The last few months have been hard. That word isn’t adequate. I have been slain. Things have been broken and torn that will never repair. Yet…
In this suffering I am reminded of how much this world is not my home. In this suffering my heart has known tremendous grief. In celebrating the ending of the life of someone so beloved by me, I grieved. In her life, she was always for me. She always loved me and advocated for me. In that, the pain of loss has been great, but yet, I could still celebrate her reception into the presence of her greatest Love.
That my mind can celebrate. That my heart can find relief in. The assurance of knowing that I will rejoice with her again is a balm for my soul.
There is one I can not reconcile. There is one who I feel is so lost to me. There is one I’m grieving while there is still life in their body. There is one wound I do not know what can mend.
To know you love someone so deeply who you may never see again, ever, is heavy. It is excruciating. It hurts without there ever being a promise of any kind of relief.
Everything hurts for what all has been ruined. All the lives. All the pain. All the suffering.
Yet God in the midst has reminded me that breath in lungs mean that the story isn’t over. It is not over. His heart is still for them. There is room at the cross for them. The mantle given to me has been prayer. I am praying so much I can not sleep.
Though I am tired and slain and my heart is ruined, I know that in this suffering God is good. He is merciful. He endured a scourging and a separation I will never know. The cross broke Him and showed that God’s heart is about justice. Justice is not circumstantial, and our ideas of what that means can not give way- no matter the situation. Our hearts are made to seek justice all while remembering grace. There is grace. If there was grace for my sin that killed Jesus, there is grace for anyone else.
That is what haunts me and make me pray, but I want my own anger that feels so justified. As I pray and God rips my heart apart over my disobedience, I am moved to love.
I can not help but love all those involved, but more than that, I love my God in this suffering. He suffered worse. He knows the grief in my heart because I truly believe it is in His heart too.
So today, where it all feels ruined, He is doing something with what we ruin. When there is only grief, He has a dawn assured to bring new mercies that can wash it all clean. In these hours, I will trust in the Lord to be everything all of us need- sanctifying, healer, and redeemer.
All is not lost, God is on the move.