Beauty and Brokenness
February will never be sweet and cozy for the Vander Arks and it will never be taken for granted. The month of February is always a reminder of two opposing realities for us: the inseparable brokenness and stunning beauty of the world and of being human. February is a reminder of the fragility and preciousness of life. Especially this year.
As many of you know, I had a cardiac arrest thirteen years ago on February 15 and survived. Two weeks ago, Wes decided to join me in the February heart world when he went to the ER because he wasn’t feeling quite right. We were going on vacation to a place without good medical care and he wanted to make sure everything was okay. What we discovered was that he was in the middle of a heart attack. The 100% blockage, widow-maker kind of heart attack. Needless to say, we are jaw dropping grateful we got to the hospital in time for them to put a stent in. He will live but..
From our point of view, in the blink of an eye, Wes, like me, went from perfectly healthy to a whole new world of taking 7 pills a day, dealing with minor heart damage, cardiovascular disease, limiting his cardio, and wondering what this would mean for the rest of his life. There’s not much we can change in the way of lifestyle…we’ve always exercised, eaten well, drink little, and he’s never smoked.
This has rocked our world, but for now, the emotional reality is still sinking in and being sorted. For now, we are both humbled and grateful to be alive. For now we both have something to celebrate and remember in February besides the damn Hallmark Valentines’ Day. We are reminded, again, there are no guarantees in life and every day with each other and in this the world is a gift.
This month, I have been acutely aware of the pervasive world-wide, national, and local tragedies that are seemingly endless. In addition to this and our own near death experience, close friends are hurting and suffering the effects of brokenness in this world. Brokenness is everywhere and yet…
On my walk this morning I was stunned by the quiet, snow-laden beauty of my world. Everywhere I turned there were marshmallow layers of snow, gentle flakes still falling from the sky, and stillness. Soon, I was also noticing broken tree limbs, fallen trees, and torn up yards where the snow plow had missed the road. As I looked back and forth at the brokenness and beauty I noticed feeling a bit unsettled but also soothed and comforted in the deep places. This was reality, this was true and truth is always assuring even if it’s hard. Beauty and brokenness were coexisting.
None of us can escape the brokenness of our own hearts, bodies, and systems. To do so is to live in denial. If we’re always staring at the brokenness, then we can despair, get angry, depressed, or cynical. But if we are only paying attention to the beauty then we are in denial and it becomes difficult to trust and live freely or to have compassion. I need both the beauty and the brokenness to remind me to rest, grieve and lean into Jesus and the reality that I am not in charge. If we can stay in both or at least rock between and within the two, we can live with hope. Beauty and brokenness are absolutely inseparable and necessary.
My friends who are hurting are staying in the pain as well as acknowledging the goodness they are seeing. It is a hard path to stay on and they are being faithful to it and finding a strange kind of comfort in truth. I am in awe. Wes and I are trying to stay in this new reality of a “broken” heart and the kindness it has has brought in so many ways. Neighbors helping out, bringing food, prayer, a slower pace (for now) and a renewed appreciation of the fragility and beauty of this life.
My children’s books continue to invite and dwell in this reality: We have each other, life is fragile, life is beautiful, life is hard, and there is hope…always.