I just returned home from another hospital call. This has been such a crazy month, receiving hospital and hotline calls almost every time I am on call. (For those of you who don’t know, I volunteer as a rape crisis counselor, which involves answering hotline phone calls* or going to emergency rooms when new clients arrive.) This is not the appropriate venue in which to process this or any other call. I love this work. I am privileged to be part of this. And yet the suffering is so incredible. The pain is so deep. I know it may seem like Christianity 101, but I still wrestle with reconciling the goodness of God and the brokenness of the world. There are days when the edge of the hospital bed from which I am trying to give comfort feels more real than everything I learned in Bible classes growing up.
AND YET. And yet. I have lately been learning so much about the love of God. Not a nebulous, theoretical concept of love, but the real, constant, freeing love that God has for me, and for you. And it’s all nice and good to experience that love in the quiet safety of my living room, with a journal in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Those are moments when I know God’s love as gentle and intimate. But on days like today, God’s love becomes strong, unflinching in the face of the forces trying to wreck our lives and steal our joy. I believe God loves us so much that he cries and grieves for the pain we endure. I admit that I wish he would swoop in and save us from experiencing that pain in the first place. I don’t understand some things. But I am grateful for his sustaining love, and one day maybe I will understand more fully.
This song has gotten me through some very tough moments, including parts of today. It’s a quiet plea to God from a man who lost his daughter. It’s an acknowledgment of things we don’t understand. And it’s a reminder that there is still hope. And I hope it encourages you today.
*Have you or someone you loved experienced sexual assault? There are so many places to which you can go for help (if you feel like you’re ready for that). If you want more information on resources, please let me know! This was not your fault. And there is hope.