A Cry in The Darkness

Last week the pain came out of nowhere. It was so blinding that it literally knocked me to my knees. Oh no. It’s going to be another long week. I made my way to the bedroom and slowly climbed atop my queen size mattress. I pulled the violet and green quilt around me and glared at the sun outside my window. Curled up in the fetal position, I begged my Savior for relief. If he had the power to walk on water and raise people from the dead, surely this was possible too. You could heal me. I know you can! The next several days went by in a blur. I cancelled singing opportunities and Bible Studies and reheated leftovers for dinner. When I was able to get out and actually be productive, only those who knew me well could tell something was wrong. A feeble smile confirmed their suspicions. “I’ll be ok. At least I can walk today!”

                              

I have had four surgeries in as many years. I wish I could say that my relationship with God has improved during the recovery periods. I wish I could tell you that I took those times of healing and poured out my soul to the God who understands pain and suffering better than anyone. I wish I could say that I grow closer to the Lord with each new round of surgery and treatment. I wish I could but I would be lying.

The truth is that during these times I rarely speak to God at all. It’s not as if I resent him for my condition because I don’t. I don’t feel that he is responsible for anything bad that has happened to me. He is not the one to blame and I know this. I suppose if I were to give words to my feelings they would look something like this. “I know it’s not your fault and I know you didn’t do this. I know you’re good and want nothing but the best for me. I’m just angry because I’m so helpless. To be honest, I don’t feel like talking to you or anyone else right now.” Of course, after a significant amount of time has passed I quietly crawl back into his arms and allow him to hold me the way he should have done from the very beginning.  

Although the fifth surgery has not yet made it on the calendar, I was able to speak to God during my latest pain flare-up. Here’s what we talked about…

And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, ‘My God, My God why have you forsaken me?’ Matthew 27:46

Wow! In your grief, pain, and darkness you still cried out to God. You felt utterly abandoned and broken, wounded beyond words. Yet you still prayed. Here I am in my humanness and weakness and actually have the audacity to avoid you in my own despair. I am not bleeding or alone and I have certainly not been forsaken…

He died a criminal’s death and still found the strength to pray to his Father. If the King of Kings in all his agony can reach beyond himself and call out to God, I can too.