November 13, 2012

in His arms

This time last year, I was saying good-bye to a child whose face I'll never see this side of eternity.  This time six months ago, more good-byes were said.  Makes me wonder where I'll be in another six months.  I truly don't know the answer to that, but I'm trying to rest in His love and goodness.

I've been corresponding with another Anne, who I'm sure is also struggling to live up to her "full of grace" name.  She recently lost twins to a miscarriage and we've been sharing thoughts, prayers, and advice for awhile now.  Reading her latest email, I realized she's where I was six months ago.  That place where you doubt God's goodness and you find yourself asking Him, "I know You had the power to save my babies, why didn't You?"  And you feel horrible for asking Him that.

I still don't have all the answers for her, much less for myself.  But I think it helps both of us to know that given time and prayer, it does get easier.  I can look at where she is and see how far God has brought me, and she can look at where I am and know that He will be faithful to do the same for her. 

I read in a novel recently about a shepherdess who searches for her lost lamb.  She finds it with a broken leg, so she scoops it up in her arms and comforts it.  The lamb protests at first, since the comfort jostles its broken leg and brings pain, but the shepherdess tells the lamb that it's all right; pain means more time in the Shepherd's arms.  That really spoke to me.  Even when God allows pain in our lives, His arms are always open.  When we're in pain, we can also rest.  The thing is, we have to learn how to do both at the same time.  If we despair when we're in pain, if we bustle around and keep busy rather than deal with the pain, or if we shake our fists at God and refuse His comfort, then we can't rest in His arms.

Don't get me wrong, I'd much rather not have any pain in my life at all.  But in this fallen world where pain and sadness are inevitable, my only comfort can be in His arms and in His constant presence that never leaves me.  In His arms, I can learn how to be content and peaceful even when I don't know all the answers.

There are still times when the pain finds me and I remember all that I've lost.  I start asking God the same questions my friend is asking Him now.  When that happens, He calls me to rest in Him and to spend more time in His arms.  I find once I'm there, all those questions fade away and I remember that He is good no matter what state my heart is in that day.  And I also find that He never was disappointed in my weakness of faith, and that finding my way into His arms does His heart good too.

I heard this song the other day for the first time in awhile.  The lyrics really made me think about the state of my mind and heart when I was in the darkest part of the pain.  I wanted to come rest in Him, but my flesh told me that I couldn't as long as I was questioning what He was doing.  I eventually came to understand that I can always come to God no matter what state I'm in.  He just wants to love on me.  :o)

Could I talk to You? Are You listening?
Would You let me ask the questions that burn inside of me?
I am reaching out, I am holding on
Feel like one of Your affections, but not quite like I belong.

I am numb today, everything's a blur.
I've seen too much to deny, too little to be sure.
Like a prodigal, like a distant son,
I can see You from a distance but I'm too ashamed to come.

Will You see me through this valley?
Will You hold my outstretched hands?
As the world caves in around me, help me understand.
~ "Outstretched Hands," Starfield