Shingles fly past the window. Debris falls with a thud. Everything looks of an ending - a death of sorts. With each rip, what is under becomes exposed. The old is done away with, making room for the new. This is how life is, is it not? Only in the stripping away, the tearing apart, is the soul exposed. Could much of the answer lie in the simple fact that I cannot discover Grace until I know myself? Maybe the long sought after healing lies in the fact that my heart must be broken, the falsehood that covers must be torn apart, before the truth of who I am can be revealed.
The Master never wounds without planning to restore, never allows suffering without intending to heal. Redemption is always at the core of His plan. But sometimes, it's hard to see the hidden Grace. It's hard to picture life coming from death. When everything around you shows decay, ruin, a world fallen, where can you view the Divine? Where does hope show itself? Is it not in replacing the broken with the whole, in exchanging a death for a resurrection? The ripping, the tearing out must take place if I am to transform. Everything that has sealed in the decay must go. Truth must replace the lie. Exposing is the path to life, to joy, to fullness. Hiding only holds in the sin. Only keeps the darkness in deeper. To truly experience the mending is to witness the rot. To acknowledge the pain is to open up to the repair.
Gentle Hands put pieces together. New replaces the old. Parts come together. All is made well.