Monday, November 15, 2010

lamentations and hope

"I don't even know what I would have wanted someone to say.
Not: It will be better.
Not: You don't think you'll live through this but you will.
Maybe: Tomorrow you will spontaneously combust. Tomorrow, finally, your misery will turn to wax and heat and you will burn and melt till nothing is left in your chair but a greasy, childless, smudge. That might have comforted me."

I read a great book this weekend. I have seen it quoted on a few blogs and decided that I needed to buy it and read it. The title alone practically sucked me in "An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination". It's a memoir about a woman who's first baby was stillborn. She does a great job of articulating the feelings and thoughts that seem impossible to express.

Imagine my surprise when my devotions this morning found a similar sense of drama and desperation, this time in the Bible, in the aptly named book of Lamentations.

"He shot his arrows deep into my heart.
The thought of my suffering and hopelessness is bitter beyond words.
I will never forge this awful time, as I grieve over my loss.
Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this:
the unfailing love of the Lord never ends!
By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction."

Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”
Lamentations 3: 13, 19-24

This writer, whew, he was going through some stuff. Read Lamentations 3 and try not to feel better. Dudes talkin' about how the Lord crushed his teeth with gravel and trampled him in the ground! I don't know if this is the first time the author of Lamentations felt this way or if he been through it before, I guess it doesn't matter.

The Lord is my portion, my inheritance, therefore I will hope. Ya'll today, that is the glimmer of light that invades my darkness. Hope. I have seen the Lord's faithfulness in the past; providing so many things for myself, my family, and my friends in so many different situations. Today (this week, this year) I need hope for the future.

I hope this gaping wound called grief will soon begin to heal. I hope it heals beautifully and the scar that remains will be a testimony to others and proof that God is real. I hope to survive this. I hope this sadness can produce something great...I hope for good things to happen in my life.

So I will hope as I remember and I will hope as I read of His faithfulness, goodness and love. And I will wait.

1 comment:

  1. I'm learning that sometimes God gives us "just enough light for the step we are on."

    I don't know if that verse in Lamentations has ever spoken to me before losing Amelia. I hate/love that it means so much now.

    I am so sorry for your loss, your grief and your struggles...and am so thankful for the hope we have in Jesus.

    Thank you for sharing your darkness and light today.

    Thinging of you and waiting right along with ya'!