Whenever I see runners or kids playing by the road, I
compulsively pray, ‘Lord, protect them; keep them safe.’ Then today I had the
thought: what if safe isn’t the will of God?
I cried myself to sleep last night. It’s surreal to feel
your tears fade into unconsciousness.
One of the main Hebrew words for “wept” is bakah and it has the connotation of
bitter lamentation. It’s famously used in Psalm 84: “passing through the valley
of Baca”. A Psalm of Ascent, the
Israelites pass through a valley of tears before going from “strength to
strength” and appearing before God in Zion.
One man also wept: Jacob. (sidenote: I appreciate that Jacob
is a patriarch because he was pretty fucked up.) In Genesis 32, we read of the
famous encounter between Jacob and God (or, a messenger of God). Jacob had just
sent he family across the ford of Jabbok while he remained on the other side.
He then encounters God and wrestles him until daybreak. But Hosea 12:3-6 illuminates
this encounter and says that, “he wept and sought his favor”. This changes
everything for me as I read about this encounter. Jacob wept. He practically
begged for the figure’s favor. It was a true rub between man and God.
I wept as I scrolled through Reddit, looking for anything to
take my mind off the sweet girl I had met with earlier that day. She was a
fragile flower that I had the privilege of holding in my arms. Yes, she truly
was suffering. And the worst part was, I only foresaw more suffering in her
life; at least more suffering before things got better. Yes, I had walked a
similar road and knew that there was more pain before even a glimpse of glory.
Oh, how I wanted to save this strong, driven young woman. But that wasn’t my
job. My job was to hold her in the middle of her suffering. I think that is our
premier task in ministering to the beaten-down: a ministry of presence. We
honestly need to shut our mouths and wrap our arms around people. For in the
good-willed “Christian wisdom” we dispense, we are far less wise than we think.
This was it. This was the life I was called to. Giving
everything to be present with people. Crying myself to sleep. Strangely, in
these fading moments, I felt more alive than ever. It reminded me of another
moment in which I held on to someone in her most profound moment of suffering.
It was the saddest moment of my life, but also the most distinctly human. I
would never trade these moments, though they come at the highest price.
The past few months, I have been wrestling with God like
Jacob. Rather, wrestling before God with things. I remember a devotion I
read when I was 16 that has stuck with me ever since. In My Utmost for His Highest on day December 16, Oswald Chambers
writes, “God’s permissive will is the means whereby his sons and daughters are
manifested. We are not to be like jellyfish saying, ‘It is the Lord’s will.’ We
have not to but up a fight before God, not to wrestle with God, but to wrestle
before God with things. Beware of
squatting lazily before God instead of putting up a glorious fight so that you
may lay hold of his strength.” We must remember that God is not our enemy. We
must let our falling tears be intercession for God to intervene in our situations
of life. Your tears are holy; let ‘em flow.
I remember my earlier thought. Perhaps the will of God isn’t
safe.
“Safe?...Course He isn’t safe. But He’s good. He’s the King,
I tell you.”
