I wish I could feel God move.
It was a comment on a post, and it broke my heart. But I also could relate. I know that feeling of, “What are you doing, God, and are you even there? Do you even care?”
I know how he would respond if we could hear him in those moments. He might not explain what is happening, but he without a doubt would declare, “Yes, I am here, beloved. I care beyond measure. I know this hurts beyond your imagination. Hang onto me. Trust me. We will do endure together.”
Sure, I don’t know the words he’d use. I know his character, or at least what I’m capable of understanding at this point in my life. But in those moments of intense pain and confusion, we can’t necessarily hear God or sense his presence. It is all so much. We are numb and pressed and bruised and overwhelmed and…
I can’t make it better by replying to the woman’s comment or writing this post.
Sometimes it’s not so much about what God will do but who he is. We can’t finish that sentence. We just know, and that knowledge doesn’t take away our pain and devastation, but we keep looking to him. We keep breathing. We keep hoping.
The verses that contain but God and even if are powerful to me, but even the isolated phrases hold as much truth for me, because they strengthen my hope and my faith.
I don’t know what you’re going through right now. Perhaps pretty much everything is going okay, but there is that one area of struggle and anxiety is relentless. I’m praying for you. Hold on.