If anything can go wrong, it will. -- Murphy's LawSometimes life behaves. Plans work, people behave rationally, kindness wins over selfishness, nobody is nasty, love triumphs. But what percentage of the time is that true? What percentage of life already has Plan B in effect because Plan A didn't work? How much of life is a constant fight where rationality is forgotten, kindness is gone, nastiness is common, love is missing?
We're not supposed to notice times like that, or notice how often they come along. We're supposed to convince ourselves that rationality, kindness, and love are the rule and brokenness is the exception. But is that completely true? How much of that is looking at the best, how much is wishful thinking or goal-oriented, how much is self-deceit? How much is self-preservation in the face of the brokenness around and within us?
These are the things on my mind after a night like last night. I've been trying to get my mother to see the doctor for an ever-growing "growth" in her mouth for years now. This last month or so she's been dropping weight too quickly, so my brother and I tried again. As of last night, she's finally agreed to go see a doctor, but only after my brother and I take care of last year's back taxes never filed for herself and her parents who died recently. I'm not sure she can afford to wait any longer. I'm not even sure that we haven't waited too long already these last two years where every mention of going to the doctor was quickly put down. After devoting yesterday's and today's spare time to my mother, my home looks like a minor disaster area. And there are the everyday problems that need solving at work, and with my children. All my human endeavors have to be constantly tended to fix them wherever and whenever they break. Because left alone, things fall apart.
I tend to write what's on my mind, so today it's Murphy's Law and the brokenness of life. I'm really grateful, today of all days, that Jesus said he had come to seek the sick because they need a doctor, come for the sinners because the righteous don't need to repent, come for the lost because the found don't need finding. I'm relieved that he came with blessing for the brokenhearted and the mourning. I'm glad that, when he saw people looking harrassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd, he looked with compassion. I'm glad he meets us in our brokenness; there's nothing unusual about it at all.