“Oh, That My Words Were Recorded” (Job 19:23-27a)

“Oh, that my words were recorded,
    that they were written on a scroll,
that they were inscribed with an iron tool on lead,
    or engraved in rock forever!
I know that my redeemer lives,
    and that in the end he will stand on the earth.
And after my skin has been destroyed,
    yet in my flesh I will see God;
I myself will see him
    with my own eyes—I, and not another. (New International Version)

The biblical character Job expressed a feeling that all of us, at one time or another, have likely felt: Longing for someone to actually hear our voice, our words of grief, listen to them, and not let them fall into oblivion as if we were alone on this earth.

Job was hurting like no one before or after him. His grief was palpable. His pain was deep and intense. Not knowing what the heck was going on, he had zero understanding of why complete calamity came upon him.

Job’s family was killed, all but his wife. He lost all his earthly possessions to either theft or disaster. And his body was wracked with painful sores that covered his entire body. He was as miserable as one person could be. It was grief stacked upon grief.

In that misery and pain, after losing everything, Job didn’t want his words to be lost. He wanted them to be heard and remembered. Job needed to know that his voice was real, that he was not just speaking into the air.

This gets to the heart of what every grieving person likely wants: For someone to listen to their story of loss – for that story to be heard, listened to, and taken seriously.

I know the feeling. And I know it a bit more intimately than I would like to.

In this past year I was diagnosed with a health disorder that prevented me from continuing to work in a job I absolutely loved. This precipitated a move to another state to be near family. And there are many more losses and griefs to go along with all the changes in my life.

Going through circumstances that we neither asked for nor wanted is hard, especially when it involves significant losses. Without facing our grief, like Job did, we may end up losing ourselves and becoming lost or stuck in that grief.

Rather than me blithering on about the need for vulnerability, I myself will be vulnerable. One of the ways I accept, cope, and transcend hard stuff is through journaling. Here is a portion of my journal from today, unedited:

“I can feel myself sinking down toward the abyss. The darkness is beginning to overwhelm me. Everything – the changes, the transitions, the grief, the state of all things – is too much.

“Lord, have mercy.

“And so, I write, in the hope that my grief and big feelings of loss and of lostness will somehow fade into the background – not the foreground – of my life. Yes, it’s all a part of me. A very important part. And I never want to disavow it. Yet, it is only a part, and not the whole of me.

“Maybe that’s the thing I need to know and remember this day – that grief is not all of me; doesn’t define me as a person; and need not rule my life. There is some sort of ‘sweet spot’ in all this, in which I vulnerably and forthrightly acknowledge and talk about my grief without stuffing it away into an internal junk closet. But also, I do not necessarily focus on it as if grief is all that I am.

“Rather, I’m (like all other people) a complicated soul made up of many moving spiritual and emotional parts.

“It is ironic that a guy who once talked to grieving people on a daily basis is now grieving the loss of no longer talking to grieving people on a daily basis. Yet, here I am.

“One of the reasons I derived so much fulfillment from doing grief work with others is that it is so very much needed! I live in a society where everyone wants you to be okay, likely because they themselves are so very uncomfortable with grief and don’t know what to do with it. So, many people simply want everyone to be ‘normal,’ whatever the heck that actually means.

“Loss is painful, and no one (including me) wants to hurt. But the pain won’t go away magically. I (and everyone) must face the hurt, walk into and through the pain in order to feel better.

“To open-up to the unique pain of loss is the only way to realize emotional healing. In order to move on, we’ve got to stop trying to move on. Instead, let it out.

“In writing this I’m reminding myself what I’ve told hundreds of patients and parishioners who were going through their own unique circumstances of painful loss. Strength is found in embracing weakness, and not by trying to soldier on as if loss doesn’t bother me. It’s okay to grieve. And it’s okay to grieve any sort of loss. It’s more than okay; it’s absolutely needed.”

Eternally righteous God, merciful judge of all the living: In your love you called us to share the glory of Christ. Strengthen our hearts in every good work and word, so that we may be steadfast in your ways and always believe your truth. Amen.

Spiritually and Emotionally Overwhelmed

Gethsemane – His Will, by Lucy Dickens

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
    from where will my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth. (Psalm 121:1-2, NRSV)

“You can’t calm the storm, so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself. The storm will pass.” – Timber Hawkeye

Even Jesus got overwhelmed.

He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”

Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” (Matthew 26:37-39, New International Version)

Jesus was so spiritually and emotionally overwhelmed, he felt so bad, that depression and grief were a powerful part of his experience in the garden as he anticipated facing his horrendous death.

Yes, Jesus became grieved and depressed. Not only did he express such emotions in prayer, but he also told his feelings to his disciples. I personally don’t know of any leader – either in the world or in the church – that would ever admit such a thing to his/her parishioners, employees, or constituents.

