When this pain hit, I knew You, Abba God. A Father, closer to me that my own skin. But, You let me down.
Where were you in her suffering? Where were you in her time of need? Why couldn’t I see You? Why couldn’t I feel You?
I still can’t… not like I used to.
Even in her suffering and pain, she encouraged me to look to You. Do not despair, child, she’d say. Be encouraged in the Lord, and trust in His plan. He’s got joy for us yet, precious girl.
God? I don’t see the joy in Your plan. I just hurt. I just feel utterly alone without her.
Everyone around me is exuberant with faith proclamations… so sweet is their utterances of assurance… so sickly sweet… I feel sick inside at the sound of their voices. Angry. Alone, and misunderstood… not understanding how they can so glibly proclaim Your greatness… Would they actually believe their own words if their worlds were shattered? Would they really be so glib with praises and declarations… would they really have this bouncy ardent joy if they were in my shoes, as they claim? If so, they are far more righteous and perfect than I can ever be!
I am ostracized by my own lack of faith.
….Faith as small as a mustard seed, You say… faith that endures, regardless of how small, You say… I hear her voice, trust His plan dear one, look at the joy He has for us… think of all the things we have to thank Him for…
You’ve taught me the strength that is found in gratitude through pain… in the praise arising from agony, the reward of long-suffering… patiently waiting on You in the midst of unanswerable questions and indescribably circumstances.
You taught me these things through her. Remember?
I need to feel Your arms around me. I can’t believe You right now, I need to feel You.
You, God, and not another one of Your messengers.
No more of your servants, so exuberantly ignorant in their passion and zeal that they pierce tender places in their misfired exhorting. No more testimonies of their miracles, their healing… NO MORE! Not another word of someone else’s experience of You. I am sick to death of them, their cheery hallelujahs, amens, and praises are like trying to swallow rotting fish. All sugary sweet… and so unwelcome…
Only You can represent You. Only You get it. You knew her, You knew me with her in my life. You know me now, without her… Only you saw her suffering and demise… her slow lingering decay from a vibrant woman to a shell of flesh… You witnessed the tears and heartbreak of hopes crushed and faith denied. You know better than to cheer me on…
Where were You? Where are You? Why didn’t you answer us when we believed? I can’t pretend with You. You know me too well. I don’t want to pretend, my faith isn’t fluff… or maybe it was… and that’s why it seems to have disappeared.