Our God of Grief

Scripture includes an interesting (and somewhat disturbing) verse I’ve always wondered about: “Though [the Lord] brings grief, he also shows compassion because of the greatness of his unfailing love.”  (Lamentations 3:32)

Most of us think of God as a grief-healer, not a grief-bringer. People have said to me, “The heartaches you’re experiencing have all filtered through God’s loving fingers.”

GrievingI can’t say those words have ever brought comfort, though they have spoken the truth. But that verse from Lamentations goes one step further than admitting our grieving comes to us filtered through God’s hands. It says that he sometimes brings it.

This is tough to swallow. Why would God do that? Why would he initiate grief?

Maybe the answer is in the second half of the verse where it says he shows compassion and has unfailing love toward us. The experience of grief feels more like being set out in the cold than being covered with compassion, but maybe God’s version of compassion somehow includes grief.

In the deepest part of my grieving for Nate, the tears and deep sobs that came out of me that first dark winter were, in a way, a strange kind of relief from the constant heartache. I’ve said many times in these blog posts that Nate never told me not to cry, because he believed each new cry let some of the sadness out.

I’ve heard the same thing from others since then, and I firmly believe it. During my first winter without Nate, I’d walk Jack around the neighborhood late at night and bawl almost uncontrollably. And 40 minutes later as we walked back into the house, me with mascara running and eyes swollen, I felt slightly better.

Maybe the Lamentations verse is trying to teach us that the whole process of grieving is God’s pressure valve for our hearts. Without experiencing the heartache, tears, sobbing, and moaning, we’d be so bottled up inside we’d practically burst. And thus the “unfailing love” part makes sense.

We get additional clues in the next verse: “[The Lord] does not enjoy hurting people or causing them sorrow.” The NIV says he doesn’t “willingly bring grief to anyone.” In other words, God wasn’t the one who willingly brought death, injury, disease, and dysfunction of all kinds into our world.

His original desire was that nothing about our lives would cause grief. But then sin entered, and all of the above grief-causers came with it. He needed a way to help us through, and the grieving process as we know it, is it.

I don’t think there’s any other way to interpret those two verses, because I truly believe God when he says he loves with unfailing love.

“Let the one who walks in the dark, who has no light, trust in the name of the LORD and rely on their God.” (Isa. 50:10)

 

Exactly Right

Once in a while Emerald comes upstairs to my room for a bit of play time, so I cleared out a bottom drawer and loaded it with toys she gets to play with only when she’s “visiting” me.

A drawer for EmeraldAlthough she loves the dozen or so items in the drawer, it isn’t long before she’s looking up at whatever I’m doing (with the hair dryer, a pen and paper, the computer), wanting to play with those instead. I could let her have her way, but I don’t, since she’d probably ruin those things.

When I tell her “no”, she gets frustrated and sometimes objects loudly. Of course she doesn’t understand, but I’m confident my reasoning is better than hers. So I try to re-interest her in “her” drawer, hoping she’ll be satisfied with toys appropriate to her age and abilities.

Maybe it’s oversimplification, but I think God hopes for something similar in his dealings with us. Though he showers daily blessings on all of us, they’re not the same for everyone. When I first set up Emerald’s drawer, I put some thought into which items I would include and chose only what I knew she’d love: books, stuffed animals, keys, costume jewelry.

The Lord knows (much better than we do) what will satisfy us. He chooses flawlessly and gives these gifts to us, then waits for a response of gratitude. But often we turn from those things and want what we can’t have, things he knows we aren’t capable of handling well. And it isn’t just material things.

We get frustrated when we can’t have certain talents or physical characteristics or opportunities. We see others who’ve been given these things and judge them to have better blessings than we do. Worse than that, we get upset if we can’t control our lives, our futures, in a way that belongs only to God. Then when we express annoyance with what he’s “put in our drawer,” we become a disappointment to him.

The perfect choicesAs Emerald plays downstairs with other toys, I watch her to see if something new or different might be a nice addition to her upstairs drawer, because it’s satisfying to see her play happily with the toys I’ve put in there. And maybe God finds the same deep satisfaction if he sees us enjoying the specific blessings he’s chosen for us. But if we’re always wanting something more or something different, we become a disappoint to him.

Although 13 month old Emerald has no understanding of disappointing me, I’m old enough to know better than to be greedy for more, or ungrateful for what I’ve already been given. And a good place to start breaking myself of such childish behavior is to thank him liberally for everything that he’s already put “into my drawer.”

“Let each person lead the life that the Lord has assigned to him, and to which God has called him.” (1 Corinthians 7:17)

To Win Favor

In yesterday’s blog we watched one-year-old Emerald successfully learn to polish window glass by imitating her Aunt Louisa. There’s a certain amount of pressure in knowing young children are watching us carefully, wanting to do what we do. It serves us well, though, since the result is a desire to live “cleaner” in front of them.

Setting the TableI think of my granddaughter Skylar who was all into imitating her mommy the last time I visited her in Florida. Although she knew she couldn’t do everything her mother did with the same expertise, she could set the table for dinner, which was what she did.

Yesterday we wondered if we could imitate Jesus (our example) in the same simple way. Is such a thing possible? Or is it so far out of reach we shouldn’t even to try?

When I asked God for his answer, he reminded me of Jesus’ humanity. “Human…. just like you,” he said, “so yes, try to imitate him.”

The only thing to do was “watch” the life of Jesus to see what I could  imitate. Maybe it would be as simple as wiping a window or setting a table.

Here’s what I found:

  • He spent time studying Scripture, memorizing much it.
  • He separated himself from the pack of people continually following him, to carve out prayer time.
  • He lived simply, denying himself the creature comforts of his day.
  • He followed through on commitments.
  • He didn’t try to control people but asked questions, listening attentively for the answers.
  • He was willing to take risks with the establishment if it meant he could testify for God’s kingdom.
  • He humbled himself before others.
  • He never chafed under the burden of being an example to watching eyes.
  • He was quick to forgive.
  • He kept himself from complaining, even when he had reason to do so.
  • He endured hardship with patience.
  • He tolerated hunger.
  • He obediently stepped into God’s assignments for him, even tough ones.
  • He proactively resisted all kinds of temptation.
  • He accepted God’s call on his life.

Those are 15 straightforward ways any of us can imitate Jesus’ example. And if it would be easier to operate by one underlying principle that applies in every situation, he gives us that, too. He made decisions and successfully moved through his complicated life by using one Golden Standard to apply in every questionable situation:

Would he find favor with God?

Emerald and Skylar wanted to find favor with an aunt and a mommy, imitating them as their way to get it. The human Jesus wanted the same from his heavenly Father. And as the rest of us seek God’s favor by imitating Jesus, we too will find it.

“The one who says he abides in Him ought himself to walk in the same manner as He walked.” (1 John 2:6)