Christ confessed that his very soul was encircled with grief-stricken depression. The weight of the emotion was so heavy that Jesus felt as though he was being crushed to death.

“It is one thing for Jesus to feel this way; but should a leader tell his followers he feels this way? Isn’t a part of effective leadership keeping fears from followers? But if Jesus having depression has already taught us it is acceptable, at times, to be depressed, then Jesus talking about his depression teaches that it is acceptable, at times, for leaders to tell followers the bad state of their souls.” – Frederick Dale Bruner, The Church Book: Matthew 13-28

If Jesus needed human companionship and the ability to bear his soul, then how much more do his followers need to do so? And especially the clerics who are ordained to his ministry?

Becoming overwhelmed is a universal human experience:

May my prayer come before you;
    turn your ear to my cry.

I am overwhelmed with troubles
    and my life draws near to death.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
    I am like one without strength. (Psalm 88:2-4, New International Version)

We may become overwhelmed by being devastated or feeling overpowered by a confluence of circumstances all at once. To be overwhelmed is to experience several big emotions all at once – including an awful feeling of estrangement from God and/or others.

Whenever complicated grief, relational distance, traumatic experiences, and too many responsibilities come together, they create a perfect storm which can leave us stuck, lonely, and chronically tired.

There are times when it seems as if every time we turn around, there’s another big shoe that drops. We might end up dealing with so many large circumstances and important situations happening at the same time, that we become spiritually and emotionally overwhelmed with it all.

Although it’s easy to become overwhelmed, it’s hard to get over those big, troubled feelings. Yet, we can do it. We can initially calm ourselves enough to function.

Yet, we also need to understand that the emotional array surrounding our difficult circumstances will take more than a few minutes and a few breathing exercises to overcome; it could take weeks, months, even longer.

What’s more, going forward, there will always be a need to listen to our bodies, be attentive to our feelings, and remain in touch with our gut instincts.

We could use some helpful habits to serve us well, whenever we sense the tug toward that sinking feeling of becoming spiritually and emotionally overwhelmed:

  • Sit with your emotions, especially the grief. That is, acknowledge your feelings, and actually let yourself feel them, and express them in positive ways that don’t damage others or their property.
  • Identify and list your current stressors. Then, prioritize them as to which you will work on first. Avoid multi-tasking. Breaking down your life into manageable pieces, done over time with patience, is a healthy way of approaching the behemoth in front of you.
  • Write out your experiences. Keep a daily journal. Focus on expressing both your emotions and your gratitude. The act of writing in and of itself is a powerful means of bringing health, wholeness, and some sort of sense to your situations.
  • Create art. Learn a musical instrument, write your own poetry, sculpt, or paint. Let any anger and frustration come out through your art, rather than coming out sideways onto others through verbal violence.
  • Discover new or alternative spiritual practices, i.e. mindfulness, meditation, Reiki, aromatherapy, breath prayers, etc. Crazy new circumstances you’ve never experienced before may require some seemingly new or strange practices you’ve never tried before.
  • Change the story you are telling yourself. Look for parts of your experience within your control. Learn from the past. Consider what you might do differently in the future in similar situations. In other words, let your story not be one big nasty carbuncle on your soul; allow it to be a companion that teaches you.
  • Consider having a comfort animal. Caring for a pet fosters emotional healing. This one addition to your life could change it immeasurably for good.
  • Engage your inner critic. Face the judgment you may be giving yourself and replace it with grace. Work on dropping the ego and becoming your true self. And there is perhaps no better way of this happening than facing your inner critic.
  • Exercise. Pay attention to where you carry stress in your body. Find an enjoyable way of moving your body.
  • Connect with others. Join a group of like-minded people, such as a faith community or a volunteer organization. Tell your story to another trusted person, such as a friend, therapist, or pastor.
  • Find your identity. Most spiritual traditions take a high view of humanity as having intrinsic worth. As for me, I know to whom I belong: God. Having my identity firmly in Christ – and not in my abilities, or the lack of them – makes all the difference.

Our limitations, screw-ups, diseases, disorders, and disasters need not define our lives. There is no shame in admitting when we are full of sorrow, in the throes of grief, experiencing depression, or living in an awful situation.

Taking Jesus as an example, we have the courage to face stressful adversity and become the people we were always meant to become.

May the places of darkness within you be turned towards the light. And may you know divine shelter and healing blessing when you are called to stand in the place of pain. Amen.

Feeling the Pain (Job 23:1-9, 16-17)

Then Job answered:

“Today also my complaint is bitter;
    his hand is heavy despite my groaning.
Oh, that I knew where I might find him,
    that I might come even to his dwelling!
I would lay my case before him
    and fill my mouth with arguments.
I would learn what he would answer me
    and understand what he would say to me.
Would he contend with me in the greatness of his power?
    No, but he would give heed to me.
There the upright could reason with him,
    and I should be acquitted forever by my judge.

