Every Tuesday night for about 7 years now I go to a meeting for parents of kids who are struggling with addictions. When I first went I was desperate for help -- anything to "fix everything and make it be all right". Things have been 'all right' for 3 years now but I still go. I don't want to waste the experience and if I don't do something positive with all I gained it will not count for much. This certainly isn't a ministry I volunteered for nor EVER wanted but it's where I have been placed.
I have noticed over the years something about those who come through the doors of the "club" no one ever looks to join. Everyone comes in broken. They come in desperate for help, for answers. They've tried everything there is to try to fix their child. They come in largely as one of two distinct groups. One comes in broken and they know it. They admit they don't have answers, they don't know how to put the broken pieces of their family back together again. They know they need help and they aren't too ashamed or proud to admit and to ask for it. They pull their chairs into the circle…close in. They listen to the 'long timers' as they share their experience, strength and hope. They soak up the serenity of those in the circle. The other group of people that comes in are broken too. But they refuse to admit it. They hold their pain close to their chests with a plastic smile pasted on their faces. They sit in the chairs nearest the door…or even at times, pull their chair out of the circle and sit back behind everyone else. They leave just as broken as when they came in.
I think there is a parallel there in the way we come to the Lord's Supper. We can come to the table broken and knowing it. Knowing, somehow sensing that help is there for us and we pull our chairs up as close to the Lord as we can get…bathing ourselves in the healing power of his love and forgiveness. Or we come too proud, too ashamed, too hardened to admit we're there for us…not anyone else. We're there because we're supposed to be but we don't dare get too close to the table...and in so doing we miss the union that is ours in the taking of the bread and the cup--that sacrifice that allows for our wholeness. And so we leave just as broken as when we come in.
1 comment:
Wow, Michelle, that was beautiful. I think a few years back I may have been the one with the plastic smile, and I am so regretful of those years spent trying to make things look good on the outside. God is good, however, and gives many chances to come back to the table - sometimes through breakings not of our choosing. I'm so grateful for that.
Post a Comment