Call me a natural born cynic, but often finding God in one’s day is no easy task. This is how I felt last night as I sat down to write on what is becoming “blog night”. Truthfully, I’d almost forgotten that I was planning to write, and when I did remember, it was with a heavy heart. I didn’t want to write and answer the question of the blog! The week has been busy, but it was a good busy. It’s just that the headache battle has been raging this week, and that has got to be the toughest time to see God, especially when life continues full to the gills with activities. Meds, physio, heat and cold packs are all brought out as weapons in the battle but just plain survival seems to become the name of the game, never mind seeing God. I started noticing a brittle cynicism creeping in around the edges. I notice it when I start to see the worst in students and friends, or that angry impatience while waiting in traffic. I started to write a draft last night. It was all “true” but it didn’t feel like it was coming from the heart, and I gave up. The dramatist in me wondered if I’d ever be able to write another blogpost again. I said a prayer which felt like it bounced right back down on me off the ceiling, and went to sleep.
Went to sleep until 2:30 in the morning that is, when the headache woke me up. This one wouldn’t let me sleep, and I found myself on the couch melting into a puddle of frustrated tears. “God, where are you in this? You gotta show me something here, cause I can’t see You on my own.” After some meds (always taken reluctantly) kicked in, sleep began to come, but it was a “half-awake” kind of sleep. If you see me today, I may appear zombie like!
As I lay there, a snippet of a song came to me, and I’ll tell you, it left no doubt in my heart that God met me in this dark place. They are two verses from the book of Lamentations in the Old Testament:
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning, new every morning. Great is your faithfulness Oh Lord. Great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23
It wasn’t like I was trying to convince myself of this truth and be “preachy” to myself. It’s a mystery to me how this happens, but the verses simply were, and are, true. They were like a medicine or like a balm that washed over my heart and gave me solace. I understood that even in these places of struggle (and
I know many of you reading have it harder than I do), God was with me, and that love and mercy were bigger than this. I felt very grateful, and I feel vulnerable to say it, but I felt like a kid being comforted by a really great parent, remembering that all was going to be ok.
It’s dark when you’re alone at 4 a.m., but I found out that a Hand can extend to me there anyways, inviting me to trust, proof of light beyond my understanding.