I was on my way to my last physical therapy appointment earlier this week. I was pretty excited to be winding down with physical therapy that was supposed to have gone on for another couple of months at least. No longer limping and with pain becoming less acute every week, I was more than ready to be done with PT for the first time since July.
I was listening to the radio when a story came on about a man deployed in the armed forces who had e-mailed his wife's favorite local pizza place to order a pizza for her upcoming birthday. He had said that he would pay for the pizza with a credit card by phone on the day it was delivered. The pizza place, instead, took the initiative to send the pizza, along with a card and balloons, to the family's home the evening of her birthday- free of charge. They took a photo of the man's wife and son with the items and sent him the photo by e-mail - which brought tears to the man's eyes.... which brought a few tears to my eyes.
I remembered immediately teasing my own mother when we were children about the fact that she'd cry at Hallmark commercials. Like me, my mom is not a big crier. I have friends who cry on a daily or weekly basis. I am unlikely to really cry more than once or twice a year. The older I get, however, I'm more likely to cry at happy/touching things than I ever was as a child or younger woman... when I would not have been touched by those things. It made me wonder, "Why?" I'm the same person. Why would I be more emotional now than then? Why more tender-hearted? I'm not naive enough to think that hormonal changes don't play some role in my emotions these days, but there is something more.
Last night, my husband and I attended a visitation for a man in his early 20's who died of a heroin overdose. Seeing the photos of him as a baby, a sweet toddler, a young boy with no front teeth, a cub scout, a young man in braces, a smiling senior picture of him next to a tree, an eagle scout... just like so many other photos of my children - my friends' children - my peers' children. The story - the reality - was heart-wrenching, gut-wrenching - raw... a child of divorce - like our own children... whose parents now had to work together to plan his funeral - to grieve separately but with identical grief.
My last blog was entitled "Why do Good Things Happen?" This blog brings me back to that concept. What flooded my mind that day I shed a tear over a radio story was all of the other stories... the ones on e-mail and facebook that give you goosebumps. These are the stories that show humanity in such a beautiful light that you doubt in your heart they could be truth but can't imagine someone evil enough to make them up just to manipulate the emotions of the masses for no apparent reason.
When I was a child I thought the world basically good. The worst things that happened were people smashing our pumpkins at Halloween or trying to steal a bicycle out of our garage. As an adult, I am daily overwhelmed with the wickedness that overruns the earth. The murders, the infidelity, the fraud, the greed... None of these things would change with the passing of any laws. The laws God passed to govern the human heart back in Exodus were called The Ten Commandments. They were once posted in courthouses around this nation. They were considered a good standard to live by. Now they are considered inconvenient... irrelevant even. Even Christians say things like, "Jesus came so that I didn't have to be under the law anymore." I am the first person to be overwhelmed at the goodness of living under the abundance grace rather than under the requirements of law. However, Jesus's purpose was to fulfill the law so that I didn't have to fulfill it myself - because I am incapable. He paid for my many sins with his horrible death so that I can live as though the law never existed - having a great time - doing whatever my body feels is right? Greasy Grace. Greasy grace is not the lifestyle of a changed heart. It's the lifestyle of a heart that wants to change the goodness of God's original intent to fit the evil of my own desires. Was he really torn asunder in every possible way so that I could be selfish, greedy, and unfaithful? Was his skin torn from his body with a whip so that I could lash out in anger at others? Was he made a slave unto death and a cross so that I could enslave others to my own will or make them pay the penalty when they don't meet my expectations?
My heart is wrung.
I used to cry about the evil I saw in the world. My heart was immune to good, because I saw so much of it. I took the good for granted. Today, I am brought to tears by the goodness in the world, because I see so little of it. My heart is becoming immune to the evil. I take it for granted, because I see so much of it.
A broken heart tries to humbly live a life that is somehow worthy of the indescribable sacrifice that set it free in the first place.
I was listening to the radio when a story came on about a man deployed in the armed forces who had e-mailed his wife's favorite local pizza place to order a pizza for her upcoming birthday. He had said that he would pay for the pizza with a credit card by phone on the day it was delivered. The pizza place, instead, took the initiative to send the pizza, along with a card and balloons, to the family's home the evening of her birthday- free of charge. They took a photo of the man's wife and son with the items and sent him the photo by e-mail - which brought tears to the man's eyes.... which brought a few tears to my eyes.
I remembered immediately teasing my own mother when we were children about the fact that she'd cry at Hallmark commercials. Like me, my mom is not a big crier. I have friends who cry on a daily or weekly basis. I am unlikely to really cry more than once or twice a year. The older I get, however, I'm more likely to cry at happy/touching things than I ever was as a child or younger woman... when I would not have been touched by those things. It made me wonder, "Why?" I'm the same person. Why would I be more emotional now than then? Why more tender-hearted? I'm not naive enough to think that hormonal changes don't play some role in my emotions these days, but there is something more.
Last night, my husband and I attended a visitation for a man in his early 20's who died of a heroin overdose. Seeing the photos of him as a baby, a sweet toddler, a young boy with no front teeth, a cub scout, a young man in braces, a smiling senior picture of him next to a tree, an eagle scout... just like so many other photos of my children - my friends' children - my peers' children. The story - the reality - was heart-wrenching, gut-wrenching - raw... a child of divorce - like our own children... whose parents now had to work together to plan his funeral - to grieve separately but with identical grief.
My last blog was entitled "Why do Good Things Happen?" This blog brings me back to that concept. What flooded my mind that day I shed a tear over a radio story was all of the other stories... the ones on e-mail and facebook that give you goosebumps. These are the stories that show humanity in such a beautiful light that you doubt in your heart they could be truth but can't imagine someone evil enough to make them up just to manipulate the emotions of the masses for no apparent reason.
When I was a child I thought the world basically good. The worst things that happened were people smashing our pumpkins at Halloween or trying to steal a bicycle out of our garage. As an adult, I am daily overwhelmed with the wickedness that overruns the earth. The murders, the infidelity, the fraud, the greed... None of these things would change with the passing of any laws. The laws God passed to govern the human heart back in Exodus were called The Ten Commandments. They were once posted in courthouses around this nation. They were considered a good standard to live by. Now they are considered inconvenient... irrelevant even. Even Christians say things like, "Jesus came so that I didn't have to be under the law anymore." I am the first person to be overwhelmed at the goodness of living under the abundance grace rather than under the requirements of law. However, Jesus's purpose was to fulfill the law so that I didn't have to fulfill it myself - because I am incapable. He paid for my many sins with his horrible death so that I can live as though the law never existed - having a great time - doing whatever my body feels is right? Greasy Grace. Greasy grace is not the lifestyle of a changed heart. It's the lifestyle of a heart that wants to change the goodness of God's original intent to fit the evil of my own desires. Was he really torn asunder in every possible way so that I could be selfish, greedy, and unfaithful? Was his skin torn from his body with a whip so that I could lash out in anger at others? Was he made a slave unto death and a cross so that I could enslave others to my own will or make them pay the penalty when they don't meet my expectations?
My heart is wrung.
I used to cry about the evil I saw in the world. My heart was immune to good, because I saw so much of it. I took the good for granted. Today, I am brought to tears by the goodness in the world, because I see so little of it. My heart is becoming immune to the evil. I take it for granted, because I see so much of it.
A broken heart tries to humbly live a life that is somehow worthy of the indescribable sacrifice that set it free in the first place.
