Two years ago, I wrote about my daughter's theory of bike riding. As we took off the training wheels, she said, "Little hills mean little boo-boos and big hills mean big boo-boos." My husband said that we should just find the little hills then, and my 5-year old said, "No, Dad, we just need bigger band aids."
She knew the adventure and the freedom was worth the pain.
As I continue to find the brokenhearted in our region, I think about the big, dangerous hill that we travel down when we enter into our own pain and the pain of others. We don't need to be afraid; we don't need to stay in silence. We don't need to stay safe on the little hill.
We conquer the biggest hill of our suffering, and we'll need a bigger first aid kit.
In this first aid kit for the brokenhearted, I've learned so much about prayer, about truth, about the role of creativity in healing, about the beauty of devoted community, and about the power of God to heal. I've learned the role of telling your story, of believing the victim, of walking side-by-side, of laughter, of crying, and of rejoicing that, as my friend mentioned this morning, we have "treasures from our trials."
I'll ride down this hill with you. I've got a great first aid kit right here.
What would you add to a first aid kit for the brokenhearted?