Sunday is on the way.

This morning, I read the post I wrote on Good Friday a year ago. At that time, our daughter was sick and I sat here, broken, aching to be there.

Here I am. Another year has passed and I’m still half a world away. And, once again, I’m broken and aching to be there holding her. Friends visiting have told me she isn’t feeling well again. I can hardly wrap my mind around any of this pain. Knowing all of the moments that I am missing out on… the mundane and the beautiful moments of parenting. All of them, out of my grasp.

My words from last year ring just as true today…

“On this, the darkest day in the history of mankind, I am feeling utterly broken. I am longing for my Jesus like never before.

As we place the cross on our Lent tree and reflect on His sacrifice, I sit speechless and raw before my King.

Today, our daughter is sick half a world away. She was diagnosed with severe malaria, typhoid fever, giardia and a respiratory infection. I am immensely grateful that she is in a hospital where she will receive treatment for at least the next three days before returning to her orphanage. Yet, I am helpless to comfort her. I am helpless to care for her. I am helpless to calm her fears. My heart is aching and shattered.

Today, I have glimpsed a unique component of the crucifixion story. I can identify like never before with the heart of Mary. As she watched on as her perfect and spotless son was tortured and crucified, I can only imagine that she was helpless, aching, and shattered. She knew since that first meeting with the angel, that this day would come. She knew He was never really hers. She knew He was the Son of God, the Savior and King for all. Yet, her heart was that of a momma. I can assume that her heart looked on with fierce love as her baby was hurting and her arms longed to reach out and wrap Him in her embrace. To provide comfort. To protect Him from the pain.

I have sat in transfixed awe as my Jesus has shown me the beauty of His love over and over again during the course of this adoption. He has shown me that I can love someone not of my flesh with every fiber of my being. He has shown me that His heart breaks with the oppressed. He has shown me that He can make all things beautiful and He can heal brokenness and pain. He has shown me that He defends justice and mercy. He has shown me that His love for me is given freely. He has shown me that I am His daughter, adopted into the family of Christ. And, today, He has shown me that the hurt and the pain of this day is as fresh and real today as it was two thousand years ago.

I have these words from my Savior on my heart today…

“Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” {John 17: 33}

“I’m not asking you to take them out of the world, but to keep them safe from the evil one.” {John 17: 15; emphasis mine}

I’m reminded that, like those who sat at the table breaking bread with their teacher and friend dumbfounded as He tried to explain that He would be poured out for them, I am unable to see beyond the hurt. I cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end {Ecclesiastes 4:11}.

Therefore, all of my hope rests in the One who poured out His own life as an offering to cover my sins, my brokenness, my hurt.

My hope. My Savior. My King.”

Every fear and sorrow of Friday became tears of joy on Sunday, so if your life feels like a dark Friday, hang on, Sunday is on the way. – Jennifer Rothschild