“Even darkness can’t hide from God." ~ Psalm
139:12
Annette would never forget the day
her 19-year-old brother was murdered. Once
he’d been a boy that bounced, giggled and danced; so generous with his smiles
and free with his hugs. But in that instant,
the fact that life would go on without him undid her completely.
She didn’t fully grieve her brother’s death until their
third child was born four years later. The
Doctor handed over her infant son with an almost-imperceptible sigh of concern. Two weeks later he confirmed his suspicion of
Down’s syndrome. For the next 6 months Annette
wrestled with God like never before.
One day she stood before a mirror trying to don her new favorite
sweater. After living in a perpetual state
of postpartum body changes, Annette finally summoned the courage to wear skinny
jeans and boots.
The sweater didn’t fit. Her husband Bradley had done the laundry and mistakenly
put it in the dryer on high heat. Annette came unglued - body on the ground,
fists slamming the carpet.
It wasn’t about the sweater. A minor irritation opened flood gates pouring
out what’d been simmering for months.
She shouted to the Lord in pain: “Isn’t it enough that Mason
has Down’s syndrome? Wasn’t Bradley’s alcoholism enough, or David’s
murder? I can’t take any more of this!”
While screaming like a 2-year-old hurling a temper tantrum,
the Lord whispered, “Am I enough?”
She stumbled into the study and grabbed her Bible searching the
Book of Psalms. They covered the entire
range of human emotions, and asked important questions about God, humanity, and
the purpose of life.
She randomly found Psalm 88 – one that gives us permission
to scream to God (not about God) in our pain. Prayers to God include cries of agony;
expressions of our true feelings. But
they’re never directed anywhere but to the Lord.
Poured out without restraint, our suffering will reach our Savior’s
heart. Left unspoken our suffering produces
bitterness and displeasure toward Him.
It’s been nine years since
David’s homicide. His case remains
unsolved; an ongoing source of unanswered prayer. There are days when she still prays in the
dark, with words like:
“You have the power to get me out of this, and yet you’re only making
it harder! Prove to me Your faithful
love.”
“You had the power to prevent this, and You didn’t. Help me to believe that you are righteous and
good, because it sure doesn’t feel like it right now.”
“You could give me what I’m asking for, but You’re withholding it. Show me Your wonders in the midst of my unmet
hopes.”
We have a Savior
who is real and holy and well acquainted with our grief. We can cling to Him when the darkness presses
in; for as long as we’re in it. The fact
that He’s always with … is more than enough.
Holy Father, You conquered the grave and will
return again. That’s our hope when
darkness closes in. One day our grief
will turn to glory and we will worship around Your throne in everlasting light.
Amen
