Broken people

She was tall and blonde, athletic with a big, wide smile.  

She stood before a small group of women to share her story and had been introduced as a former head of the local chamber of commerce and active on various non-profits.  

She had organized hundreds of Christians to share their faith at the Salt Lake City Olympics.  

She was beautiful, friendly and she loves Jesus.  What's not to love?

Or perhaps, what's not to envy? 

Before my husband died, I'm ashamed to admit I had divided the world into fairly neat categories of people.  And the irritating, grumpy ones, the ones with some misbehaving brats?  They were tolerated with gritted teeth. "What was wrong with 'you' people?  I'm behind you in a grocery line and you're buying junk food and cola. Of course your kids are rotten.  And you look like something the cat wouldn't drag home.  Can't you get yourself together? And get over your attitude."

Then I became the weird woman in line. I cried and fled from the men's underwear section. I saw his favorite lemon meringue pie in the freezer case and walked away from my grocery cart.  I went out in public without looking in a mirror and people sympathetically asked how I was feeling.  Clearly I looked like I "couldn't get myself together."  On good days I was distracted and distant in the checkout line; on bad days, I was the grumpy, disheveled women.  

And in that season of grief, my heart was broken and I understood. Everyone in line, everyone in the store, everyone I meet is either going through something or will.  We live in a broken world and we are broken people.  Jesus came to walk through the human experience. He give us His spirit to indwell us and walk within us, to walk through life.  But no one gets a pass on suffering. 

So it was with our speaker. She stood before us in her cute, short white skirt with her long tan legs. She looked great and poised.  She had notecards and a outline with more points than most sermons.  She asked us to think about our times of doubt.  She spoke of her family and their doubts. Then she repeated herself and strained to keep to her notes. 

Finally she lay them down and said, "You know why I'm here.  Last year I was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. I am not a doubter and I know God is with me but this is a horrible diagnosis. This is hard. My family can't understand how this could happen. My husband can't handle this."  Her voice cracked and her eyes filled with tears.  And at once, the whole room leaned in with love and sympathy.  She admitted her brokenness- in this case, her brain is breaking down and there is nothing medical science can do to stop the inevitable mental decline to death.  Now she lives in an independent living apartment, a step away from assisted living. Then it will be a nursing home.  

She is 52. 

And then she spoke of joy. Of learning to appreciate each day and looking for ways to share her faith with other people. She wonders if there is a ministry waiting in the facility she now lives in.  She wants to make the most of each season before her. 

The best of her life appears to be behind her and the light of her life will begin to fade, much faster than she anticipated. 

 This beautiful, 'all together' woman is one of the broken.  So am I.

May we continue to bring forth beauty. Even in the fading light.