“If I go forward, he is not there;
    or backward, I cannot perceive him;
on the left he hides, and I cannot behold him;
    I turn to the right, but I cannot see him….

God has made my heart faint;
    the Almighty has terrified me.
If only I could vanish in darkness,
    and thick darkness would cover my face. (New Revised Standard Version)

Here is Job, sitting on an ash heap, of all things, and feeling like an ash. His children are gone, all killed by tragic circumstances. His wealth is no more. And now he is lamenting, because he can do nothing else; he has painful nasty sores covering his body that won’t let him do anything.

Job and his friends, by Ilya Repin (1844-1930)

And if that isn’t enough, Job’s “friends” come and end up giving him unhelpful speeches about how all this suffering is really his fault. They reasoned (wrongly) that there must be loads of sin in Job’s life for him to be going through such horror. God is punishing him, they insist.

Job’s companions had initially started out well. For seven days they sat with him in silence (Job 2:13). But then, after a week had passed, they just couldn’t take it anymore. They had the compulsion to speak. And when they opened their mouths, it was merely a bunch of ignorant gobbledygook.  

The friends, the companions, were themselves having an existential theological crisis. Their worldview was being challenged and threatened. So, rather than be open-minded and consider that their views may need to be altered, the friends acted like enemies, accusing Job of sin.

At issue was their clear and clean theology of believing that good guys are blessed with wealth, health, and happiness; and bad guys are cursed with poverty, illness, and misery – like Job.

They could not imagine or entertain the thought that God would let a good person suffer like Job was suffering. Therefore, Job must be bad, and they tried to find that hidden sin within him  to which he must repent of.

Yet, in truth, not all suffering – even terrible grinding suffering – is the result of personal sin or bad decision-making. Sometimes, good people suffer horribly, too.

Times may change, but people throughout the ages don’t. Today, we still think along the same lines as the companions of Job. There is far too much blaming of victims for their victimization; and way too many flippant beliefs which say to others in a terrible situation things like, “You reap what you sow.”

Job, through all of the loss, tragedy, and then suffering from his friends, held onto his integrity. Even though Job knew his situation was undeserved, he did not curse God, nor his friends.

Job made the incredible claim that suffering is not always the result of one’s personal sin – something he himself might not have said before his tragic experiences.

But just because Job did not curse, does not mean he was nice and okay with what unfolded in his life. He wished he was never born. He felt like death would be preferable to living. He contended with God, and longed for justice. His ultimate wish was that God would just speak and say something, anything.

Job was hurting so terribly, that he had bitter words of despair for God. He could make absolutely no sense of what was happening. He could not understand why he was the brunt of so much suffering. It felt like God was attacking him, and he said so.

The silence and absence of God were palpable for Job. He longed to speak with God. And his greatest lament – out of all the reasons to lament – was the horrible feeling of being alone without God’s presence and consolation.

It is interesting that we have no mention in the story about Job’s friends speaking directly to God, or praying to God, or addressing God in any way.

They certainly felt free to tell Job who God is, and how God operates in the world. But there was never any intercession for their friend, and no words of crying out to God on behalf of Job. There was only words of rebuke and chastisement, words of hurt that were as painful as the physical sores on his body

The phrase I hear most often from people speaking to the person in grief and pain is, “You just need to be strong.” And a close second is, “Everything happens for a reason.” The latter phrase is simply unhelpful, and the former phrase is actually hurtful.

It is not a sin to be weak. Just in case you read that sentence too quickly, I will say it again: It. Is. Not. A. Sin. To. Be. Weak!

We understand that when someone breaks a bone, they’ll be limited with weakness for a while. And we make helpful accommodations to that effect. But when someone’s heart is broken, and their life emotionally shredded, we expect them to be strong for everyone else around them.

It may be true that everything happens for a reason, yet most of the time, none of us knows the reason why we’re going through what we’re going through. And we probably won’t, this side of heaven.

If we try to have explanations for everything, then we join the company of Job’s companions who had to try and understand what was happening. And their conclusions were very wrong.

However, there is nothing wrong with weeping with those who weep; and expressing pain, grief, and even anger – both for the one who laments, and those who lament with them.

Pain cannot be relieved unless it is acknowledged, affirmed, and addressed by both the one who suffers and the community who surrounds them.

Where there is lament, there are loud words and expressions of grief. When lament is said to God, then God can hold that person, and rock them in the arms of mercy.

But silence is agonizing. We need friends who will listen and grieve with us. It is vital to have companions who voice to God what we cannot voice in our weakness. All of us, together, must hold onto God, and trust that the Lord hears, and will answer.

