And know I am God. (Psalm 46:10)
The stilling is first. Then the knowing.
From my journal…
It is tiresome trying to hold onto a promise that never happens…but hurts you, and this just hurts.
Last night I was reading Genesis 13-15, and God made a
monster promise to Abram. “Children numbering more than the stars.”
I cannot imagine how hard that was. He and Sarai wanted a
baby so badly. It must have been the most raw and painful part of his heart,
and God laid it wide open.
Then they waited.
I’m not sure how long went by before the second visit, but
surely he and Sarai thought of that baby every single day. Their heart ached
every single day. Every month when she wasn’t pregnant must have been a new
death. To see Hagar pregnant and to see her belly getting large with the baby
she could not give her husband…I cannot imagine the crushing pain Sarai felt.
To see women rejoicing with Hagar, to know another woman
could give her husband what she wanted to give him more than anything but
couldn’t, I cannot imagine how that attacked her mentally or shredded her
emotionally.
And the promise still didn’t come.
I understand to a point, maybe more than I realized before
now.
I was given two plainly stated promises years ago, before the collapse and during, and I am
still waiting.
I have watched friends live the promises I was given. I have
watched them be blessed and flourish, give birth, if you will, and rejoice.
And I am still waiting.
And I ache. Beyond words, I ache, and the only answer I have
is to do other things to keep me busy while I am waiting, and it is hurtful
when even those doors slam shut. It feels like I’m being told to sit here and just
hurt. Logically, I know God has a plan and each closed door is just a redirect
from something I would hate. Emotionally, though, it is torturous.
How did Sarah get through that? At least she had a husband
to tell her he loved her as she was. Of course, she would tell me at least I
have children to raise.
How does one make a heart not want something?
There are days I wish God had not made those promises. Maybe I wouldn’t wake up each day and wonder if it were finally Christmas. But obviously, at that moment, I needed the promise. At that moment, I needed hope.
And I know none of the Lord’s words ever return void. Maybe when everything was collapsing around me, I need a foundation that couldn’t collapse.
But what happens when what is meant to bring hope only
inflicts pain? What happens when the promise holds more pain than you can see
power? How does one make the pain stop?
I don’t know.
All I know is I’m called to be still. When I still my heart
and my mind, when I still the emotions running wild, and refuse to look at what
has happened or even what has that makes this whole promise so completely unlikely
at this point, when I still the chaos, I know.
He is God.
Does it make the pain go away? For me, no. But it keeps the
promise before me, and He keeps my hope alive.
May the God of hope
fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him,
so that you will be filled with hope through
the power of the Holy Spirit.
–Romans 15:13--
trying to be still RIGHT beside you friend
ReplyDeleteDihann, know what you believe about God first and the situation second. When we know what we believe about God, we can sit right next to Him, and He is filled with compassion, strength, and protective love. I'm right with you, dear, but more than that, HE is right with you.
DeleteOh Jerri... I feel your heart aching, and I don't know why these hard, hard things happen either. It seems almost cruel of God, to give such breathtaking promises, to promise the very thing that your heart already longs for, and then make you wait, and wait, and wait... and wait...
ReplyDeleteWhen I think of the people whose stories are told in the bible, and the people whose stories I see being lived out in front of me, the ones who scare and inspire me are the ones who somehow have this utter determination and faith in God and His promises, despite their circumstances giving them no hope of the promise eventuating. These are the ones whose lives are a spectacle and a wonder to me, to the people who hear about them, and - I believe - to the whole spiritual realm as well. Because it goes so much against the grain to be that way! Their raw faith is such a beautiful, scary thing to see. I've wondered these things about Abraham and Sarah and Joseph as well - how on earth did they hold onto their faith in those promises? It's just incredible. Watching you - through your blog - is a little like that as well. You are a warrior, and reading these posts is like having a warrior, mid-fight, run past me and stop, look me in the eyes, and then carry on with the fight. There's blood and sweat and noise, you've taken some big hits... but this is a fight to the death, and you're a long way from being beat. You are holding fast to what you have. Your testimony - including this bit - is powerful, Jerri. Never doubt that.
Donna
Donna,
DeleteI received this in my email the day of my last oral surgery, so it has taken me time to respond. I kept thinking I would find some great words of response, but even now, I am simply humbled. Just humbled. So let me just say I read this and printed two copies. I put one in my journal to stay and one in my Bible so I could pull it out and read it and be encouraged. What you wrote is what I pray to be--the warrior who is relentless in this battle, who may stumble but refuses to cry defeat, who holds fast. Oh, Donna, how I pray to hold fast. Thank you for these beautiful encouraging words. If the Lord brings me to your mind, will you, too, pray for me to hold fast? I appreciate you more than words can say.
Humbly,
me