“No Dear God, not again.”
The cry of your heart pounds through your chest as the misery of another day arrives, as the burden of yet another trial pursues your soul. You cry, but the tears only burn your skin. You don’t feel His hand wiping them away and catching them in His bottle. Screaming with anger is the only way you talk to God anymore.
Even the most tragic of plays have an intermission, but your life doesn’t seem to. First, abandonment and then a family death. Then your parents separated. Then your heart was broken. Then a loved one betrayed you. Then your hero left before you had time to blink.
So goes your life story.
You’ve resigned all hope. It’s just a fairy tale now. The masks go on, you fake your strength. Maybe you find yourself tearing others down or abusing relationships because your heart turned to stone. Your grieving tears turned into anger, then transformed into confusion and fear, until you stopped feeling anything at all.
What were once passionate pleas for help at the throne of God became embittered, trustless prayers – soon ceasing altogether.
But then something changes. For an instant, you’re okay. You fell asleep as you dreamed about what your life will be like one day. You drifted off into a world that is of your heart’s making. The one with your Golden Retriever puppy named London, who goes on runs with you in the vineyards of California. The life where you fall asleep re-reading a Charles Dickens novel as London lays on your feet. You dream of that life, the future you desire.
Even though you only got two hours of restless sleep before a never ending day, you’re okay. While eating the cold Chinese food that’s been in the fridge for three days and reading a Steinbeck novel, you realize that this moment is good.You realize that this moment whisks away the pain, frustration, confusion, and the wandering that evades every other part of your day. For some reason, even as the Chinese food sits like a rock at the bottom of your stomach, you find a moment of peace.
Maybe that’s what hope is. Maybe that’s the hope that God desires to give us – glimmers of an incomprehensible peace. Maybe you’re expecting God to do big miraculous things that snatches you from the monotony of your intense trials, when all He really wants is for you to experience His presence in the little things.
Does that mean we’ll always feel strong? No. Does that mean we’ll always understand? No.
But will we eventually reach the day when we’re victorious and see that God has always been filling our emptiness? Yes.
Maybe God won’t perform plastic surgery on your life and make everything perfect – maybe He’ll just hold your hand while the wounds close.
Either way, He is where you are.