As Jesus cried out on the cross, I cry out to you in pain, O God my Creator. Do not forsake me. Grant me relief from this suffering and preserve me in peace; through Jesus Christ my Savior, in the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Be Merciful to Me (Psalm 57)

“For thy mercy is great unto the heavens, and thy truth unto the clouds.” (Psalm 57:10, KJV) by Bible Art

Be merciful to me, O God; be merciful to me,
    for in you my soul takes refuge;
in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge,
    until the destroying storms pass by.
I cry to God Most High,
    to God who fulfills his purpose for me.
He will send from heaven and save me;
    he will put to shame those who trample on me.
God will send forth his steadfast love and his faithfulness.

I lie down among lions
    that greedily devour human prey;
their teeth are spears and arrows,
    their tongues sharp swords.

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens.
    Let your glory be over all the earth.

They set a net for my steps;
    my soul was bowed down.
They dug a pit in my path,
    but they have fallen into it themselves.
My heart is steadfast, O God;
    my heart is steadfast.
I will sing and make melody.
    Awake, my soul!
Awake, O harp and lyre!
    I will awake the dawn.
I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples;
    I will sing praises to you among the nations.
For your steadfast love is as high as the heavens;
    your faithfulness extends to the clouds.

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens.
    Let your glory be over all the earth. (New Revised Standard Version)

The Human Condition

Maybe it’s just me, yet it seems, over the past several years, that our world has become increasingly depressed, jaded, and unkind. Things like appreciation and encouragement of others are found less and less as time goes on. It’s as if we are all in some sort of collective funk, in which everyone has an underlying sullenness and frustration about them.

Humanity has suffered a great deal of change and loss, without a healthy means of grieving and lamenting for what has happened to them. In other words, we simply don’t know what to do with our hurt, so we end up projecting our hurt onto others. *Sigh*

There is something that we all share together about the human experience: Sooner or later, someone or a group of people will let us down. They will hurt us in some way. And that hurt will change us – either for good or for ill.

What’s worse, many have experienced, or will experience, some sort of abuse and victimization from another person or group – leaving them scarred by trauma. And, what’s more, there are those who have had their very lives at risk, because someone intentionally sought to kill them. 

King David’s Condition

That is the company David found himself in when King Saul, and the later when his son Absalom, sought to do away with his life.

To David’s credit, he never retaliated and did not try and turn the tables by putting a hit out on either Saul or Absalom. Instead, David cried out to God. And we get to listen in on the prayer. Today’s psalm is David’s prayerful reliance upon the God in whom he put all his trust and praise. 

The entire basis of prayer is to let God be God. So, how do we exactly do that?

Our Condition

Whenever the storms of life assail us, calloused persons trample on us with impunity, devious individuals set traps for us, and greedy organizations prey upon us, we must refuse to respond in kind.

Instead, let us deliberately praise the Lord, rely on divine protection, and pray to God, so that we might steadfastly hold on to our confidence. Because if God is for us, nothing nor no one, can be against us.

That advice may seem like a sort of pie-in-the-sky rot of ginning up positive thoughts when there is nothing positive to be seen in the experience. Yet, please keep in mind that we must never, and I repeat, never invalidate another’s experience, nor our own, when those experiences are hellish.

There is always hope. There are two unshakable truths which are constant, and are never diminished by any adverse circumstance:

  1. God is present with us
  2. God loves us

If we know nothing else, and everything seems to be descending into the abyss of tragedy, the twin towers of divine presence and divine mercy stand guard as the strongest sentinels over our dilapidated situation, and struggling faith.

Letting God be God means not to try and control things we have no control over. Rather, it means to affirm that the Lord is willing and capable of handling our worst stuff.

It could be that we are stuck in the belly of a whale because, without our knowing it, there are sharks surrounding us, who cannot get to us because of divine attention and protection.

Our perspective of life-circumstances is, at best, severely limited. It is much better to place faith in the God who sees it all, with an expansive eye which misses nothing.

One of the best things, to me, about the psalms is that they are a wonderful collection of prayers we can adopt for our own. Not only can we use them for ourselves, but we are also obliged to do so. 

If anyone has been in an adverse situation, so deep that it feels like having ambled into a pride of lions, it’s quite likely that the experience leaves one with no adequate words to say. There we are – paralyzed with fear, and unable to move. 

So, let the psalm say for you what you cannot even begin to utter yourself. The Word of God is not meant to sit on a coffee table,  or to rest on a shelf; it is meant to be opened and used for prayer. Allow it to do its intended purpose.

Who knows? Perhaps your faith in the mercy of God, and your praises lifted to God, will give rise to a newfound confidence and peace, so that you can rest secure, even when all around you is going to hell.

Be merciful to me, O God, for in you my soul takes refuge. Even though I feel the slash of people with tongues as swords, my heart is steadfast, and I will exalt your name above the heavens. Let your glory be over all the earth! Amen.