There he goes again! He’s. Driving. Me. Nuts.
Ah . . . you thought I was referring to my husband. Nope. It’s this crazy bird!
No lie. Some jacked up, on-a-mission red bird rams right into my morning, day after day after . . . well, you get the point. As I sit at my computer, Crash. Bang. Boom. I race to investigate the ruckus. Yep, it’s him. In rapid succession, this crazy bird flies smack dab into my glass door.
Nothing deters him. This repeated act of futility doesn’t remotely weaken his resolve. It won’t phase his pace. Just when you think this fella can’t endure one more slam of blunt-force trauma, he smashes in fiercer than ever.
You would think after hours of wasted work and squandered sweat, this irrational bird would get the message. He’s not breaking past this barrier. But nope! Without the slightest apprehension, he’s right back at it when the sun rises.
The whole ordeal leaves me wondering, “Where. Is. His. Mama?” Surely she would intervene, advising against such meaningless measures. After all, that’s what moms do, right?
As I ponder a little deeper and muse a little longer, I realize that perhaps this bird isn’t so uncommon after all. Irrational? Yes. Rare? Not so much.
It’s ironic, isn’t it, this tendency many of us share. We exert enormous energy toward meaningless endeavors that perpetually trigger pain and disappointment. Hold that thought.
Have you ever suffered betrayal by someone you trusted deeply? Maybe you’ve agonized emotionally at the hands of another. Have you endured physical brutality that left every part of you paralyzed with fear? Perhaps some sick soul ravaged the innocence of a defenseless girl’s sexuality, leaving you to pick up the pieces alone.
The wound cut deeply, metastasizing like a cancer to every part of who you are. Regardless, you determined to move forward, leaving yesterday’s anguish in the rearview mirror.
Just when you’re sure it’s buried, just when it’s finally licked, the unexpected erupts in your story. The situation pushes you right back into those familiar reactions that pain birthed.
From that place, we create haunting habits. They tend to grip tight, refusing to let go.
The significant relationships of our lives see the destructive patterns that we so easily justify. Nevertheless, we roll out of bed in survival mode each new day, ramming into the same brick walls of life. It’s what we know.
Hear me. It’s time to stop beating your head against the wall.
What if we let go of the stronghold that’s been holding us captive far too long? What if we began holding strongly to the only One who can completely heal the hole housed in our hearts?
The reality is that we can’t fix ourselves. If we could, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation, would we? A wound so much bigger than us takes a God so much greater than us. My whole life attests to this Truth. “God heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He cures our pains and our sorrows” (Psalm 147:3).
Notice that this Healer won’t merely offer a patch. He doesn’t simply soothe the pain. It’s in the Father’s very DNA to stay the course with the brokenhearted, completely mending and restoring the shattered pieces. This Healer sticks it out with those who feel left out. He bends down to those who feel let down. You’ll never have all the answers but you can rest your life in the One who IS the Answer.
It’s time. The wall isn’t budging. Besides, you weren’t made for pain. You were created for purpose. Stop slamming into the same hard places. Spread your wings. Fly in a new direction that makes you better, not bitter.