I was sure by now, God, You would have reached down and wiped my tears away, stepped in and saved the day. But, once again, I say "amen" and it's still raining. As the thunder rolls, I barely hear You whisper through the rain, "I'm with you." And as Your mercy falls, I raise my hands and praise the God who gives...and takes away.
Lord, I will praise You in this storm--I will lift my hands for You are who You are no matter where I am. Every tear I've cried, You hold in Your hand. You never left my side. And though my heart is torn...I will praise You in this storm.
These are some of the lyrics to a song that has truly spoken to my heart as of late, Praise You in This Storm by Casting Crowns. Every now and then I read in the book of Job and I can only imagine that, at some point, he would have sung this song too. Job went through a definite storm and by no means am I about to compare our circumstances, but--I can feel his heart ache. I can identify with his groanings. At one point, Job says, "Why then did you bring me out of the womb? I wish I had died before any eye saw me. If only I had never come into being, or had been carried straight from the womb to the grave!" (Job 10:18-19)
Job was obviously not a mother. He had no idea what sort of pain it would cause him to literally lose a child from his own body. But he did know he belonged to God. Somewhere, down deep, he knew.
In response to Job's cry, a man named Zophar replied:
"Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty? They are higher than the heavens--what can you do? They are deeper than the depths of the grave--what can you know? Their measure is longer than the earth and wider than the sea." (Job 11:7-9)
"Yet if you devote your heart to him and stretch out your hands to him, if you put away the sin that is in your hand and allow no evil to dwell in your tent, then you will lift up your face without shame; you will stand firm and without fear. You will surely forget your trouble, recalling it only as waters gone by." (Job 11:13-16)
It's hard to imagine a day when my trouble will be forgotten and I will only think of it in passing. Especially when I am reminded of it so frequently. Like yesterday at work.
"How old is your little girl?"
"She's six weeks old, born on May 12th. Do you have kids?"
"Well...sort of. One in Heaven. She was born on May 30th."
"Oh, May 30th...that's---"
"four weeks, today actually..."
"Well...you're holding up really well..."
Yeah. I'm holding up. And I'll keep holding up. I will praise Him in this storm....it's the only way I know I'll survive it.
Haley, reading your words is breaking my heart. I cannot even begin to imagine what it is you are going through. That song was one my uncle sang very close to his passing when he was in the midst of chemo they know wouldn't save his life. His faith was so strong and I can see that same strength in you. Please know my thoughts are with you and Spencer
ReplyDeletedo love that song...thinking of you. His ways so beyond ours. So much greater~ I cannot understand it, I guess that's why its called faith. love you dear one.
ReplyDeleteHaley,
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely post. I am so glad that you have chosen to use your writing talents as a way of processing your grief. There are so many writers who turn away from pain in their writing. You are leaning into it, dealing with it, facing it, and I cannot tell you how proud I am of your courage, insight, strength, and spirit.
I do not pretend to understand, but I come close. It is because you allow all of us who read your blog to come close that this is even possible.
Keep going! Say hello to Spencer.
Kyle