Where Else Can We Go?

HAPPY NOVEMBER!!!!!

Y'all, I could not be more excited for November because that means the beginning of the Christmas season for me and my family. We've been cranking up the Christmas music, dreamily planning when we're going to get our tree, and this morning there was even a little dusting of snow on the ground. (Yes, I know many of you will be horrified, but listen: Thanksgiving is a day, not a season, and we love it just as much. We just love starting to celebrate Christmas a teeny bit early. ;)

November brings up a lot of milestones for me this year.

Eight years ago, at the end of October, my brother was diagnosed with epilepsy. Since then, it's been a long road of in and out of hospitals, never fully making it six months without a seizure, multiple different medications, and always, always praying for a miracle.

November is national epilepsy month, and that's part of why I chose this topic for my blog post today. Because of the Lord's grace, it is my greatest joy to be celebrating a year and a half completely seizure free for my wonderful brother.

But even that beautiful grace doesn't erase the years of traumatic memories.

Last month, I dealt with another equally traumatic situation that a dear friend of mine went through.

And in both situations, there were multiple times when all I could do was raise my tear-stained face and ask, "Why God?"

I really came to relate to David in the Psalms. Poor guy.

By nature, I am not someone who spends time on her knees. When something is happening, I prefer to pray as I walk at a breakneck speed through the kitchen, spouting gibberish non-stop at God (good thing the Holy Spirit can translate). But sometimes, I felt the pressing weight of all the pain, all the brokenness, and it was all I could do to keep moving forward. I wanted to fall down and press my face into the carpet and sob.

Deep down, I knew that God hadn't abandoned me. But how could He allow such a terrible thing to happen to those I love the most? Where was He in the midst of all this chaos?

I spent a lot of time in the Psalms, reading David's laments over and over again. I felt like his words could be mine. My heart echoed the same cry, "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" (Psalm 22:1).

But eventually, as I studied and read through Psalm 22 (which is actually a messianic psalm- it's unclear whether David wrote it to be purely poetic or whether his own life mirrored aspects of the psalm which later mirrored aspects of the Crucifixion), a pattern began to emerge. David didn't waste words crying out to the Lord. He mourned and poured out his grief over and over again, begging God to rescue Him, asking why the rescue wasn't immediate, and laying his despair at the feet of Jesus.

I want to pause here before I finish and get to my actual point with bringing this up (scatter-brained, I know!) and point out that David poured out all of his human failings and questions and doubts to the Lord.

And God, who knew exactly how the story would end, and knew exactly how He would save David, listened closely, and held His precious child close.

The God who spoke the planets into being with the might of His power leans close and gently wraps even the weakest of His children in His arms. "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin." (Hebrews 4:15)

He sees our pain and yet He loves us anyway. When we dump it all on Him, messily bringing even the most arrogant and absurd arguments to Him, He doesn't get impatient with us. Instead, He cherishes our words and listens patiently, waiting for the right time to step in and free us from our despair.

In fact, He wants us to bring it all to Him, no matter how messy or flawed it is. We all become children before the throne, and we can't handle our grief on our own. He takes it and untangles it for us, even when our words are harsh and sharp like David's in Psalm 22.

Okay. Now we can finish my actual point.

David wrote 21 verses about his pain and suffering and pleading with God to step in and intervene. But ultimately, he brought his mind back to reality and praised God for all of His mighty and wonderous attributes. And when God rescued him, he praised the Lord for that also, writing one of the most joyous and beautiful proclamations of God's power in the Old Testament.

Your feelings aren't what matters at the end of the day.

God sees your pain. He sees your grief. He longs to hold you close and whisper His love to you over and over.

But when we become so focused on ourselves and what we want out of the situation, we miss the beauty of the relationship between us and God.

God loves to give us gifts. He weeps over our sorrow. But He is not a genie or a vending machine. Sometimes, He may choose to leave you in a situation for your good and His glory.

And that's why we have to keep ourselves focused on reality and repeating what we know to be true.

Unlike our situations, God doesn't change. We have to remind ourselves of that, even when it's hard, and repeat those simple little things that can be such a lifeline in those dark moments.

He loves me. He is good. He is faithful. He has a purpose.

This year in church, we've been studying through the book of John. We just finished up chapter 6, and the Bread of Life discourse (which, seriously-- go read!! I learned so, so very much, and felt myself being spiritually stretched and discipled through the entire time. It's a tough chapter but so worth it ;), and this sunday, one of the final verses stuck out to me.

"Simon Peter answered, 'Lord, to whom will we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God." (John 6:68-69)

For context, Jesus has just finished up explaining that He is the Bread of Life, and that He is the one who provides eternal life. In response, many of those following Him turned back. He turned to the Twelve and asked them if they wanted to turn back as well, and Peter responded with what has become one of my all-time favorite verses.

It would have been such a low point for the apostles. They had watched Jesus feed the five thousand, turn water to wine, and begin what they thought would be the glorious start to His earthly reign. And yet now, He was losing followers, and His popularity was dropping fast.

But Peter answers with what I want my cry to be any time I feel myself entering into despair: To whom else will I go? For YOU have eternal life! (Obviously paraphrased).

Even in the midst of the pain, and the midst of the grief, where else can we go? No where else but to the one who is the Author of our Salvation and loves us in the midst of our weakness.

Take heart, dear reader. The darkness cannot last forever, and our King has already overcome the world.

Stay undistracted, and keep an open heart. ♥

Love,

~Mira