Hang on to Your Brothers and Sisters and Look at Bugsby

Sarah. 

Oh, Sarah. 

Sarah is the type of girl who by her own amazingness makes you proud to also be a girl. She's incredibly intelligent, honest, quirky, weird, cute, organized, capable, and just downright inspiring. Sarah is in real life what I dream about being in my fantasy world.  Sarah pretty much kicks butt.

Growing up, her father was the mayor of their small town in Wisconsin, so his schedule varied from week to week as to how busy he was. Her mother was a doctor who pretty much had the same type of scheduling. Sometimes it was busy, sometimes it wasn't. 

Because of this, her parents got to spend a considerable amount of time with she and her two siblings. They were a very connected family. One of her prize possessions was a little bear her parents bought for her. She named him "Bugsby". When they gave it to her they said, "Whenever you see Bugsby remember how much we love you and that we always will."

Well, one winter her parents had to go away for a few days and she and her siblings stayed with some friends in town. Sarah missed her parents terribly, but wanted to put on a brave face for her siblings, so she didn't let on to her suffering. When her parents called to check in on them, she got on the phone, had a pleasant conversation with both of them (trying to be very brave), and then, at the very end, choking back her tears, she finally said, "I miss you, Mommy."

Her mother became emotional at the sound of her little girl revealing her true feelings. She composed herself, thought for a moment and then said, "Put down the phone and go get Bugsby." Sarah did as she was told. She came back, Bugsby in tow and picked up the phone again. 

"Okay, I have him." she said.

"Okay. Do you remember what Daddy and I said when we gave Bugsby to you?"

"Yes."

"We told you to look at Bugsby and remember how much we love you and that we will always love you. Now, Daddy and I are gone for a little bit, but we're coming back. And until we do I want you to hang on to your brothers and sisters and look at Bugsby, okay?"

"Okay."

"Alright, baby. Momma loves you."

"I love you, too, Momma." 

It's a precious story, but I have to admit I think there is so much more going on there than a simple parent/child anecdote. 

There is a cry deep, deep within the soul of a person. A cry that cannot be explained, written about, blogged about, or even prayed away. It's a cry for comfort. It's a cry for mercy. It's a cry for justice; a cry yearning for the only person who can do something about it to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. It's a cry for protection. It's a cry of desperation. It's really the most honest cry I can think of because it admits that there's nothing we can do to save ourselves, protect ourselves, or provide for ourselves. It's simply a cry of "please."

You know what I'm talking about because your soul has cried that way before, too. 

There are times in this life when we shall suffer. We will miss. We will long-for. We will ache for. We will regret. We will wonder. We will wonder, "why?" We will be angry. We will feel helpless. We will be helpless. We will never be the same again. 

You know what I'm talking about.

Honestly? This is the best I've got:

In these moments, I think Sarah's mom was on to something. I think she told her daughter exactly what Yahweh tells us, "Hang on to your brothers and sisters and look at Bugsby - look at Jesus. Look at the cross. Look at the empty tomb. Hang on. He's coming." 

Hang on. 

He's coming.