Tragic Joy

     Most moments in life are a mingling of good and bad, but some are more poignant than others. I was only four when my brother Roddy was born with cerebral palsy, but that was such a moment, joy--because a child was brought into the world, tragic--because he would face a lifelong struggle. It was similar when my nephew Zane was born with spina bifida. Both of them have exceeded medical expectations, but they will always struggle to do things most of us take for granted.
     Last year we experienced tragic joy with our own son, joy--because he had survived rolling his pickup, tragic--because he was driving drunk at the time. The downward spirals of addiction are tragic, but having them exposed before worse tragedies happen is a good thing. Last Wednesday our son came to the door drunk and desperate. A year after his accident, he was finally ready to go to inpatient rehab. Tragic--that his life had come to this, joy--that he came to this understanding. It is our prayer that he, too, will exceed expectations, though addictions are a lifelong struggle.
     The ultimate tragic joy will always be the crucifixion--the ugliness of sin that brought it about, the beauty of Christ's redemption. The depth of depravity. The height of humility. The physical pain. The spiritual gain. The cry of despair, "Why have you forsaken me?" The shout of victory, "It is finished!"Our access to heaven is through the broken body of Christ. That is where the tragic joys of this earth give way to the eternal joys of heaven, and the mingling is only of man with God.