Ants and Broken Bones and Favor...

I may write a book about ants.  Which is utterly ridiculous, seeing as how I have virtually no knowledge whatsoever of the creatures.  Other than if I find them in my house I spray them with whatever sort of spray I have on hand... vinegar, windex, oven cleaner... I don't care, as long as whatever it is obliterates or at least slows down the creepy critters.  So why would I write about ants?  Funny you should ask.  I had this "thing" happen yesterday.  I won't call it a vision, 'cause as badly as I need a vacation, I really don't want to spend any amount of time in the place with the men in their clean white coats... But it was definitely something that was just kind of THUNK... placed in my brain.  And it had me wondering about ants.  But I'll have to work through it a bit, see if I can make any sense of it.

So enough about ants.

But there was this other thing too.  About broken bones.  I really hate cliches...  you know those annoying phrases that "they" (who are these oddballs anyway?) use to shut you up when something is bothering you, and by the time you sit there trying to figure out what the platitude actually means, enough time has been afforded for the speaker to escape unnoticed?  Yeah, so anyway, I really hate cliches.

So I'm not really sure why this one hit me yesterday.  And I haven't even really gotten to what I want to talk about, because I'm so concerned that people will think I am one of "those people" for using the cliche in the first place.  All this to say, I am emphatically NOT one of "those people" ok?  I don't know why I'm thinking about broken bones.  I believe God is talking to me about broken bones (ah yes, and now with the men in their clean white coats again...) but you can be the judge of that I suppose.  So here goes:

I have always heard that when a bone breaks, whatever occurs during the healing process (and I only took A&P I and II, and was in so much shock over the sexual health chapter that the rest of the quarter was lost on me, so don't hold me accountable for any real medical information) makes the bone stronger. And this elicits in my mind, the voices of "those people" saying things like, "Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger."  And this is supposed to make us feel better.  And as the freaks sneak out the side door we are thinking, "Hmmm... that time I fell off the top bunk and cracked my head open... no it didn't kill me... but I've had this weird tick ever since..." and wondering how this information is supposed to help us feel better after our jerk boyfriend/girlfriend just broke our heart when it can't even be applied in a shallow physiological way.

So here I am again trying to convince you I am not one of "those people" when I really am just trying to avoid getting personal.

People are messy.  There are things about us that just don't make sense.  There are these "broken" places, things, whatever... within us that just don't work the way they're supposed to.  It happens on an individual level and it happens within relationships and churches and institutions and places of business.  Anywhere there are people this brokenness can happen.  And when my brokenness and your brokenness come in contact with each other, the whole broken factor is just compounded.  It's a mess.

A good example of this is what happens in marriage.  2 messed up people.  Especially if they've not dealt with their own messes.  It's a disaster.  But it's true what "they" say in this instance.  It is possible to come out on the other side stronger.  My husband and I have been through some shit.  I don't know how else to put it really.  Just some really horrible stuff that nobody should have to go through.  I cannot count the times I thought the only way to fix things was to get a divorce.  Seriously.  And that's some of my brokenness showing through.  But in that moment... the pain makes me think of when you break a bone and the doctor goes to set it... and you think in that moment... I. Am. Going. To. Die.  But then there's this relief.  Like, Ok, at least things are back on track.  That really really REALLY hurt, but I'm still alive and my bone isn't poking through my skin anymore, so that's cool.  And then before you know it the cast is off and the memory of that pain is mostly gone (until I write about it and you get that tingly nervy reminder all over) and you're tempted to jump off the top bunk again to see if your skills have improved any since the last time you nearly killed yourself.  Marriage can be like that.  Those scars serve as powerful reminders of where we've been and where we do not want to go.  But there is also a strength there.  A Wow, all we did was set up the bone, but God did this amazing wondrous healing of the human body thing that only He can do.  I'm not sure, but I think this is called "favor."  I've been reading a bit about it and while there seem to be varying opinions out there on the matter, favor appears to be an unwarranted kindness,  preferential treatment, or something God can do for you that you can't do yourself.  I like all three of those definitions.

When I was a teen, I had an eating disorder.  I exercised several hours a day and kept my calories under 300 calories.  It was terrible.  I was about 100 pounds, but when I looked in the mirror I *actually* looked fat.  Really, I can't explain it.  (Again with the men in their clean white coats, I know, I know...)  I mean when you are a size 0, your eyes should see and register to your brain *skinny* but mine didn't.  Something was broken.  Something wasn't right with me.  I'm still not really sure what exactly it was, though I have a hunch it's fixed now 'cause I ate two pieces of cake the other day and it was super tasty.  I did halfheartedly joke about applying for The Biggest Loser, but I was seriously only kidding and I never count calories anymore and I believe my husband when he says I'm beautiful.  When I was in the midst of that terrible time, there was this lady I knew.  Her name was Sheila.  I babysat for her kids over the summertime.  I think I was 16 or 17 at the time.  One day when the kids were napping, I was snooping around and found this cassette tape.  It was like a teaching, a sermon or something about ministering to girls with eating disorders.  I listened to the whole thing and confessed what I was going through to the lady when she returned home that day.  She told me how beautiful I was.  What a special person I was.  How talented I was.  And then she wrote down a Bible verse reference.  Not the actual verse, just the reference.  And told me to go home and read it by myself and ask God what He had to say to me about that.  The verse was Joel 2:25.  I will never ever ever forget that verse.  "I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten."  I don't know if you believe in prophecy.  I mean for today.  But that was about as prophetic as I had ever seen.  God has done that for me.  Sheila set the bone and God went about His work, all the intricate healing that had to take place to make that bone strong and straight.  Honestly I can't even really tell you what happened to make me better.  I just know it was a miracle.  And I really am stronger today because of where that brokenness has healed.

I know that is favor.  I don't deserve to be fixed.  I certainly couldn't fix it myself.  That was all God.  Only He can have the glory for the amazing ways He has turned my broken life around for good.  These things that happen to us to break us.  They don't destroy us like you'd think.  They build us up if we let them.  Like all the little calcium deposit-y things that pile up in a bone break to *I think* (again don't quote me on that) make the bone stronger.    This happens in each life and each relationship and each church and even obnoxious institutions like our government or GM could probably learn a thing or two by being open to relying on God's favor.  It's a trust thing.  It's a humbling, broken in a different way, realization of how big God is thing.  It's something you can't do for yourself, but something your Father longs to do for you if you will decide to depend on Him.  Scary, but true.