I stopped writing in my personal blog 3 years ago. My last publish was the day before Jon died. Funny enough, it was a blog about embracing suffering with a heart of praise…I had no idea what was about to come- but its beautiful that the Lord did.
Walking through grief for the first time caused me to do a lot of things I ended up regretting- cutting my bangs in the bathroom at 3 am was definitely in the top 5, but coming in first place was the fact that I deleted my entire blog account. Writing required tapping into emotions I wasn’t willing to feel…so I don’t have access to that particular blog- but I do remember that it was written in light of the Will Reagan song “Bless the Lord (We Have Come Cont.)” The song sings:
“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and let all thats within me shout out”
I remember writing on how the Lord was speaking to me through that song, and He was saying that even if they are shouts of pain, to let all that’s within me shout, and let it be filled with praise.
Only 24 hours later, and I was in the most excruciating, confusing, and literally unbelievable pain of my life. And I promise you, I didn’t think about that blog at all. On the contrary, my thoughts sounded more like “How could you do this? Why did you do this? I feel betrayed by You. You had my total devotion and trust and this is what you do with it? I will never trust you again.”
So I withheld my heart for months. I numbed my emotions. I buried my grief deep and I convinced myself and everyone else around me that I was fine, that I believed “God is still good,” and I was strong enough to handle this portion. But inwardly, I was angry, bitter, and in tremendous pain.
Its a long long story, but somehow, 8 months later, I found myself applying for The World Race instead of Seminary. Ultimately I found myself on the most unexpected journey of healing and restoration while being on the field. What I am so humbled by, is the patience, and chivalry the Lord showed me (and continues to show me)…He knew it would take some time before I trusted Him again and He never shamed me for that. He never rushed me to the alter of surrender and He never cornered me back into His love. And over the course of 3 years, I have come to discover that He is the most trustworthy keeper of a broken heart.
Do you ever have moments with the Lord that you remember so vividly the exact time and place? Well, one of them for me was a few weeks ago…I was driving home after a night of worship at AIM’s last training camp of the year. I was talking to the Father and as I drove over a set of train tracks, I remember saying to Him “I trust You with my heart, Father. I trust You with my desires. I see you holding it all carefully, and I realize now that you never mistreated any of it before when I thought you did. All of it was love.”
I didn’t even realize how deeply beautiful that moment was until this morning, when we were singing that same Will Reagan song “Bless the Lord” in Monday Morning Worship, and the Father reminded me of that moment crossing the train tracks. Jon died on train tracks, and it just seemed fitting to me that there was redemption waiting for me in the very place I met my deepest pain. He works in such beautiful ways like that.
Moral of the story is that pain hurts a lot…it feels ugly and messy and sometimes we can’t even make sense of the purpose behind it…I realize that I honestly haven’t even scratched the surface of suffering….but I’ve also realized that I am better acquainted with His heart in the suffering…and it will always be for us. My time here at CGA has caused so many things to surface. Some being new things to grieve and some being old things to surrender once more. Its a vulnerable thing to acquaint myself with pain once again…it comes with the fear of disappointment and unmet expectations…it requires abandoning the “perfect/put-together facade” and demands the authenticity and ownership of being completely, presently where I am in my process.
Theres something about choosing to walk through it anyways in light of what “could” happen…its empowering…and its life-giving…and I think I’m actually discovering that this scary, messy, undignified “YES” is what it means to live a whole-hearted life. After all, what if once again, redemption is waiting for me in the very places I meet my deepest pain?
