Hudson and the Hill

While Hudson and I were taking a stroll down the river path the other day, Hudson learned what a hill was. In a bad way. Seeing the paved path sloping down ahead of us, I went to take his hand like usual to gently guide him down, but I guess he was excited about a giant stick in the near distance, and quickened his pace, getting just enough ahead of me so that I was unable to stop the inevitable -  the momentum of the hill pulling that little body farther ahead than the little legs could accomodate, and a near face-plant, stopped only by two teeny hands instinctively reaching out towards the cement. After it was all said and done, Hudson bravely scraped himself off the path to a kneeling position, saying, "Ouchie, ouchie," and I knelt beside him and gently took his hands. He then said, "Better? Better?" ("Mommy, kiss it better!" in baby-speak). So I kissed his scrapes and patted his bum and soon he was off to retrieve his original goal - Mr.Huge 'N Pointy Stick.

Having had just a few scrapes and bruises in my life (and the scars to prove it - I was, and am, quite clumsy at times!), I knew just where to kiss to make it all better. I remember that burning feeling on the palms of my hands from taking the full brunt of a slip-trip-and-fall onto the concrete. Falling off bikes. Scraping across grandma Riggins' cul-de-sac on rollerblades, attached to the back of Chad's bike. Splatting on the cement floor of the basement after a viciously hard "plane ride" down the stairs from one little sister who shall remain nameless.

For some reason the other day after "fixing" Hudson's boo-boos, something came to mind that I read recently:

"The struggles that you're going through now - don't discard them. Listen to God as He teaches you, so you can teach others, You see, a time of suffering teaches us something we never knew before and may prepare us for a time for counsel that we will give someone years from now."
-Max Lucado

Instead of holding our struggles, hurts, wounds hostage, keeping them from others so we have all the appearances of "perfect people," should we not open up at the right time so that we can help someone else in a time of desperate need? Think of those times that you were hurting, and felt so alone because it seemed like no one else in the world would be able to share what you were going through. Maybe you sought help. Maybe you didn't. Maybe someone came alongside you to help you get through it. Maybe there was no one there, or maybe you didn't let anyone in. The fact of the matter is - we need to let ourselves heal - sometimes by forgiveness (others, God, ourselves...), sometimes by time and space and many other variables, but sometimes by seeking the help and counsel of people who have been in our shoes. The other part is that we need to BE those mentors for others with similar hurts in their lives. I have much to learn in this area. And I'm not answering the question of why shi**y things happen in our lives. I'm saying that despite everything, God is still in the business of helping us pick up the pieces, of  finding diamonds in ashes. And our role is to facilitate this by offering hope to another hurting human being. Even if it's a simple as kissing the scrapes on their hands.