What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin so that grace may increase? 2 May it never be! How shall we who died to sin still live in it?3 Or do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus have been baptized into His death? 4 Therefore we have beenburied with Him through baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.
Romans 6: 1-4, NASB
I’m less than two hours away. Two hours away from a goodbye and a hello.
In all 28 years, there has only been one other year I have said goodbye as a sigh of relief swept through me. But this one isn’t the same. This one is bittersweet. How can something be such an oxymoron? How can I look back with so much dread and joy? So many of the memories bring back pain.
Pain that makes you choke back breaths of air.
Pain that makes you hope for the briefest second you can let go and give up.
And for the life of me I can’t decide if its the physical or the emotional pain that hurts more. Because the physical pain… Well, it is pain and it is searing and it is throbbing and it is ever reminding me that it is here and present and without antidote. But that emotional pain, that is the pain that tells me there is no hope-only soul wringing emptiness. and the idea that there is no antidote to hopelessness-now that is painful.
I’ve thought a lot in these past few days of pain and sickness. I’ve thought of how even if you aren’t the one suffering, sickness brings a pain unlike any other. There is a confusion that pulses through more veins than you thought one little body could have. There is this loss of control, this large awareness, just like standing on the shore of the ocean. We recognize that we are finite and lackluster. And these waves come over us, but in this situation, you can ‘t even swim your way out. Because sickness decides, or so it seems, if you will be able to swim or not. No matter how hard you flail your arms, sometimes you just can’t get to the surface.
And it seems that way, but we need not fear, because we are not being overcome by waves and waters but by baptism and blood. And there is washing over, but it is the washing of grace. We are not alone.
He is with me.
He is with you.
He is with us.
And as pain continues, and confusion rises, and opportunities to give in and sin and let go of truth abound, I remember that there is another option, for we have been buried with Him through baptism into death.
But we will not stay there, for our story is meant for more, so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.