“For the Lord will not cast off forever,
Though He causes grief,
Yet He will show compassion
According to the multitudes of His mercies.
For He does not afflict, nor grieve willingly,
the children of men.”
Lam. 3: 31-33
This scripture bears the indentations of my fingernails. It has teethmarks where I have bitten down upon it in the middle of more pain than I thought I could bear.
He does not afflict nor grieve willingly.
I know I’ve said it before, but oh how I need to hear it again. He does not delight in our pain. Though it is sometimes (even often!) rendered by His own hand, He does not gloat, He does not relish, He does not glory in pain for pain’s sake.
Here’s the truth: sometimes the shrapnel of past wars is lodged so deeply in our hearts that they must be broken open again in order to repair the damage. The probing pierces, the scalpel digs deeply, He is searching our hearts, He is purifying, He is cleansing…He is at work to bring healing.
And I gasp and struggle and scream and kick and sob for Him to stop…just stop…I didn’t mean it, I don’t want the healing if it comes at such a price. Don’t touch those areas; don’t mess with my mess…I had it all swept neatly into a box and buried it deep, oh how deeply I dug to bury those hurts.
But He knows I did mean it. I do mean it. I want to be whole. I want to be healed. And so I lay in the palm of His hand: spent, exhausted, and drained. He works swiftly. So much easier when I am still. When I am still and quiet I can hear the song He is singing. Through His own tears that wash the infection away, He sings a love song. A joyful song. A song of reparation and redemption and promise.
The pain has purpose. So He promises. And so I trust.
(((((((Jenni)))))))
~tears~
You teach me.
Jenni, this took my breath away. What a beautiful, and true, post. You write what I’m feeling like no one else I know.
I love this. Beautiful. And I needed to hear this. Grappling with where I am in my life right now and some of the circumstances I’ve created for myself. I’ve been thinking of asking Him to show me what I need to be learning in this hole I’m in. What do I need to hear? But I’m scared to do it, because I’m scared of what He’s going to show me. I know it’s ugly and I’d rather play ostrich.
*deep sigh*
Beautiful, Jenni.
Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Thank you.
I know this is so true, but I could never have expressed it as beautifully as you just did.
I love your writing, Jenni. And you. You never cease to amaze me.
The only thing that could possibly make this more meaningful to your readers is if they could have heard your tear-filled voice speaking these words to me the other day.Then again, seeing them printed out is somehow even more poignant. You are a blessing, and ARE blessed.
no…not willingly…sigh…
I was pointed in your direction by Ann and I am so grateful for this post. I am walking through a dark pain-filled valley at this moment and your words are a balm for my soul and my aching heart. I am grateful for your words and to have been led to this blog at this particular time. My husband preached a sermon today from Zeph. and focused in part on the verse that talks about God singing over us. I was struck by that thought and here it is again in your post.I have gone back and read through some of your pasts posts. I appreciate your honesty and I will be back to “catch up” and to “keep up” with the wonderful truths that you share so beautifully. Thanks. Your words were timely for me this day. Blessings!