Brokenness and Blessing

I suppose in a way, the title of this post is inspired by the title of a book I vaguely remember skimming to pass my upper level religion course and Bluffton University, History of Christianity.  The book predominantly, if I remember correctly, dealt with the authors eventual acceptance (the blessing) of disability (the brokenness) in a family member.

At it's core, what I remember from it is a story of what happens when (Western Christian) Scripture is read as a unifying story.  Creation, Fall, Redemption, Pilgrimage, Consummation.  The book cleverly avoided fundamentalism (as anyone who knows me knows I absolutely detests) while also not going too deep into reductionism as to negate the purpose of (Western Christian) Scripture.

I know a few posts ago I referenced the story of Jacob and his wrestling for a blessing with some unknown entity.  That's in the weird, awkward, puberty-like stage of the Christian Bible that is post-fall, but way, way, way before Redemption.

I remember watching my nephew wrestle in what is probably the only wrestling match I've ever seen.  He was great, really great.  Until the last match he was in.  Make no mistake, the other kid he was wrestling against was some kind of Hulkian monster, so much muscle in relation to body fat.  It was over way to fast, my nephew never stood a chance.  But, to his credit he lasted a lot longer than I, his father, and his grandfather gave him credit for.  Now he wrestles in Florida, and is making the family proud with how well he is doing.

No person deserves to go up against cancer.  It's big.  It's Hulkian.  It's unexpected.  And some people, rightly so, give up right away.  But I had one of my client's guardian's tell me today over the phone that she doesn't believe that I'm taking this laying down.

That gave me pause.  As far as it is clinically appropriate, the families that I work with know what is going one with my health.  Meaning, they know when a disruption in service is coming.  And I work with the families whose kids are at risk of being removed from the home because the kid's behavior is so bad.  That doesn't mean the kids are bad, not by a long shot.  It means that the kids are dealing with more shit than a kid should ever have to deal with, and their families want to make it better.  I work with what could be considered "broken" families.  And that's one of the areas I find my blessing in.

I'm getting ready to wander in the desert.  Facing chemotherapy, maybe surgery.  And yet I chose to fight for people that I have not reason to fight for.  Because to me, that matters.  I've fought the fight against the system.  I know more than most, that the "system" is broken.  But, I chose to get down into the trenches and wrestle with the ugliness that is a broken system.

I'm entering into my wandering in the desert phase.  Starting to look for my Manna from Heaven.  "Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me."  While there is a huge chance that that quote is misatrributed to Martin Luther during the Diet of Worms, I can't help but relate.  I'm out of places to turn.  This is where I am, and nothing else matters.

I stand waiting.  I stand, still waiting for my blessing.  Waiting for redemption.