I stood at my sister’s memorial service six years ago, having not spoken to God for the several days following her death.
The anger was too much. The hurt, the pain, the rawness. Two days after her passing, I literally held out my hand in a darkened bedroom when all I could feel around me was His presence. His presence, just waiting for me to reach out to Him.
I did, with one hand. In that dark moment, that moment of utter confusion, anguish, and of a grief so deep I didn’t even recognize it, I reached out to Him and said, “You can wait.”
I wanted nothing to do with a God who I felt didn’t protect my sister. Who I felt was not there in her final moments on Earth.
Prior to stepping up to a microphone to speak for several minutes that one day in 2015, I prayed in my chair that He would provide me the strength I needed to say what I needed to say. And for 10 minutes, He provided just what I asked of Him. Then I shut Him back out.
And I share this story often because I clung to those 10 minutes over the following months after my sister’s suicide. I clung to knowing He was there in my darkest, even when I shut Him out – and it gave me the hope I needed.
That He will provide. That He doesn’t desert. That He is a patient God. If I said, “The darkness will definitely hide me; the light will become night around me,” even then the darkness isn’t too dark for you! Nighttime would shine bright as day, because darkness is the same as light to you!” Psalm 139:11-12
There are struggles we face when we wonder how God works through it all. Why He is so quiet? Or even when we push Him away, how He possibly could be overseeing any of it?
Then days pass. Weeks, months. Possibly even years. And we’re able to finally look back after we have passed through whatever hardships, darkness, uncertainties, and we’re able to whisper, “Oh… okay. Okay, I see it. Okay. Okay.”
And we’re numb. Dumbstruck. And we hold on to our revelation. Is it a revelation when we know deep in our heart He is always there? It is when we don’t feel it or choose not to acknowledge it.
We may apologize to Him, but we finally feel free to move forward. Or to move, period. I know I’m not alone in this. I’ve seen you walk through broken relationships, wondering where God was in your arguments. I’ve seen you grieve, calling out to God about the unfairness of it all.
I’ve watched you mend your child’s heart, wondering how others can be so cruel.
I’ve watched families split apart, holding on to the thinnest of threads of hope. I’ve even watched women leave abusive relationships learn about the strength they had to leave, survive, and live – really live – through their healing, and who say, “Only God.”
I will answer them before they even call to me. While they are still talking about their needs, I will go ahead and answer their prayers! Isaiah 65:24
We don’t give Him adequate glory for the considerable number of times we push Him away or don’t seek His presence during difficult times. Or question His existence or love. We don’t acknowledge enough that He is there when our world falls apart.
And I’ll praise You in this storm; And I will lift my hands; For You are who You are; No matter where I am; And 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.
Casting Crowns
There’s no greater truth. We don’t just praise due to circumstance, but always. We don’t just lift our hands to the Heavens when things go our way – but, always. We don’t just give thanks when we receive a favorable response to prayer… but, always.
Especially – over and again – when we don’t sense its purpose. Even when we can’t make sense out of any of it. Especially then.
I miss my sister every day, and will never stop telling this part of my story. Those 10 minutes I asked for… those 10 minutes told me everything I’ll ever need to know.
It provided me with the power to remember that even when we don’t understand how or where God is working, that He is.