sometimes, fresh starts come when you least expect it.
last week, when i posed a question on twitter about hope vs. skepticism, a response came quickly from someone who rarely speaks with me. i asked how do you remedy the loss of hope.
he replied, “read your Bible & ask God to teach you to trust Him.”
tears came quickly – big, fat, bitter filled and disappointed. i slammed my phone down on my nightstand and buried myself underneath the covers. closing my eyes, my thoughts scattered…my heart cowered in the corner – still raw with the hurt from the day.
really, God? really? that’s all they have to say? i mean…you’ve been teaching me this whole “trust” thing for two years now. i get it. i know you’ll provide.
but what about right now? what about when i can’t stop the tears – when my heart won’t come out from hiding – when the darkness seems unbearable?
i know you hold me. i know joy comes in the morning.
but what about when i’m faced with the blackness of night?
i was surprised by my reaction. in all reality, the advice given wasn’t wrong. but i don’t think it was right, either.
[and before you scroll down to hit the comment button to tell me how wrong i am…let me explain.]
i think, as christians, we are far too easily persuaded to throw bible verses at people, pat them on the back and turn away. i think, as christians, we expect the answer of “God is faithful – His will is perfect” to be absolutely sufficient in moments of struggle.
but what if God meant for us as christians, at that moment of struggle in someone’s life, to nod our heads, hold out our hands, and say, i get it.
the answer of “read your Bible” did nothing to renew hope. it frustrated me. since the moment of disappointment, there’d been verses flowing through my head. trust in the lord. i know the plans i have for you. comfort me so i can live. when two or more are gathered in my name.
i didn’t need scripture.
what i needed happened shortly after the first response. two or three people let me know i wasn’t alone. they dealt with the same questions. slowly, other people started joining in on the conversation. others shared insight. and whereas the first response felt like a shrug in my direction, what came after felt like a collective embrace. we aren’t alone in doubt – and doubt itself isn’t sinful.
doubt can even bring you closer to Christ.
this weekend, russ & i escaped to houston for a benefit with hundreds of prayers from friends covering our retreat. they knew how much we needed respite. russ catered the event, and we stayed with friends who work for the ministry that began the feeding center in kibera. walking in to the house, the view startled me. bright blue skies. wide windows. green grass leaning towards a bay of water. we were immediately greeted with hugs and “how are yous” and “make yourself at homes”
for the first time in quite awhile, my heart began to breathe. slowly, i could feel it peeking out of hiding. hope wasn’t as illusive as before. i could smell the possibilities of beginnings.
on sunday, i sat on the couch overlooking the sun stretching across the sky, reflecting its journey across the water. my own bones mimicked the exercise, relaxing against the deep cushions. i checked twitter and noticed a verse familiar to me posted on a friend’s feed.
it was from Psalm 51, and a verse God gave me almost two years ago when we faced a particularly disappointing season: God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.
i smiled. fixed on the verse, i couldn’t help but hear the quiet voice of Him – singing over my wounds.
i know, my daughter. i know what you’re facing – and i need you to know i’m doing something new. this chaos will not last forever. this is the year of my jubilee. wait. hold on. Rescue is coming.
i closed my eyes and rested my head against the pillow. my heart, following the motions of the sun and my bones, stepped out of the darkness and squinted against the light. i winced at the stretching – your heart gets stiff in hiding.
but taking another glance at the sun, i knew it was safe. joy does come in the morning, and with friends holding my hand and prayers lifted on our behalf, i knew the dawn was just over the horizon.
Christina
December 13, 2010
Thank you for sharing this. I am with you on the struggle to hope and I am encouraged by your revelation which reminds me that God still knows my name and where I live. Needed that today. 🙂
eloranicole
December 13, 2010
you’re so right. He knows our name. thanks for commenting, christina!
Leigh
December 13, 2010
The middle is always such a hard place to be. Yes, we know God will do something with and through this time but it sucks being there. Sometimes I think people that haven’t experienced any difficulty are more likely to throw a verse or platitude your way- once they’ve gone through a dark night or two, they understand that it’s not the best approach. Scripture can be very comforting but when you’re anguished, you might need a more tangible word from God. Maybe in your case, it was your weekend escape. The one thing I cling to is that middles don’t last forever. We may not get the answers we want or in the timeframe we want but eventually either our circumstances or hearts will change.
eloranicole
December 13, 2010
absolutely agree, leigh. middles don’t last forever. isn’t that comforting?
Amanda Sims
December 13, 2010
So glad God chose to speak soothing words to your heart through that verse. Praying for renewed joy for you today!
eloranicole
December 13, 2010
thanks for posting it, amanda. 🙂
Kristin
December 17, 2010
Elora:
I read so many stories and think ‘God your plans are really unknowable.’ I can’t comprehend the suffering– and then God’s answer came to me in the Christmas service this weekend. He said, ‘oh little one, I asked Jesus to endure horrible suffering similar to all that mankind has endured. He paid it all, he suffered it all and has compassion on you. He knew ridicule, poverty, whippings, abandonment and horrors you can only imagine on the cross when I placed the sins of the world on Him.’
So when you say no hope–I would guess Jesus felt that loss of hope, and just like you know the end of the story; he did as well. The answer is not easy, but you didn’t think it would be. We are complex people, but we are to deny ourselves. Selflessness. When my selfishness pops up–I tell myself, would you die already. This is not about you. You are most happy when you die to your selfish wants. You can do it, day by day (just like me). 🙂
eloranicole
December 18, 2010
Kristin: absolutely. Thank you for this. God is so faithful – even when it doesn’t feel like it. He’s still there. He always will be – it’s one thing I can count on to never change. 🙂