Where's God When I'm Hurting?

"I love you, O Lord, my strength.

The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

I call to the Lord, who is worthy of praise,and I am saved from my enemies.

In my distress I called to the Lord;I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears."

(Psalms 18:1-3,6 NIV)

In my version of the Bible on YouVersion, today's psalm has this heading:

"For the director of music. Of David the servant of the Lord. He sang to the Lord the words of this song when the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies and from the hand of Saul."

David wrote this psalm after God had delivered him from the troops of Saul, who were bent on killing him. I'm guessing David was hiding out somewhere, tired but glad to be alive. It's kind of a victorious passage, but one thing stuck out to me.

David cried, and God heard his cry.

Over the past week, the health of Keri and her family has been in the front of my mind. I can't say for certain, but I'm guessing that Don & Tonya have had moments when they felt so helpless and alone. I think that's only normal in that situation. What I need to remember is this: when I cry, in my darkest hours, and I call out of God with my broken heart, His heart breaks, too.

Too often we only God as the great enforcer, standing on a cloud with a lightning bolt in hand, ready to "smite" us if we mess up. That's too bad, because when the disciples asked Jesus how to pray to God, Jesus began with telling them to call God "Abba", or Father. Jesus wanted us to know that God wanted to have that close of a relationship with us.

So when I think of Don and Tonya crying over Keri's situation, now I can see God crying, too, his heart hurting for His children. Typing this, I'm reminded of a great posting series by Derry about his struggles to have a child. It's so applicable, I've copied some here, but click this to read the whole post.

In God on Mute, Pete Greig reference to The Magician's Nephew from the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis (that's a lot of titles and authors). It's the story of a young boy named Digory whose mother is sick. He finds himself in a land containing magical fruit with healing powers. Digory approaches the great lion Aslan, and asks...

"May I - please, will you give me some magic fruit of this country to make Mother well?" He had been desperately hoping that the Lion would say "Yes"; he had been horribly afraid it might say "No." But he was taken aback when it did neither.

As I read this passage, I felt like Digory. I had gone to God with a sense of trembling and uncertainty only to be met by silence... My conclusion for the past few years has been that he must not care. He has more important things to worry about in this world than granting my request. Although I saw it as a huge deal, maybe He didn't. And I was externally willing to say that I was ok with that. Internally, I saw it as a load of B.S. But here's my "a-ha" moment... and maybe if you're wrestling through a situation where your prayers have been met by silence.
Later in the story, Digory approaches Aslan again.

"He thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out: But please, please won't you - can't you give me something that will cure Mother?" Up till then he had been looking at the Lion's great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in despair, he looked up at its face. What he was surprised him as much as anything in his whole life.
For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion's eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself."

God's silence does not mean he doesn't care. God's silence does not mean he doesn't hurt and wrestle alongside me. Most importantly God's silence does not mean he is saying no to my prayer.
This brings me to where I'm at now...
understanding I need to embrace the silence,
willing to dive in to the fact that my prayer has gone unanswered.
Open to crying out to God, "Why"?
Willing to look in His face and understand. He knows my pain better than I could ever.
Recognizing that the silence may have much more meaning than I initially think.

Words to ponder today, aren't they? Here's hoping we can find Him in the silence today.

(If you can identify with this post today, find the book "God On Mute" by Pete Greig". It's one of the most impactful books I've ever read, and a first person account of a man struggling to find God in the midst of personal pain and tragedy.)