The Hurt and The Healer

"If anything ever happens to my dad, I will die. I will. I'll die."

 I said those words to a friend of mine about a year before my dad passed away. And I wholeheartedly believed them. My dad and I had a special bond that many father/daughter relationships can identify with. Our love was strengthened by a common passion for Texas Tech sports, mostly football. Of course our relationship wasn't always great. I went through a time of heartbreaking rebellion in high school and some of that continued in college. But I'm so thankful that we spent some great times together before he passed away.
  For years the loss of my father identified who I was. It was the reason I was depressed. It was the reason I made bad decisions. It was the reason my husband couldn't identify with my pain. I blamed a lot of chaos on this single defining moment in my life. But at a moment when I knew I had hit bottom, I realized that the loss of my father hadn't caused the world of hurt that surrounded me- I had. I got help.
 Over the course of the last couple of years, I have worked to be a better person. In doing this, I realized that I could never be a better person on my own, which I already knew. So I started asking God to help me in specific ways. "God, take away my desire to control everything. God, take away my judgemental attitude." etc.  I never expected what He gave me- a completely new outlook on life. Suddenly, I could see God in a new light...and everywhere. Before this journey, I knew without a doubt that I had a relationship with Jesus Christ. But something was in the way of me experiencing that love to the fullest. I found out that the something was me and all of my character flaws.
 My dad became ill with malignant melanoma during the fall of 2004. I remember getting the news that he had some "lumps" on his liver on election day. By Christmas, he had lost all of his strength and we did very little celebrating. By New Year's Day, he was in the hospital. On January 7th I told him "I'll see you later." I knew that 'later' might mean much, much later. He passed away that night. Because of the timing, Christmas has been difficult for our family ever since. My dad loved Christmas and I always thought it was because of all the singing and cheer and the lights and gifts...snow...family...the list goes on. He never wanted us to have a hard time at Christmas. For years I have asked God "why? Why Christmas time?" With my eyes re-opened I feel like I finally have an answer. Of course I'm sad and I mourn the fact that we don't have him here anymore. Some songs are especially tough to hear. But in the midst of that pain, I'm overjoyed with celebrating my Savior's birth. I have finally grasped the importance of God himself coming to the Earth and living among us. Praise God for Christmas! God's answer to me is this- with such great joy and thanksgiving in my heart while celebrating the birth of Jesus, I hardly notice the hurt that is a small spec in comparison to the Healer.
 Mercy Me has a great song out right now called The Hurt and The Healer. For me, Christmas is a time when the hurt and the Healer collide.