Healing Touch
As our son’s substance abuse spiraled out of control, our family began to move to a strange, new kind of dance. One that was completely foreign to us. He would experience periods of sustained drug use — then treatment, recovery, and relapse would follow. Hit the repeat button. These were the steps to this new dance, the rhythm of his life twirling, propelling, sometimes throwing us across the dance floor. 1-2-3-4, again. 1-2-3-4, again. This pattern went on for years. A direct correlation between his quality of health and my level of despair developed. I was either spiraling downward with his drug use or my hope would rise when he entered a season of treatment and recovery. The longer this dance continued the more our lives resembled a rickety, runaway roller coaster perilously close to falling off the tracks.
It became increasingly clear there was work to be done in my life. Anger, fear, distrust, hopelessness had set up residence in my heart and mind. Doubt in myself and God.
“Why Lord?”
“Are you here?”
“Have you abandoned us?”
“How could this happen to our beautiful boy? To our family?”
“I’m so sorry I failed you.”
“Do you even exist?”
“Do you care?”
“Do you love us?”
Finally, “Please Lord, take me. I cannot bear this grief, this hurt. It’s too much.”
Curled up in a ball on the kitchen floor, He met me where I was at. So broken — but heard. He understood the groanings of my grieving heart. He had all along. In that moment, the still, small voice of God spoke to me through His quiet, sure presence. His language was one of comfort and peace — “I’m here child, right here. I’ve always been right here.”
Healing touch.
Enveloping grace.
Redeeming love.
He began to mend the broken pieces of my shattered heart that day in the kitchen on the floor. He did not remove my sorrow, but taught me there’s a way to gracefully dance on this broken road called life — when we breathe and move in His grace, we experience more of His grace. As He reassures us of His love and fills us with His steady peace, we find that heartache and contentment can coexist. This is a process to be sure — every moment of every day.
When my children were young and the teacher wanted their attention she would say, “1, 2, 3…eyes on me.” Can you imagine Jesus saying this to us? Can you hear Him? How easy it is to lose sight of the Lord when the storm clouds of life make our circumstances appear so dark. Then Jesus calls us back to Him, “1, 2, 3…eyes on Me, child.” With our eyes fixed on Jesus we can view the future through a lens filled with hope and possibility. What a beautiful view.
I thought my son was the one in need of recovery. It turns out I was too. My own personal journey of recovery has begun and continues to this day. Though our wounds may be different in origin, soul deep healing is available to each one of us. God’s healing touch. His strength found in our weakness — His beauty in our brokenness.
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Beautiful Brokenness
“Meth heads” — “tweakers” With blackened teeth Incessantly scratching “Junkies” Arms and legs lined with heroin tracks Disgusted The world turns away Who is He? Reaching out with scarred hands The Wounded embraces the wounded Potential of beauty seen Healing touch Enveloping grace Redeeming love Scarred faces, arms, legs, souls Infused with the Savior’s love Beautiful brokenness.
The world. The church. My heart. Filled with judgement, self-importance, scorn We who think we are beautiful Oozing putrid pride Come to the One Reaching out with scarred hands Bring Him your bleeding souls The Wounded embraces the wounded Potential of beauty seen Healing touch Enveloping grace Redeeming love Scarred hearts and minds Infused with the Savior’s love Beautiful brokenness.