I can imagine

"I can't imagine..."

These words often come out of my mouth these days...

Fill in the blanks - my kiddo getting cancer (or any other crazy illness I see everyday) - dying before my children - getting so angry at my child that I hurt them - forgetting to pick my child up from school - my husband ever leaving me - my best friend's husband ever leaving her - my parents dying soon - our church splitting - my house catching on fire - a tornado destroying our home - being estranged from my family - my husband dying before me - ever marrying another man - my child not sleeping through the night as a toddler - living on the streets - not knowing where my next meal will come from - having so much money that I could never spend it all and spend all my time trying - my child being a drug addict - my kids not knowing and serving Jesus - being Job.

Supposedly I CANNOT imagine it.

These words need to be dropped out of my train of thought - banished from my phrases.  It's such a cliche' - and one that honestly makes me feel better in the moment. Sort of.

Pretty much I use this phrase to describe anything that I have judged as unbelievable or makes me so incredibly uncomfortable in my flesh that I would like to believe that it is unimaginable for me.

These things have all been deemed "the-end-of-the-world" for me.  (Yes, as a naturally dramatic person, the end of the world is so incredibly overwhelming that at times you burst into tears just thinking about the possiblity of these things and forget to breathe.)

This is me. Raw.

And I find myself sickened at my sin.

These unimaginable things for me are some people's reality.  Some people have chosen their reality, some people are only a part-player in their reality and others have had no choice in their reality but it is what it is - reality.

(Side note: I hate the phrase: it is what is is.  I believe that everything has holy potential even if it can't be changed.  And I believe that being affected by something that you can't change is also a reality.  Just because it is doesn't mean that it doesn't bring you to your knees every day over and over.)

I was talking to a mom the other day in the hospital.  It was a simple conversation in the midst of a tough procedure for her littlest man.  It was their second hospitalization and he was sooo ready to be at home and so DONE with our tape-removing skills.  This mom is a woman who I could be great friends with and her husband and Ross would just LOVE each other.  I sat on this bed talking to this mom about how she allows bubbles to be blown in her house now cause that is just one more thing she doesn't care about anymore in the shadows of their new and heartbreaking reality.  And I thought, sitting on the bed, "I can't imagine..."

Except, actually, I can.  And that is what scares me and makes me utter the words every time.  I can imagine.  And I hate it.

I was on the phone the other day with a dear sister and her son, who is my age, is struggling with drug addiction.  I sat on the phone and as much as I don't ever want her reality, tears stream down my face because I CAN imagine.  And I hate it.

I got a letter that I had written to myself in college the other day.  It was an amazing letter but it brought me to my knees.  I wondered to myself if I would live to see my girls get married and have kids.  What if I didn't make it.  I can imagine not making it.  And I hate it.

My two-year old broke her arm the other day.  And before that day, my kid breaking a bone was an unimaginable thing to me (pridefully and because I have never broken a bone.)  Silly, I know.  I now can imagine. And I still hate it.

I had a miscarriage very early on in a pregnancy before Emilynn was conceived.  I have had friend after friend experience this unimaginable.  And every pregnancy since, I think, I can't imagine losing this baby, saying goodbye to this baby either in my womb or outside, or too early, or, or, or...  But I can very much imagine and I hate it.

And everyday the brokenness in me reminds me that the unimaginable is reality.  I do, say, and am the unimaginable at times.

There are the unimaginable things that are close to home because you can literally put yourself in their shoes because their life looks just like yours.  And then their are unimaginable that you can't put yourself in their shoes because you have no frame work.  But what I've realized with the Lord, is that in His grace, He gives you opportunities to see more, experience more of the unimaginable so that you CAN imagine.

And in your imagining, you can become His hands and feet.  Cause that is what Jesus is all about.  He has always been able to imagine.  He has always been able to put himself in someone else's shoes.  He took the Cross and He made it His.

If you receive yourself in the fires of your sorrow, he will make you nourishment for other people. - Oswald Chambers 

What if we receive ourselves in the fire of others sorrow?

I CAN imagine and my flesh hates it.  And the Spirit, He is using it.  The raw places. 

 He is making me nourishment to others by receiving myself in their sorrows.