I never fail to be amazed at the overwhelming joy that I feel every time one of my children says “daddy” or rushes to give me a hug at the end of the day. They can make me laugh faster than Letterman or Seinfeld. They can lift my spirits and restore my enthusiasm for life.
The therapeutic impact they have on my life cannot be understated.
However, an unexpected consequence that their presence has had on my life is a more intimate connection to and understanding of sadness.
It seemed that I was largely impervious to the ravages of sorrow before I welcomed my first child into the world. Sure, I had had disappointments and loss before.
But when Chloe entered the world and Cassie soon followed, I began to be overwhelmed by the weight of hopelessness in this world.
I was ill-prepared for how often I would feel weak and powerless.
I was unaware of how impotent I truly was.
This juxtaposition of the conflicting feelings of joy and sorrow has been sometimes difficult to deal with. I’m happier.
But the sadness in my heart is more palpable than ever.
For example:

  • I grieve for the family in Florida who entered their daughters room to find that she had been kidnapped during the night. I used to love to read true-crime stories. Now, I feel the pain of those left behind.
  • I feel a pang of guilt when I see the elderly gentleman eating alone in the restaurant who looks forlornly at us and wonder what his family situation is.
  • I hurt when I read the USA Today article on the lives of 16 year olds extinguished so young because they were too inexperienced to properly handle a vehicle.
  • I cry for the family whose daughter fights for her life in the hospital.
  • I cry for the child who will never know a parent because death came too soon.
  • I lose my breath when I think of the inevitable disappointment my children will feel when they realize that I cannot right all wrongs or fix a broken heart.

It seems every day I am stricken by the despair and despondency that accompanies this world. I realize now, that I needed children to feel first-hand that level of heartsickness.
I needed the joy to feel the sorrow.
The euphoria to experience the heartbreak.
Likewise, until I was able to see the promises of God I was unable to see the true extent of my need.
Before I saw the breadth of forgiveness I was unable to see the depth of my sin.
I was able to traipse through life unaffected by how destitute and bankrupt my soul truly was.
When I see Jesus I am truly able to see my need.
Jesus makes all things clear. He makes all things New.
He heals the broken hearted.
He turns tears to laughter.
He turns sadness to joy.
Do you see Him?
If you look, truly look, you will see Him.
But you will see more.
Much more.
You will see how much you need Him.