We’re continuing our series on the creeping prosperity gospel. This week, we’re exploring “what God Promises,” and today, Amber Haines (my gorgeous and talented wife) has graciously agreed to share. If you’ve stumbled here from her place, I hope you’ll catch up with this entire series. Consider Amber’s words and join us in the comments as we work this out.
When I first believed, when I told Jesus thank you for His broken body, I understood it to mean thank you that His was broken instead of mine. I was eighteen then, and Jesus was where I landed, like I’d been thrown to Him naked by the hands of scribes and Pharisees. I was beautiful, trying to refrain and transform, zip my lips, lengthen my skirts, speak the truth. My new culture was to find Jesus and to let Him make my sense.
So when life did what it does, and my sense fell apart – when I realized that so much is still broken, I lost heart. I’ve lost it several times actually.
Seth and I here, we build at our marriage like it could crumble, treat it delicately. We have four sons, and every time they’ve bloomed inside me, my body has broken down a little more. The miscarriages and sick church and unforgiveness took my imagination wandering lonely halls. My dreams disordered; my poetry disjointed.
Our most recent opportunity to keep heart has been with our baby and his illness. It has broken us down and uncovered root-level fears, but this time, though, I’m able to look back, even in all my falling apart, and I’m able to see how Jesus has built me up. I smile as I type it: I feel maturity, these 15 years I’ve believed. This time I’m broken, and I find communion in it. This time I do not lose heart.
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. ~2 Corinthians 4:16-18 ESV
There’s a renewal that happens under our noses, wakes with us in the morning. It slowly smooths at the clay, wet vessels in a tender hand. It’s a promise. There’s a glory here that transcends the divorce and veneer, the fake and the varicose vein.
I am broken, and I’m broken with Jesus, not without Him. It’s a promise, to be inwardly renewed day by day.