The Love to Lead a Nation

As Michelle Obama addressed the Democratic National Convention last night, I was struck by the idea of togetherness, of a partnership where a couple forges ahead in the world as a unified front. It was a beautiful picture of the importance of finding someone that you love and support and who does the same in return, someone that believes in your dreams and you in theirs, and someone who not only loves you but also really likes you, who is proud to be associated with you. Although all candidate wives are involved in campaigning and the race for the White House, something about the relationship of the Obamas is really striking. There is an overarching "we are in this together" aura that makes me hopeful of what an America with the Obamas at the helm could look like. I was so moved by Michelle's statement when speaking of her husband, "I believe he will make an extraordinary president". There was such a confidence and a pride, almost inviting the world to see into what she sees in him. The woman that knows him best believing that he will be extraordinary, putting her stamp of approval and blessing on the person that she knows to their depths. It was as if she said to our nation that they have no idea of the greatness that exists within the man she loves, urging them to give him the platform from which to celebrate the passion and purpose and resolve of the man that she believes will transform our nation.

I understand that kind of love. A love that sees one's partner as extraordinary, full of greatness and purpose and influence and passion. A love that believes that if all could see what you see in them, the world would be a better place. And a love that is willing to fight to make sure that the world will someday celebrate them the way that you do. I am honored to love an extraordinary man.

Healing

I was grouchy yesterday. It was a Sunday afternoon and I was grouchy. This is significant because it never happens...I love Sunday afternoons.

But rather than enjoying what may be one of the last summer Sundays, I was in a funk that it was nearly impossible to snap out of. I got caught up in worrying about something that I just need to let go of and it cast a dreary shadow on an otherwise beautiful day.

In retrospect, I probably should have taken a nap or gone to the park or called a friend. I eventually went for a run. By that point, much of the day was gone. But even if I had done all of those things, I would have only delayed the pain. I convinced myself that the only way for me to feel better was to have another person fix it or fix me or both.

Today I have been thinking about healing and what that really means. I think my tendency is to look into myself to make things better, get over it, rise about it, to find healing by persevering through the hurt but when I do all of these things to try to repair my own heart, I fall painfully short. It's like putting a band aid on a broken leg. And so today, I am compelled to take pain to the only One that can truly bring healing in the midst of my hurt. He knows where I am broken, where I feel pain and He can take me in His arms and bring me to a place where I am whole and complete. But I must go to Him. I must acknowledge the fact that I can't fix me. Apart from His grace, I will remain in pain and although I may mask it temporarily, it won't go away.

And so I take my pain to the One who, on the darkest of Sunday afternoons, did much more than just medicate the pain but instead restored our broken, hurting world and brought redemption and new life.