What It Means (VI/XII)

In my first post, I mention that singlehood has brought me the closest to God and yet challenged my knowing Him as my Father and Lover of my soul. There are many times in my life I've wanted to ask the question "Why?" Why not now? Why not this one? Why am I the only one who's missing out?

It's time to get real honest again here. In the wake of the tears accompanying those questions, I found something. Or rather SomeOne. I never know when the moment will hit. Sometimes I'll feel it coming on for a few days. Other times it hits me faster than you can say "I do." It could be a silly love song. It could be that romantic comedy I've seen a million times. It could be the couple I see a few feet in front of me, walking hand in hand. It could be that decision of where to take my car to get it fixed. Do I move here or there? It could be the moment I crawl in bed, weary from a long day, with no one to debrief, no on helping to warm up the sheets. And in these moments "[w]e want the Bible to tell us that God loves us so dearly he cannot bear to see us suffer; we want him to stand between us and adversity. When we're in trouble, we want to know he's on his way at warp speed - a divine paramedic laden with soothing balm for our aching souls and the healing power to fix what's wrong...It's quite a shock to discover God is here already..." (1)

Nicholas Wolterstorff, after the death of his son wrote, "I am at an impasse, and you, O God, have brought me here...From my earliest days, I believed in you. I shared in the life of your people; in their prayers, in their work, in their songs...For me your yoke was easy. On me your presence smiled. Noon has darkened...And where are you in this darkness?...Or is it not your absence in which I dwell but your elusive troubling presence?" (2)

James (again from The Gospel of Ruth) elaborates on the unique opportunity in suffering. She says, "Suffering is a sacred meeting place between God and his child, where faith is fighting to survive and God's goodness comes into question. Throughout biblical history, God used infertility to pull his distressed daughters aside and engage them at a deeper level. Through suffering, God led them on a descent into darkness, doubt, and despair - foreboding, mysterious places we would never go by choice, but where God inevitably leads us. In the darkness we strain our eyes, searching for signs of him. We listen intently for the slightest movement that will tell us he is near. The barren women tell us he is here - in this dark place, in the middle of the mess, and in the depths of our despair. This is where childless women discovered things about God they would not have seen 'dry-eyed' and where they came to acknowledge a staggering level of dependence on him that was informed by their barrenness. Perhaps the biggest (and most unexpected) gift these barren women give us is a glimpse in their mirror to see our own faces reflected back. Their barrenness is not just a connecting point with other women who happen to be infertile too. At a fundamental level, their barrenness relates to all of us." (3)

It's in those moments, the moments of pain, suffering, or sadness, sometimes lying in fetal position in my bed, crying out to my God, that I have come to know Him in the most intimate of ways. I have literally felt His arms around me. I have heard his Words, speaking truth into my soul. No one else can experience this for me. It's not something someone else could go through and teach me or tell me about. It has to be my own. This is personal, and our God is relational. That means He and I are connected, in a relationship unique to any other, by His amazing grace through the death of His Son. No one can make it exist or nurture it for me. It is His and mine. And so these moments, painful as they are, reveal more of God to me. They bring me to Him and beckon me to know Him in deeper ways.

"The isolating nature of her sufferings meant a woman could no longer lean on someone else's theology." (4)

So press in. Learn more about Him.

Proverbs 2:1-8, NIV

My son, if you accept my words and store up my commands within you, turning your ear to wisdom and applying your heart to understanding, and if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding, and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding. He holds victory in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just, and protects the way of his faithful ones. 


Proverbs 3:13-18, NIV

Blessed is the man who finds wisdom, the man who gains understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold. She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her. Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are pleasant ways, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to those who embrace her; those who lay hold of her will be blessed. 

He created you, gave you a magnificent identity, and has plans - unique and perfect plans - for you. He's not going to just remove the hurt, but walk with you through it. Allow God to reveal Himself to you. Trust me, I know from experience that He will. It will make you smile, often through the tears. Sometimes you might laugh at the surprise of how well He knows you. (Read about it in Psalm 139.) He will send you love messages no one else could have ever created. Messages specific to you. He'll show you things no friend, book, song, or sermon could tell you. That kind of knowledge is priceless.

Then, in future moments you will have your own knowledge of Him to lean on.

And He will never let you down.


~Musical selections that have met me in this stage of the journey:
     Blessings - Laura Story
     When The Tears Fall - Tim Hughes


1. Carolyn Custis James, The Gospel of Ruth (Grand Rapids; Zondervan, 2008), p. 83. 
2. Ibid, 83-83.
3. Ibid, 85.
4. Ibid, 82.