Tonight, I am intrigued about the depth of the scars we bear on our souls. I had a conversation with a man on my softball team tonight about something, and it brought up so many thoughts and emotions that I haven’t revisited in a long time. It was about something that is a present reality in my life, but also something that I really don’t think deeply about very often. I began to recall some memories that I have evidently unconsciously repressed, because when I remember them they don’t seem real.

And then I am sitting in Chick-fil-a a bit later with my wife eating. I’m not feeling too well, which may have contributed to my state of mind. But much to my surprise, when I start telling Kristi about the conversation I had and the things it brought to mind, I start crying. Right there in the middle of Christian Chicken, with “Your Grace Is Enough” bursting from the speaker above my head. And it wasn’t just a stray tear that I wiped away…I had to use several napkins to dry my face. Part of me was embarrassed, wishing that I was a girl so I could just pull out the “that time of month” excuse for being emotional. Then I quickly decided that I didn’t care. After all, if you can’t be yourself in Chick-fil-a, where can you be?

I realized that the last time I had really thought and talked about this was almost two years ago, when I was interning with Midtown. I was having lunch with my friend Allen one day and I did the exact same thing. Except that time it was more like weeping instead of crying…

My, how deep our scars run sometimes! That things can simply resurface years later and turn you into a blubbering idiot? It is strange for sure. I guess it just speaks to the depths of our brokenness, and our utter need for hope and healing.

I felt restoration from my wife holding my hand under that speckled table, telling me it was okay that I was sitting there crying in a public restaurant. “I’m sorry you are sad.”

“I’m not sad. I don’t know why I’m crying, honestly. I’ve been over this for years. I guess I just needed to cry. Maybe tears are just God’s medicine that run down and help heal our cracks?”

I definitely just said “I just needed to cry.” Oh well, I don’t care.

What I do care about, infinitely more than I even realize, is that Jesus is the healer. He is ever-presently amidst the difficult work of restoration. He takes bad stuff and somehow makes it good, as Allen says. He is in the business of reconciling lost sons and fathers, husbands and wives, friends and enemies. He is the only source of hope for our brokenness. And these are not just words and sentences–they are things I have seen and learned and experienced, realities I have graciously lived. I know that Jesus is about healing and restoration because these realities have slapped me in the face and dragged me out of hopelessness.

And that is something to be thankful for, to possibly even shed a tear over.

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