When sin entered into the world, it touched… or better, fractured everything. Things that were once whole became broken, things that were infinite became finite, beauty become dulled and bodies that were designed in the image and likeness of God (Genesis 1:27) became subject to frailty. We not only can look around and see this in the world around us – disease, brokenness, dullness, etc., but we even can feel this in the very core of our being. And something tells us, “This is not how it was meant to be.” There is a longing for something more – a longing for restoration.
Restoration is one of the most amazing promises of the Christian faith. We claim and long for the day when God makes good on His promise to bring restoration to this world He created.
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared. And the sea was also gone. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!”
– Revelation 21:1-5
Promises like that in Scripture have allowed us to frame out better what is happening to Cole. We don’t doubt for an instant that he has been created in God’s image and likeness, but yet we also know that he (and his body) are subject to the effects of sin and birth into a fallen world. This creates a longing for restoration for his body. Modern medicine has given their best efforts toward this, but ultimately we know that even if totally healed from Perthes disease, his body remains broken.
There are days where I sit and watch him struggle to move in his cast and just wish that I could have traded places with him. It’s hard to watch your little guy struggle, especially not fully understanding the ‘whats’ and ‘whys’ of what he is going through. We have tried to do our best to teach him what I’m writing about today, but I’m not sure how much his 5-year old mind grasps. But even in those difficult moments watching him confined in his cast, or retelling his story with one of our visitors, we are sharing a story of hope. While there is most certainly brokenness to his body, there is the longing and promise of restoration.
We are three weeks today post-surgery. In some ways, it really has moved by quickly. Other times, we feel just how long the days, and especially the nights are. We don’t know when the cast will come off yet (but we have our next X-ray at the end of next week). We don’t know how his hip will heal once the disease runs its course. We don’t know how he will respond to rehab. We don’t know how he will walk or run. We don’t know the long term prognosis either.
In all the questions and uncertainty about what we don’t know, we always go back to the anchor of what we do know. His body will ultimately be restored. No matter to what degree it remains broken here on this earth, His Heavenly Father has promised to heal his body forever. We feel the weight and the promise of 1 Peter 5:10, “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”
So our journey marches on. Each day brings new challenges, but we face each day with a renewed hope. We are continually humbled and grateful to each of you who are walking alongside (and most importantly, praying alongside) us on this journey. And while we feel the longing… we long with hope… in the promised coming restoration.