Sometimes life just hurts. Much as we long for simple, joyous days, pain sneaks in. Our hearts ache over past wounds. Present sorrows consume us. Where is the miracle cure—the one that erases all the anguish?
No matter how desperately we want to heal, we don’t know how. The search is on for a simple, effortless solution. Maybe we could scoop all the pain out of our hearts, like hollowing out a pumpkin. Or perhaps we can let the hurt drain from our souls down a cosmic sink, never to be felt again.
In our quest for wholeness, we ultimately find ourselves in partnership with God. He alone is the great physician who restores our health. Yet if we don’t participate, his hands are tied. He longs to stitch up the broken and torn pieces of our lives, but he won’t if we keep squirming around on his operating table.
If we want to heal, we have to accept the cure. It may mean saying goodbye to old ways that now only hurt us. It may mean turning to walk in a new direction. It may mean humbly accepting help from others. When God holds out the spoon, it’s time to swallow the medicine.