It happened one evening while driving along the coastline late into the night that I, as I often do, pointed to the vast expanse of water and instructed my boys to "look at the ocean"! I want them to look at it as often as possible to both be grateful for the incredible place that God has allowed us to live in, and be reminded of how big our God really is. To see the beauty of what He merely spoke into existence and let the breathtaking views wash over whatever small anxieties we may be facing.
Except this time... this time it was the middle of the night and there was no telling the end of the ocean from the beginning of the sky. Everything was dark.
In that moment Jacob who is 6 and enjoys understanding all manners of life by questioning things until either he comprehends the answer... or I give up... astutely stated "I don't see it". To which I smiled and reassured him, "well it's there" (knowing that I may have just gotten myself into a pickle should he be in the mood to question further). To my surprise, that curious little almost-first grader only had one response. He simply asked, "are you sure?"
Those words have been banging around in my head this past month as many who are familiar with our family have watched as we walked through the most horrific thing we have yet to face with the motorcycle accident and then subsequent passing of my brother one week later who was 27 years old and full of life. Then, as if it hadn't been enough, a few days later enduring the loss of a close mentor and friend who meant the world to us. It is dark friends, everything is dark.
I started back at work this week and have found the truth of change remains - the world goes on, with or without you. It doesn't wait for you to pull it together - if you can pull it together. It doesn't wait for the pain to stop before piling on the "to-do's". It doesn't wait. The world marches ahead and we, the ones who have lost, are trudging behind with the weight of the world on our shoulders doing our best to catch up.
The only solace... the only comfort I have is this... "God is near to the brokenhearted."
There have been a few moments when I have felt like a child looking out of the window of my misery and wanted to shout at the heavens towards God, "Aren't you going to help? Aren't you going to prove yourself as good and kind and faithful? Are you even here?" Because it hurts. To the core of my being it hurts.
But from the middle of my pain I can say one thing - no matter how dark and grim it gets, God is like the ocean. Strong and steady. He is there when we can see Him and when we can't. He moves the shore at His pleasing and washes our sorrows away with the tide. One grain of sand at a time. Because He is still good and kind and faithful.
So to that small boy in the backseat looking out into the star filled sky, wondering if the ocean forgot where it laid... or the girl broken in a corner, mourning the loss of her only brother, wondering if God is near and the pain will ever cease... to your question I want to say this,
"I'm sure."
Don't give up now. Don't throw in the towel. The morning light will reveal the truth once more; the darkness won't last forever.
XOXO Sissy
Psalm 34:15-22 "The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their cry;
but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil, to blot out their name from the earth. The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all; he protects all his bones, not one of them will be broken. Evil will slay the wicked; the foes of the righteous will be condemned. The Lord will rescue his servants; no one who takes refuge in him will be condemned."