Isaiah 53:3-5 KJV
[3] He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. [4] Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. [5] But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

Someone I love was bitten by ants. I am praying for this person while I search the internet for remedies. This painful, episodic grief leads me to ponder what happens each time Jesus miraculously heals someone.

Most of us would prefer to think his unstoppable divine power pours out over the sufferer, which is true…but not all.

He thoroughly and completely absorbs the pain, the grief, the horror of human afflictions in a way that is both unspeakable and necessary.

He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.

He is the Remedy.

Matthew 8:14-17 KJV
[14] And when Jesus was come into Peter’s house, he saw his wife’s mother laid, and sick of a fever. [15] And he touched her hand, and the fever left her: and she arose, and ministered unto them. [16] When the even was come, they brought unto him many that were possessed with devils: and he cast out the spirits with his word, and healed all that were sick: [17] That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias the prophet, saying, Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses.

Many years ago I self-published three small, obscure books. One was a memoir about loss, one was a poetry book for a wedding, and the third was this—

I have always loved the cover of this book. Fierce Angels is about loss and traveling through grief, but the children on the cover are so lovable.

My beautiful daughter has been counting down the days until Halloween, despite my deep trepidation about its origins and practice. She said she wanted to be an angel, so I bought wings and diaphanous capes, and an archangel costume.

She wore it to the river after the sun came out. She was so beautiful and shimmery and I suddenly realized that God had made my beautiful book cover real in her, a fierce angel.

What else can he do?

Raise the dead?

Set the captives free?

He is the miracle God.

Surely goodness and mercy

Will follow me

All the days of my life

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever

King David/Ps 23

I have long held the belief that it is very possible that Jesus was being quite literal when he told his listeners that we all had to “be converted” to be like little children to enter into his kingdom

Heaven is where we will “play until Someone tells us to stop”

And Someone never will

He delights in his little ones

So when Jesus addresses “our Father” who is in heaven

He is defining in both directions

A God who makes a place home

Home a place inhabited by love.

Bring your friends with you

Make heaven crowded.

My father was a helicopter pilot. There was no doubt how much he loved to fly. He was and remains a part of who I am today.

But he wasn’t that nurturing.

When I was given the gift of feeling the warm, amazing love God has for me (and all of us), it was the doorway into reverse-engineering paternal affections.

If I wanted a more affectionate and unconditional father, that must mean God was those things, possessed those attributes and that I could ask him for this kind of open-hearted love.

Ask and you will receive.

My life has been defined and anchored by his constant, unconditional, eternal, unchanging, matchless love!

Despite all my flaws, or maybe because of them? I still cling to my father in heaven.

He is the best—so worth the hang out time.

He is the resident King of Heaven defined and defining love itself.

And if we are blessed, defining who we are

And who we are becoming