Psalm 56:8 “You number my wanderings; Put my tears into Your bottle; Are they not in Your book?”
There is this misconception (at least in the American Mindset) that Christians don’t suffer. The belief is that Christians, the instant they become a Christian are exempt from or somehow removed from the bad stuff that happens. The thought is that Christians have it all together. Like when Christ died for our sins and redeemed us to himself that it wiped away all heartache, hardships, and hassles from our lives. It did…but not this side of heaven.
You see the problem is that we still live in a fallen world. We still deal with fallen people. We still aren’t perfect. And we still have flesh on. Scriptures puts its this way, “we are in this world, but not of it.”
It is the “not of it” part that allows us to operate (or gives us power to operate, whether we chose to exercise this or not) outside of the walls of this world. What this means is when we come up against something, we have power to overcome. We have a friend to walk through it with us. We have a comforter to comfort us during the hard times. We have this special thing that allows us to know that it will be OK, even in the hardest of circumstances.
When I went through my most recent miscarriage, I was devastated. With all the infertility struggles we’ve had in the past, I always told God that if I got pregnant again, I don’t even want to know about it unless its going to last and end in a baby. I thought we’d come to an agreement. I thought we were on the same page. So when, at 43 I found out I was pregnant again, after 10 years of negative tests, I thought that it was our miracle baby. This one was going to be the one that tells the world of the goodness of God. This one was going to cure cancer! This one, after 10 years of nothing was surely it!!! We had even just come through a season of Blessings in regard to the possibility of expanding our family. We’ve become licensed to foster-to-adopt and our home was prepared for another one. We thought, how “like God” to allow this to happen! How great….until it wasn’t. I miscarried at 9 weeks pregnant. This one hit SO MUCH harder than the first time. We were devastated because not only was this little life inside me gone, but it seemed as if the hope of what we’d spent the last year preparing for was gone as well. Our world (for the moment) was shattered!
BUT GOD…
You see, God doesn’t leave us in despair. He doesn’t leave us in the pit. He sets us up on the rock. He redeems ALL THINGS. Through the years of life, I’ve gained enough knowledge and gotten to know God enough to know those things. But in the moment when everything came to a screeching halt, those things were hard to find. That’s why he collects our tears. He holds them so close, so that He can pour them over us, mixed in his love, compassion, and mercy like a healing salve.
So, Christian, hear me. It is OK to be hurt. It is OK to mourn. It is OK to cry. It is OK to struggle. We all ride the struggle bus from time to time. But what we have to understand is that we are not meant to stay there. We are not meant to drown in the deep of our sorrows. God, if we allow Him to, will pull us out.
During the moment when I realized I was having a miscarriage, John said to me, “Whatever you do, don’t walk away. Don’t loose your faith in God. He is still working.” If I was honest, I don’t remember him telling me that. It wasn’t until a few days later that he told me again. I don’t know that I was even considering walking away, actually. Maybe “taking a break” of sorts, but not walking away. The best thing I did for my faith and my family was get us to church that weekend. And with what little faith I still had, I stood in the back of the room during worship and sang to a God that I knew was good, even if it didn’t feel like it in that moment. And with tears streaming down my face through the whole service, I laid myself down (in a spiritual sense) before him and worshiped anyway. And in that moment, something happened in the Spirit that I can only describe as a building moment. Just as in John 11 when Jesus wept with Mary and Marth over the death of Lazarus, I know He wept with me too.
That day in church, that was about 9 months ago. I know the timing because my baby was to be due right about now. And while I don’t have a baby to hold, I do have a renewed strength and a renewed joy and a renewed hope that only God can give. And I think the one reason why I’m coming out of this season with hope…I didn’t let the hard times run me down. I didn’t let the lies chase me out. I didn’t let the heartache take over.
I worshipped anyway!
(A lot of what I’ve learned recently has been pouring out here. Read Writing in the “to” season for some insight on how I fought this battle and you an too.)
Beauty for Ashes 