Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Really, Lord? Really?

Not long ago, I reread one of my favorite Bible verses. Then I flipped a few books back and read two more of my favorite verses. Here they are:

In John 16:33, Jesus spoke these words to his disciples not long before he was arrested and executed -
"I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."

Paul wrote this to other followers of Christ in Philippians 4:6-7 - Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Really, Lord? Really?

In you, I can have peace? I need some peace right now. Deep peace. The kind of peace Paul wrote about in Philippians, the kind of peace that transcends all understanding.

Cuz right now, I don't understand a whole lot. I don't understand why the suffering continues. I don't understand why the pain continues. I don't understand.

And I'm almost all out of peace. Any kind of peace. The deep kind and the shallow kind.

I am reminded of the scene in the movie, "The Apostle," where Robert Duvall's character is up late one night praying, praying so loudly that the neighbors call to complain about the noise. One line he repeats is one that I've been repeating a lot lately: "Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give me peace. Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give me peace."

Lord, right now, I beg of you, please: "Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give me peace."

You were certainly right when you said that in this world, we would have trouble.
So much trouble. War. Violence. Abuse.
Addiction. Disease. Mental illness.
Loss. Grief.
Crime. Injustice.
Sleepless nights worrying about any and all of the above and so much more.
Trouble that begets more trouble.

I know there are a lot of people who say, "Trouble don't last for always,"
but sometimes it feels like always, like forever.
These past eight weeks have felt like forever.
Can you please grant us peace, a break from the trouble, from the pain, from the suffering?

I know, I know. Some people, a whole lot of people have it worse than we do.
I know that's true - but this still sucks. This is still deep trouble for us.

One of my pastors recently told me about a seminary professor who talked to the class about
Psalm 13.

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," 
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

But I trust in your unfailing love,
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
for he has been good to me.

My pastor said that the professor said - that space in between verses 4 and 5, that space that you see between the words "fall" and "But" - we don't know how long it took the psalmist to get from verse 4 to verse 5. We don't know how long it took to go from almost wishing for death to trusting in God's unfailing love again.

Two weeks ago today, I preached a sermon at church called, "A Yet Praise." I based it on a passage from the third chapter of the book written by the prophet Habbakuk.

Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen 
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.

Though trouble seems to be lasting far too long,
though she struggles with opposition to her leadership,
though he struggles with temptation to be unfaithful,
though they are on the brink of divorce,
though their child was shot and killed by a madman,
though my heart breaks every day and every night watching her suffer,
even in the face of all of that,
the prophet says, "I will yet praise God."
I will find ways and reasons and means to offer "a yet praise."

I am not gonna lie - this praise thing isn't easy right now.
This "being anxious for nothing" thing is the hardest thing I've tried to do in years.
Literally in years.
This is harder than when I was dealing with kanswer.
And kanswer is hard. Kanswer sucks.

I find myself asking over and over: "Really, Lord? Really? Again? Again???"

I go back to the beginning and reread those verses and I am reminded:
"Take heart! I have overcome the world."

Really, Lord? Really?
You have overcome it all???
Violence and fear and hatred and prejudice and death and mental illness too?
You have overcome it all?

I go back and reread them again - offer thanksgiving in everything?
be anxious for nothing?

Really, Lord? Really?

Somewhere in there I get the impression that the promised peace isn't tied to the answers to my requests. In fact, there is no mention in that Philippians passage about answers. It simply tells me to present my requests - with thanksgiving. Then the transcendent peace will guard my heart and mind in you, Lord God Jesus.

Bring it on - please.
You know I have presented my requests.
I've left out the thanksgiving part a lot these days.
Gotta go back to being thankful - even in the midst of this.
Even in the darkest valley with all the shadows of death.
The death of dreams. The death of quietness and calm. The death of ease and simplicity.
The death of so much of what I had hoped for.
Even now, even here, in this terrible place - I can, I must find reasons to be thankful.

(Thank you for health insurance and doctors who listen.
Thank you for friends who talk and text and pray.
Thank you for food and water and heat and air conditioning.
Thank you for gas stations and post offices and public libraries.
Thank you for pens, colored pencils, and journals.
Thank you for eye glasses and hearing aids.
Thank you for music and movies.
Thank you for Law and Order marathons.
Thank you for seminary - the classes, my classmates, and professors.
Thank you for my bed and my pillow and my comforter.
Thank you for wine and port and pineapple martinis.
Thank you thank you thank you.)

And now I'm gonna hold you to your promise, Sweet Jesus.
Cuz you promised peace. To give peace. To be peace.
Please. Please. Please. Please.

"Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me, give me peace."

And not just to me alone.
To the one in the difficult meeting right now.
To the one in the difficult relationship.
To the one in the refugee camp.
To the one in jail.
To the one in the hospital.
To the one in the welfare hotel.
We all need your peace, Lord.
Every single one of us.
We beg. We plead. We beseech you.

Give it to us, give it to us, give it to us, give us peace.

Half an hour later - I was advised to take a few deep breaths.
To not take it all so seriously.
There is humor and joy available.
So I'm gonna avail myself of some of both of the above.
Please don't worry about me - I'm okay.
Truly I am.
All is well. All shall be well.
Breathing deeply.
Feeling better already.

1 comment:

Linda K said...

Gail, I feel your pain. Your agony. Your heartache. And I feel your frustration with God and His timing. Life is so very, very hard at times and it's during those times that I become more conflicted than ever - one minute I strive to trust in God and the next minute I revolt, because God doesn't feel nearby and I scream out "come like you promised, pour out your spirit!" (lyrics from a favorite song of mine). I pray for the peace you're seeking, we're all seeking. At times it's tangible and real and unexplainable in human terms and most definitely from God because there's nothing like it. My 24 year old son struggles with life and living. He's suffered for 10 long hard dark years with an eating disorder that wants to take his very life. During the darkest of days and hours when peace is no where to be found, I find myself praying, God your will be done, because my will, my will for my son is healing and wholeness and it just ain't happened yet, so I surrender my plans (will) to God's. But, it's not a joyful surrender. But it is surrender nonetheless. I am weak but He is strong. He will carry me through this and other dark days. He will carry you too dear sister.