe in Jesus, you are not to spend all your time in the smooth waters just inside the harbor bar, full of delight, but always moored; you have to get out through the harbor bar into the great deeps of God…Beware of harking back to what you were once when God wants you to be something you have never been.” Oswald Chambers, June 8th, My Utmost for His Highest
It is in brokenness and victory, pain and joy that I write to you,
PuaNani
PuaNani
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