Truth on tear-stained pages

Above the clouds, light never stops shining. A.V.

 

While this week has held so many wonderful, festive things, it has also held the hard eucharisteo. Moments of "hard to be thankful", "hard to find grace" and "hard to rejoice." The Lord calls us to rejoice always (1 Thes. 5:16)...and yet, when the skies grow dark, the heart grows weary and the soul is wretched in pain and lack of understanding, how do we rejoice? Without going into detail, I have been mourning with close friends the great significant loss of new life. These lives have been long prayed for and anticipated and yet God has purpose in calling them Home.

God knew these moments would come. 

In continuing to list my 1000 gifts and reading through Ann Voskamp's book of the same title, I have been continually reconnected with the precious little moments that God places in my everyday living. Even this morning, as the wind howls through the mountain crevice, I am reminded that while dark days come, there is life to be lived, love to be shared and gifts to be counted.

I've realized that I will rarely have the right words to comfort the mourning heart who, like most of us, cannot find God's purpose in the pain...at least not in the midst of it. We cannot understand how a God of such goodness, love and mercy can allow such a void to enter into a person's life. And yet, God is good. His love is unmatched and unconditional. His mercy floods our lives.

It is hard to stomach the reality that we may never know God's purpose for our loss or painful circumstances on this side of Heaven. It is hard to believe that all things really do work together for good (Rom. 8:28). So when loss comes...when the sting won't subside...when the memories pound in our skulls, how do rejoice? How do we not fall into the dark, deep pit that the world says it is okay to wallow in instead of raising our faces to the One who loves us? In times like this, we so quickly forget His sovereignty.

This week has led me into some familiar scripture and my reading has brought some forgotten truths to the forefront.

"Only the Word is the answer to rightly reading the world, because The Word has nail-scarred hands that cup our face close, wipe away the tears running down, has eyes to look deep into our brimming ache, and whisper, 'I know, I know.' The passion on the page is a Person, and the lens I wear of the Word is not abstract idea but the eyes of the God-Man who came and knows the pain."
(One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp, p. 87)

 

 

Only through this lens, the mindset that comes from remaining in scripture and diligent in prayer, can we see the light above the darkness. Only through our belief in God, the One greater than ourselves, do we have the hope and peace that surpasses all understanding. So while I search for words that comfort, pray for mending, comfort and restful sleep, I cling to His promises. While our heads and hearts may not always be in sync, I know what feels like the end is far from the truth. And while these are not my battles directly, my heart shudders at the thought that at any moment, these sorrows could be mine in an instant. So for now, I will pray. Since words have yet to come, I will pray. Since sleep is restless, I will pray. Since my friends will face these memories for years to come, I will pray.

 

I. Will. Pray.

 

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present  your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
Philippians 4:4-7