Today is my godson’s birthday. My wonderful, crazy, rambunctious, talented, and often obnoxious godson. He’s pretty special and I love him to pieces. I don’t worry much or imagine tragic scenarios very often, but any time the thought crosses my mind of anything happening to him (or anyone else I care deeply for) a gut-wrenching dread wells up within me.
I hope with all my heart that nothing terrible ever happens to my loved ones, and I pray protection over them constantly. Don’t we all? I know countless people who have had one or both of their parents pass away suddenly, people whose spouses were suddenly diagnosed with cancer and were gone before the shock wore off, people who have been in horrible car wrecks that completely changed their lives, people whose children died suddenly, leaving them in unspeakable grief.
Suffering is a very real part of life. It’s painful. It’s hard. It can break you. As Christians, people who are supposed to be “children of the light,” how are we possibly supposed to respond to this kind of darkness? Sure, it’s easy to stay in our heads, to try to be pious, saying that suffering can help us become holy, that it is our share in the Lord’s Passion, even that it can teach us to let go of our own wills and die to ourselves.
All these things can be great lessons, but honestly, if you are in the midst of tragedy, sometimes it’s all you can do to just keep drawing breath, your heart weighs so heavy. I’m not saying to despair, to give up all hope that the Lord hears your cries, or even to forget all attempts to find the silver lining. Don’t despair, don’t give up hope, and definitely keep trying to find the good, always! But when you are on your knees, begging the Lord for mercy and there seems to be no answer, no end to the pain, no matter what you do, then what?
If you feel abandoned by the Lord, like he’s not listening, like he is punishing you, like he doesn’t care about you or your life enough to intervene in whatever situation you are dealing with, cling to the knowledge that those things are not true. The Lord has not abandoned you, he is listening, he is not punishing you, and he cares about you and your life more than you could ever imagine. And he suffers with you! Listen to his words in scripture and hear him speaking them to you, speaking them over your life:
Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. See, upon the palms of my hands I have written your name. I have loved you with an everlasting love! Even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. Though the mountains fall away and the hills be shaken, my love shall never fall away from you. I will be a father to you, and you shall be my sons and daughters. Fear not, for I am with you. For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, plans for your welfare and not for woe, to give you a future of hope. When you call me, and come and pray to me, I will listen to you. When you search for me, you will find me. When you seek me with all your heart, you will find me with you.[1]
A while back, I shared a letter from Mother Teresa where she talked about suffering.[2] She said that when we suffer we are coming close enough to Jesus on the Cross that he is able to kiss us. In other words, the times we are in the most terrible anguish, feeling the most alone, and where taking the next breath seems impossible, those are the moments we are closest to Christ. And those are the moments when He is closest to us.
Even when we are too weak to ascend the Cross, he raises us up and embraces us. He comes close to us. If we can stop fighting our suffering, become still, and allow him to hold us in that embrace, that is when we can hear him say, “Do not be afraid, I am with you. I will never abandon you. I am with you.”[3]
There is some pain that only time and grace can heal. And that’s ok. One of my favorite songs speaks powerfully of the response we should strive for in the face of suffering, and the desire of Christ to come close to us in our struggle:
Lay down our plans, lay down the sure-fire fix.
Grief’s gonna stay awhile, there is no cure for this.
We watch for return, we speak what we’ve heard,
We sit together, in the burn.
Can I hold you while the flames grow higher,
Shall I brave the heat and come close with you now?
Can I come close now?[4]
Jesus wants to sit with us in the burn. He has already braved the heat, and he longs to come close to us. This week, if you are struggling with some sort of suffering, ask the Lord for the grace to allow him to come close to you. If you know someone who is going through something, don’t be afraid to reach out to them and offer to listen, give a hug, or assure them they are not alone.
When you pass through the waters I will be with you;
and through the rivers, you shall not be swept away;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flames shall not
consume you … because you are precious in my eyes and I love you.[5]
[1] Is. 43: 1-2, 4; Is 49: 16; Jer 31: 3; Mat. 10: 30; Is 49:15; Is. 54: 10; 2 Cor. 6: 18; Is.43: 5; Jer. 29:11-14
[2] To read the rest of Mother Teresa’s letter, see my original blog post.
[3] Is. 43: 5; Heb. 13:5;
[4] To listen to full song, click here.
[5] Jer. 1: 5
