November 5, 2016. One year ago, I received an invitation to breakfast at Cracker Barrell – one of my favorite breakfast restaurants. I was excited. The excitement didn’t last long. It was over breakfast that I received the news that left me completely and utterly shattered. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I did nothing the rest of the day but sit on the couch and sob. I could barely pray… thankfully, uttering the name of Jesus was prayer enough.
In the days and weeks following, I tried to survive on being a good Christian. I worshiped, I prayed, I quoted Scripture to myself all day long. I knew all the promises of Scripture. I knew God loved me. I knew He wants what is best for me. I knew there was one set of footprints… but the grief was unbearable. For weeks I was grateful that my office had a door, for I had to close it many times when the tears wouldn’t respect the fact that I was at work. I had plenty of family and friends who loved me. However, they were unable to fully understand my pain and their well-intended words ran like water off a duck’s back.
My world became darker and darker until finally I swallowed my pride and went for professional counseling. The healing process was slow but sure. Gradually, light came back and pushed out the darkness. For months though, the smallest thing could bring a lump in my throat and tears out of nowhere.
Ironically, a year later, I find myself dealing with similar feelings. No, the circumstance is not the same, nor is it anywhere near as severe, but the hurt is similar and the pain just as real. Once again, it is something that no human can fully understand, unless they have been through it themselves. The good news is, although I am dealing with a similar type of pain, I am not the same person I was a year ago. I am wiser and perhaps a bit stronger.
Every Christian knows that God is the Potter and we are the clay. He is continually molding and shaping us to be more and more like Jesus. Sometimes, that process is gentle and we barely notice it. Sometimes, He must press a little harder and life gets uncomfortable. And sometimes, the only way the Potter can get the desired result is to break us and start over. I don’t believe that God causes or brings us pain. I do believe that pain is a tool in our Potter’s hands and sometimes we have to be completely shattered so that He can rebuild and restore us. The rebuilt and restored version is most often stronger and more beautiful.
I have learned so much from that dark time. I think the most valuable lesson I learned is now helping me to process this current difficult season. It may sound simple and obvious, but I have learned that is okay to grieve. It is okay to be sad, to be hurt, to cry, to feel lonely. It’s okay to feel like no one understands – because they don’t. Proverbs 14:10 says: “each heart knows its own bitterness and no one else can share its joy”. Even the most loving and caring individuals simply cannot understand the pain of our hearts; it’s not that they don’t want to, they are simply incapable.
I can hear someone saying “but God understands”. This leads me to the second thing I have learned. I have learned to not let the cliché’s hurt me. Oh they used to – and I had a comeback for each one.
“The Lord gives and Lord takes away” - Yes, but loss still hurts
“The Lord has something better for you” - Um, okay but I may not feel like its “better” until I
reach the Pearly Gates.
“You deserve_______ fill in the blank” - You know, it hurts to hear that I deserve something
that I do not have. If I deserved it, wouldn’t I have it?
“God loves you and is always with you” - No duh. When your kids were hurting, did their
knowledge that you loved them take their pain away?
“God works everything for our good” - Again, no duh. It doesn’t say all things ARE good.
And then there is my absolute favorite…..
“Jesus is all you need” - I cannot type my responses to this. But I have since
repented for them.
No honey. Jesus is not all you need. When you are physically hungry, knowledge of Jesus and His love for you and His continual presence with you does not take away the hunger pains – only food can do that. When you are physically cold, your body needs heat. The love of Jesus may warm your heart, but your body needs physical heat when it is cold.
Along the same lines, when you are lonely or grieving a loss, the love and presence of Jesus does not remove the pain. We understand this when a physical death has occurred – we would never tell a widow that God is enough for them. For some reason, when loss other than death occurs, we are quick to remind folks that God is always with them and will never leave them or forsake them. It’s true – but not helpful.
All these clichés, though true, do little but bring guilt on the one who is already suffering. It causes us to feel like our faith is weak, like we are not trusting God enough, like we don’t have the right to be sad because we are Christians and Christians should be joyful.
Thanks be to God, I have been delivered from the sting of these clichés. I realize they come from people who love me and try their best to help. I think one day I shall write a book: “Silly Stabs From Sweet Souls”.
Which leads me to the final thing I learned through being shattered. I have learned to have hope.
The pain that I had last year has passed. Yes, it passed like a kidney stone, but it passed. The pain I am in right now, will pass – probably like another kidney stone, but it will pass. We learned in Beth Moore’s study of the book of Daniel that sometimes the Lord delivers us from the fire and sometimes He delivers us THROUGH the fire. But we always pass through. As Christians, we can have joy while in sorrow. I am not talking about the kind of joy that acts happy when you’re crushed in pain. We can be joyful IN HOPE. Romans 12:12 tells us to be joyful in hope, patient in affliction and faithful in prayer.
My favorite book of the Bible, Ecclesiastes, tells us that there is a time and season for everything. I time to be born and a time to die, a time to laugh and time to mourn, etc. This is why we can be joyful in hope – because we know that our pain is only for a season. It will end. For those who have lost a loved one to death, that pain may never fully end until we join them in heaven – but it will end. I am reminded of the verse from Amazing Grace: “the Lord has promised good to me, His Word my hope secures”. If everything was good, we would not need His Word to secure our hope. But we can be secure in that hope – even in the midst of grief, loss, and pain. And when we are in the midst of grief, loss, and pain – it is okay to be sad. It is okay to cry. It is okay to feel pain and even to long for what we have lost.
Yes, God will rebuild. God will restore. God will redeem. He will make something beautiful from your shattered pieces. You’ll be stronger, wiser, more like Jesus. You will eventually be able to say “it was good for me that I was afflicted” because you will see the refining work of pain and you will be drawn closer to the Potter through the process. But the process hurts more than words can describe. It’s okay to grieve.
And folks, if you love someone who is grieving. Just be there. Don’t analyze their reaction to the situation. Don’t minimize what they are feeling because you don’t understand it or can’t relate to it. Don’t try to encourage them or cheer them up – you can’t. You may unintentionally hurt them in the process. Just be there. Call or text frequently. Let them know they are on your radar. And be joyful in hope along with them.
No comments:
Post a Comment