“Rejoice
with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn.” - Romans 12:15
As I write, I mourn with a family who has just lost a loved young man far, far too early under tragic circumstances. My heart breaks with a family who has had yet another pregnancy loss in a sea of long years of infertility. My gut twists as I learn sinking news from a family in our church community, that the outcome of a crucial surgery wasn't what we prayed and believed for.
What words do we offer in the dark
hours? What do we say that doesn't cheapen the depth of hurt, discouragement, even despair? How do we acknowledge that this – all of this pain and fear and
grief and disappointment – feels like crashing waves or, perhaps more
accurately, a treacherous undertow?
Why do we sometimes leap to offer bright
and cheery, sunshiny words to people in deep suffering? The truth is, those cheery
words are much more for ourselves than for the person who is suffering. We try
and find something to say that allows US to feel less helpless, or to make sense
of something senseless. We feel we have to say something to ease the
suffering of another person. In fact, when we really amp up the “positive,” our
efforts often have the opposite effect because they can make people feel guilty
for not having the right mindset, not having enough faith, not being able to
see the sunny side…
When the truth is, even for followers of
Christ, there are dark hours. There are hours when we feel despair and don’t
know if we can go on. There are hours when, like our Saviour, our soul is
overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Can we accept that? What do we
do with that kind of darkness?
Contrary to the the phrase that is often
said to people who are suffering, scripture never promises that “God
will not give us more than we can handle.” Nowhere in the Bible does it say
that we will not find ourselves in circumstances that are more than we can
bear. The verse often used to back up this platitude is 1 Corinthians 10:13 –
which actually refers to our ability to resist temptation, not to our ability
to withstand suffering.
One of my favourite authors wrote: “It’s
not true that God never gives us more than we can handle. It’s ALWAYS more than
we can handle. That’s the point.” And that really, really IS the point! The
point is, there are many things in life that are just too much for us to bear
alone. That’s why we aren't meant to travel alone. We need God and we need one
another to bear it all.
In 12-step recovery support groups, the
word ‘HOPE’ is often used as an acronym for Hearing Other People’s Experiences.
We become HOPE to one another. It is people who have suffered and come through
that are able to share their story and allow us to see that although life hurts
and we bear scars… somehow there is a way through. When God seems far away and
shrouded by clouds and we are in a deep, dark pit… In these dark hours, we need
someone to believe in God’s goodness for us, when we may not be able to
feel it or see it for ourselves. And we experience God’s goodness to us through
the love and care and comfort of other people.
Often, in our dark hours, comfort does
not come in the form of cheery words and promises. Sometimes comfort just
crawls into our hole with us and holds our hand... so we know we're not in the
hole alone. Sometimes the deepest comfort we can receive is to have someone
else join our prayer for help.
In the upside-down Kingdom of God, we
find that (despite what we may have been led to believe from a very young age)
we don’t need to run from these dark hours. That, in fact, God can meet us in
these hours, right there in the dirt and the darkness. That, actually,
unbelievably, there’s something HOLY about these dark hours – if we are willing
to be fully present, listen, breathe…
“Blessed
are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” ~ Matthew 5:4
Arlene M.