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A Father's Hurt...

I broke my arm when I was in 6th grade. 

We were in gym class, playing soccer, when Robert Garduno kicked the soccer ball straight into my arm.  My skeletal structure was roughly the same consistency as McDonald's french fries, so naturally, it snapped like a twig.  I remember the pain rocketing through my arm like a lightning bolt.  I remember crying like a 6-year-old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert.  I remember Coach Rogers looking at me like I was wearing a tutu and tiara...man, I hated that guy.  I remember my nervous mother rushing me to see Dr. Whatshisname.  I remember discovering the magic that is Vicodin for the first time.  I remember the funk that emanates from the recesses of a cast...ok; I've shared too much.

Yesterday, my son Aidan and I were playing in the backyard at my sister-in-law's house on their rope swing.  

Before I continue, let me first describe this swing to you.  It is basically a plank of wood with a hole in the middle of it, through which runs a rope that attaches to a tree branch.  The ground under the swing slopes down dramatically, so what may start out as a 2 ft ride initially, graduates into a 10 ft drop at the swing's apex.  This formula equals much fun...but also much risk. Back to the story...

Aidan was showing me a few different ways to ride on the swing when he wanted to try to stand on it.  (Stay with me here...I know you already know where this is going.)  I showed him how, because I am a horrible father, and he wanted me to push him out while he stood up.  What could possibly go wrong right?

On the second pass, his feet slipped and he let go of the rope.  The swing's momentum carried his feet out and his upper body pitched forward from about 6 feet off the ground.  My boy hit the ground face-first and bounced horribly high.  

I ran over to him as fast as my legs would carry me. His face was covered in leaves and mud and grass. His teeth were covered in a muddy plaque.  His eyes were wide and swollen with tears.  He started to shout, "Daddy I need you!  Mr. Rick I need you!"  My heart was starting to move from panic to collapse at this point.  The whole process seemed to take place in slow motion, as these moments tend to.  This sucked...bad.

It was at this moment that Aidan started to shout that he could not feel his arm.  Funny, I remember how bad my arm hurt when I broke it, yet I felt a deeper more visceral pain for Aidan.  I scooped him up and carried him up the steps to the deck where I noticed a dent in his arm just above his wrist.  By this time, the whole family was in "go" mode trying to find a splint to secure his arm with so we could rush him to the ER.  All the while, Aidan is wailing away half out of pain, half out of shock.

We took him to the ER where we learned that his arm was broken, but not in the typical sort of way.  The doctor explained that Aidan experienced a slight compression fracture...similar to what happens when you crush a soda can. The bad news is that it was indeed broken.  It could have been much, much worse...thank God for small mercies.

As we stood, waiting for the X-RAY technician to finish, I had a thought that I could not shake.  I would, at that moment, give anything to trade places with my boy.  I am still new at this dad thing and this is really the first time I have ever felt such an intense pain on behalf of my kid.  Even though my blood does not run in his veins, he is my son and I was not prepared for the helpless, restless and overwhelming emotion that washed over me as I watched him broken and scared.   

I finally understood about the nature of a parent's pain.

There has always been something in my mind and my heart that has detached the love and grace of Jesus from me.  I guess it was nothing more than a fundamental inability to comprehend why God chose to suffer on my behalf...on all of our behalves.  Now I know.  

The pain of watching your kids hurt is far worse than any pain you may personally feel.  Given the chance, a good parent will always choose to spare their child over themselves.  

I think of how God must have felt through all of the misguided wanderings of His children through the ages.  How He must have agonized at the hurt and hatred and evil done throughout the days since creation.  I cannot comprehend the combined pain of watching billions of your own children lying helpless, broken and covered in mud...knowing that everyone who has ever lived has ultimate worth as our children do to us.  Perhaps the most wrenching reality being that God knows that all of this pain is unnecessary.  

I think of the agony God must have endured as man chose hurt over holiness. What restraint he must have exercised as creation fell further and further from perfection not to force a painless existence for us all.  First the law came to show us the way to avoid pain and hurt and evil in this life...yet, it became a catalyst for those very things.  Imagine God's breathless, nauseous frustration at it all...at the life that sin had robbed us of.  Some would say that a perfect God could never feel such things...but would that lack of emotional articulation be imperfect?  That's another blog I suppose.

Imagine at the very apex of time, God feeling the urge to trade places with His kids...all of them...at one time.  Then He actually does it through the life of Jesus.  This is unique in what those who follow Jesus believe.  Wrestle with the notion of taking on the pain of the world personally, emotionally, and completely.  Imagine feeling both the complete anguish of a parent, and the complete anguish of a broken child…at the very same time.  I don't know if there is theological treatise to justify what I am saying, but it rings true.  

When Aidan lay fallen on the ground, I wanted to intervene...I wanted to rewind the clock and change the outcome...I wanted to make everything as it was.  I wanted to fix the situation in such a way to spare him any measure of hurt and fear.  I could not.

Now imagine being able to do just that and finding the restraint to simply not do it.  That is what the Father did when the Son took the complete misery of all creation on himself.  Allowing the most intensely exquisite pain to permeate His Son and Himself to spare us any measure of fallen-ness.  I cannot comprehend the perfect love it must have taken to do nothing as that perfect hurt descended on the Godhead.  No easy way.  No quick fix.  Just love that dared to do what only our God would claim to do for us...suffer.

How great is God's love for us?  He would gladly, completely and wholly trade places with each and every person ever to spare us the pain that sin wrought on our lives.  It is the love of a perfect Father that longs for the perfection of the lives of His kids.  The God I choose to believe in is not a God that merely hopes for the best for His kids.  He is a God that put Himself in ultimate jeopardy to ensure that pain and suffering will one day pass away.  He is a God that loves beyond comprehension and has the scars to prove it.

RG

 

 

 

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