Then a Song Came Along
The other night, I was at home alone, and through various circumstances was feeling generally crappy. In this season of my life, I've really been learning about the reality of things that can happen to us that - no matter what good may ultimately come out of them - will always simply hurt in a deep place. For me, that situation largely comes back to my parent's divorce three years ago, and despite good that has come of of an otherwise horrible situation, the divorce itself and the loss of my family as such will always hurt very deeply. There is nothing that can be done about it; it's not a matter of "being emotionally healed," because I think I have been to a large extent. It is the simple yet profound reality that in this world (as promised, incidentally) we will have trouble - and not just the inconvenient, "crap, I got stuck behind another red light" kind of trouble. Trouble will come in deep, profound disappointment, heartbreak, sadness and lonliness at some point(s).
It may sound childish, and probably was, but up until that single event in my life, I had never had to face that reality. Any "trouble" that had come my way before then had been such that I could get away to a quiet place, reconcile my heart, anxieties, or pain with God, and simply put it behind me and move on. If I really sat down and dug it up, I suppose it would still hurt, but not like this. This has been a lasting sadness that, in fact, has actually grown deeper with time. It is not to say it has robbed me of my joy (and I intentionally distinguish 'joy' as being different from 'happiness'), but it has certainly grown with me, aged with me, and fermented from a bitter wine to a smooth, sad one. I can't shake it, so to speak, though I have certainly sought to as before through hours of solitude and laying my frustrations and hurt before God. Only recently have I realized that no amount of introspection or time alone with God would neatly put bookends on the experience, and close off the pain. It will be with me the rest of my life.
It is events like these that are among the hardest to face in life, although often the foundation for the deepest growth of the human spirit. It may come through divorce, it may come through death, it may come through rejection, betrayal, or failure; in fact, it is foolish to speculate the type of event it could be for a person, because taken in proportion, what might seem a small trial in one life could be sheer devastation in that of another. There are times in facing these hard realities of lasting hurt when the world, and everything in it, can seem dark indeed. Even having the head-knowledge of the repercussions of a soverign, omnipotent God giving man the free will to choose - or not choose - His love, and that what is gained for sin, pain, and death is well worth the cost, my heart-reality only cries out: "What is the point, if there is some pain that cannot be redeemed? Why couldn't You, the all-powerful, all-knowing Father, have made the world some other way?" [By the way, if you don't believe in free will, it gets even worse, because then it's definitely God's fault.]
It was the other night that this head-knowledge and heart-reality were wrestling (very verbally and out-loud) with God, when from nowhere (and by nowhere, I certianly mean Somewhere) a song started playing in my head. It was a David Wilcox song I haven't listened to in years, and literally, without permission, interruped everything I could say, think or feel. Click here to open the music player. Select "David Wilcox: Show the Way" as the track as you read long with the sung words.
You say you see no hope.
You say you see no reason we should dream
That the world would ever change
You're saying love is foolish to believe.
'Cause they'll always be some crazy,
With an army, or a knife,
To wake you from your daydream,
Put the fear back in your life.
Look, if someone wrote a play
Just to glorify what's stronger than hate
Would they not arrange the stage
To look as if the hero came too late?
He's almost in defeat
It's lookin' like the evil side will win
So on the edge of every seat,
From the moment that the whole thing begins
It is Love who mixed the mortar
And it's Love who stacked these stones
And it's Love who made the stage here,
Although it looks like we're alone
In this scene, set in shadows
Like the night is here to stay
There is evil cast around us,
But it's Love that wrote the play
For in this darkness Love can show the way
... And that moment, my heart closed it's eyes, nodded slowly, and rested. Amen.
It may sound childish, and probably was, but up until that single event in my life, I had never had to face that reality. Any "trouble" that had come my way before then had been such that I could get away to a quiet place, reconcile my heart, anxieties, or pain with God, and simply put it behind me and move on. If I really sat down and dug it up, I suppose it would still hurt, but not like this. This has been a lasting sadness that, in fact, has actually grown deeper with time. It is not to say it has robbed me of my joy (and I intentionally distinguish 'joy' as being different from 'happiness'), but it has certainly grown with me, aged with me, and fermented from a bitter wine to a smooth, sad one. I can't shake it, so to speak, though I have certainly sought to as before through hours of solitude and laying my frustrations and hurt before God. Only recently have I realized that no amount of introspection or time alone with God would neatly put bookends on the experience, and close off the pain. It will be with me the rest of my life.
It is events like these that are among the hardest to face in life, although often the foundation for the deepest growth of the human spirit. It may come through divorce, it may come through death, it may come through rejection, betrayal, or failure; in fact, it is foolish to speculate the type of event it could be for a person, because taken in proportion, what might seem a small trial in one life could be sheer devastation in that of another. There are times in facing these hard realities of lasting hurt when the world, and everything in it, can seem dark indeed. Even having the head-knowledge of the repercussions of a soverign, omnipotent God giving man the free will to choose - or not choose - His love, and that what is gained for sin, pain, and death is well worth the cost, my heart-reality only cries out: "What is the point, if there is some pain that cannot be redeemed? Why couldn't You, the all-powerful, all-knowing Father, have made the world some other way?" [By the way, if you don't believe in free will, it gets even worse, because then it's definitely God's fault.]
It was the other night that this head-knowledge and heart-reality were wrestling (very verbally and out-loud) with God, when from nowhere (and by nowhere, I certianly mean Somewhere) a song started playing in my head. It was a David Wilcox song I haven't listened to in years, and literally, without permission, interruped everything I could say, think or feel. Click here to open the music player. Select "David Wilcox: Show the Way" as the track as you read long with the sung words.
You say you see no hope.
You say you see no reason we should dream
That the world would ever change
You're saying love is foolish to believe.
'Cause they'll always be some crazy,
With an army, or a knife,
To wake you from your daydream,
Put the fear back in your life.
Look, if someone wrote a play
Just to glorify what's stronger than hate
Would they not arrange the stage
To look as if the hero came too late?
He's almost in defeat
It's lookin' like the evil side will win
So on the edge of every seat,
From the moment that the whole thing begins
It is Love who mixed the mortar
And it's Love who stacked these stones
And it's Love who made the stage here,
Although it looks like we're alone
In this scene, set in shadows
Like the night is here to stay
There is evil cast around us,
But it's Love that wrote the play
For in this darkness Love can show the way
... And that moment, my heart closed it's eyes, nodded slowly, and rested. Amen.
1 Comments:
Like you, I had a relatively pain-free childhood and knew nothing of suffering or sadness. I've been a "divorced kid" for 17 (!) years now, and yes we all make it out alive and go on as such... but you're right, this sort of thing never gets "resolved" neat and tidy-like. It was a profound shock to realize that things can happen from which there is and never will be a "complete" recovery -- your life is changed, there's no going back, and that change simply becomes a part of you. Come to think of it, though, the good changes happen in much the same way... and thank goodness for that, right? :-)
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