Sara Hagerty writes about a question her adopted daughter asked her one recent afternoon:
I had just wrapped myself around her little frame, settling her in for her afternoon rest, when she pulled her head back and asked, almost wistfully, “Mommy, is Jesus beautiful?”
“Is Jesus beautiful?” I asked, repeating the question for my own benefit.
“Oh, Eden. Yes. Jesus is so beautiful. Sometimes, when you look into His eyes, in your mind, you feel like you could look for hours. He’s so safe and so full of life and so loving. God made Jesus’ beauty to be almost overwhelming.”
“Ask Him for yourself,” I said. “Ask God to show you what Jesus looks like. I’ll bet you’ll see His beauty.”
Oh this child, with an orphaned past that could leave her skeptical of God’s beauty, asking her mama this question without awareness of the years ahead of her when she’d have to face her life-grief.
She stared up at me with eyes that were hungry. I’d seen this hunger in her before.
The answer to her question might be the very thing that carries her through her own life’s pain.
It might be her entry into a life of finding Him as the Healer of her once-broken, once-bitter story.
It was – it is – mine.
I’m not sure I’d have ever asked to see His beauty if my life didn’t break.
Pain is an opportunity. An invitation.
It can allure us out of the sterile way we so often approach Him and away from our false view of a plastic God.
Pain invites us to see. Him.
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