To Mend Me, He Must Be Torn

Caught that I might be free,
Blind in my womb
To know my darkness ended,
Brought to this birth for me to be new-born,
And for him to see me mended
I must see him torn.

From “Mary's song" by Luci Shaw

For Him to See Me Mended

Caught. Blind. Torn. These descriptions seem to be far from the freedom that Christianity preaches. In fact if you think about it, if Christianity were an advertising project, it would probably be a pain to sell. Sure, amazing benefits—eternal life, happiness, freedom!—but the cost? Your life. Yikes.

But Christianity isn't a product we consume. Christianity isn't something we choose because we want its benefits. It's not about a thing or a mere experience—it's about a Person. It's a relationship with the One for whom our souls were created. However, just like any relationship, it costs us something precious—our vulnerability, our deepest hurts, for it to flourish.

Is it worth it? Why yes! The returns are immaterial things that money cannot buy: the heart-melting intimacy, the gloriously sweet love, the incomparable joy, the unshakeable hope!

The Weakness Advantage

Isn't it actually comforting to know that the powerful means that our Savior employed in our rescue was not through grand unreachable strength and power nor the gaining of high regard and social status? Isn't it comforting to know that Jesus, knowing fully well that He was the Wisdom by which the universe was created, and one with the Father, has chosen to live His human life in humility, in poverty, in simplicity? Despite being the only One in the world who truly had the right to defend Himself as impeccably righteous, He didn’t see the need to defend Himself. He chose patience, forgiveness, and submission to the Father's justice.

Why do I say that's comforting? Because if our God who was anything but weak chose weakness and meekness to be the example of how we must live, then shouldn't that erase all the unnecessary striving we do to reach society's illusion of a “successful" life? In other words, we no longer have to build a facade of greatness or wealth. Instead, we just have to peel back the layers of our hearts and expose what's already there—the inner child who is weak and helpless without the Father. He's not asking us to strain forward; He's telling us to lean back.

Fall at His Feet

If Jesus has chosen humble submission to the Father's will, then so must we. But we shouldn’t seek to suffer from a place of false humility, crying, “Oh poor me!" It also doesn't mean that when we experience great joy, wealth or recognition that we are any less worthy to be called children of God. Not by a mile.

What this simply means is that when holy suffering is our lot today, then we must not resist. We must not strive to escape it. Instead, we must surrender it to Him. We must fall at His feet, in trust. Falling doesn't require any energy. We must trust that the God who has appointed it remains to be eternally good and steadfast in love.

But if our lot is the opposite—joy, recognition, victory, wealth—then we must do the same. We must fall at His feet, in gratitude. Do not strive to hold up the good things for as long as possible. Simply let it be, or you will run the mistake of thinking that such favor is connected to your worth or moral goodness. It is not. All of these things come from the sovereign decision of our good Father to bless us with things we do not deserve. Worship Him in gratitude for these good things, though they pass.

Keep Reminding Yourself

Have you pondered on the wonderful truth of the gospel today? This week? Perhaps if you're like me, you know the truth but often forget it. Frail humans that we are, we need to remind ourselves literally everyday about the good news. Besides this, we also need to constantly confess how little of it we actually truly understand.

But I am sure that God delights to reveal the depths of His heart to you. Keep on seeking Him.