I sat in the cold, blank hospital room and talked with my sweet friends, an elderly couple. I had visited them before in their warm, cozy home. The man had chronic pain since I’d known them, in his back and in his heart. His heart because he lost his only daughter at a young age in a car accident, maybe over 30 years ago now. My mind wandered, searching for something to talk about as I noted the empty room, comparing it in my mind to the walls in their home cluttered with pictures of their dear, gone daughter. As if reading my mind, he tells me that he thinks of her every day and feels the loss every day. He made sure I knew, “His faith has got him through.”
His roommate, the man I had awkwardly turned my back to upon entering the room, interrupted. He raised his voice as if he longed to yell it but couldn’t, “That’s right…his grace was sufficient for you!”
I had wanted to give him privacy but he turned it down now without hesitation and, instead, joined us in this wrestling with God. He was bold and unapologetic in his faith. He demanded God’s glory. When asked what he wanted prayer for he didn’t ask for healing of his body, he asked that we all would have eyes of faith, trusting that God is working all things together for our good and His glory.
He was seeing with eternal eyes. He wanted us to see with eternal eyes.
The stranger turned brother in Christ who spoke with courage into broken lives was right, but…
I was moved to say to him, my friends, and myself that it is OK to groan a bit under this; groan a lot, actually. And to let others groan because…
“We know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.”
Romans 8:22-25
Isn’t this part of being in a fallen world; to groan as we hope with great patience for eternity?
I am reminded of the girl at work who lost her hair and part of her scalp in a machine. Her blood ran all around me. We thought she would die. I held her hand and prayed. I asked my then-pastor later that night, “Why did God allow this and where is God? The girl miraculously survived, but at the time, I doubted that she would. I pounded my fist on the table. My heart ached with my own life losses and so, hiding a bit behind this tragedy I asked, “Where has God been throughout thousands of years when people have endured tragedies like this and worse?”
His words were simple and ring true to this day, “He is saving us from this.”
To many, His words might seem a bit too much like a Christian cliche. For me, they are words I’ve held onto now for years, coming back to them in the midst of sorrows since. They help me press on, clinging to eternal truths that are deeper than circumstances.
Isn’t that how Jesus did it? He thought eternally. He looked at things with an eternal worldview.
“… let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.”
Hebrews 12:1-3
For the joy set before Him.
For the future of us and Himself…eternal life with us…His people made whole and holy…He endured hostility, violence, evil and death Himself.
Even Christ, knowing the joy set before Him, had to endure.
I don’t really know the answer to the WHY’s of life’s tragedies, but I accept that we are in this stage still where God is rescuing us. If we are being rescued, that means we are facing grave dangers. He is redeeming us and the world because He knows all too well of the tragedies of our existence: disease, death and sin.
It’s recorded in John chapter eleven that Jesus’ friend, Lazarus, died. Even though Jesus knew He’d be raising him from the dead, Jesus still wept. Though He knew the future for Lazarus, He was still moved to tears.
My husband recently told me that that the Greek word translated “wept” has a sense of anger—of nostrils flaring like a horse’s nostrils. Part of Jesus’s response was his hatred toward death itself and its intrusion into the very creation that He Himself ruled over.
Could you imagine that? Jesus weeping, not with just a wimpy unfeeling tear rolling down his cheek, but perhaps more like us in our deepest losses. It seems they were the sort of tears that might come along with the pounding of fists. Not helpless fists like ours, but fists that would, one day, be nailed down to a tree in order to save us from the very thing He is weeping over.
Perhaps this is what I need right now as I watch and hear of more people suffering:
A friend of my husband’s who died from Covid as the rest of us look with hope toward a return to normal…A young girl I know who has been tossed around too many times for any human to endure…A dear sister in Christ suffering the reality of cancer stealing her life little by little…and many others.
Perhaps this is what I need to do right now, look to Him and know that He identifies Himself with us and our grief in the world. Yes, we should move toward eternal thinking and even thank Him for our eternal hope, but we should also remember that it’s alright and proper to groan because this isn’t the way it was supposed to be. We can remember that He is familiar with our sufferings, weeps over them, has taken action and is taking action. He is rescuing us from our bodies of sin and death.
To know that He is groaning as He intercedes for us, this gives me comfort.
“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:26-28).
We are so inundated by images and stories of evil, sorrow, and death each day. Do you, sometimes, become desensitized to it? Do you even react to it with cynicism about the future? Do you stop to weep and pray? Do you imagine how Jesus might respond? While it’s right to see things with an eternal worldview, it’s also proper to be grieved.
Join me this week in asking, “Am I weeping with the Savior for our groaning world?”
Linking up with these lovely bloggers in the next week:
Oh, Amy, these are such precious thoughts this week. I have been feeling that groaning too, and offering my weeping to Him. What a comfort to remember that even now He is interceding for us, and He is rescuing us from this world. Thank you for the encouragement to keep our hearts open to Him. Blessings to you.
Thanks for the visit, Bettie! I loved your recent “Bloodred” poem on the blog today. I forgot to mention that when I left a comment. I know you’re feeling that groaning. I pray you and your husband will continue to be comforted by these kinds of truths.
I pray that I never become desensitized. As much as it pains us, it is comforting to remember Jesus Himself intercedes for us. May our hearts always be moved with what moves Him.
Thanks for visiting, Joanne. With the Holy Spirit’s help, we can trust our hearts will be moved with what moves Him.
Amy, this is such a beautiful—and convicting—post. There is truly so much heartache in the world right now, and in our lives. I sometimes struggle to view the pain as Jesus does and to weep over it. Thank you for the reminder that this is important. It keeps our hearts soft toward Jesus and toward creation.
Thanks, Jeanne! That would be a great thing for me to pray for – for a soft heart toward Jesus and His creation!
Comfort and grace is what we need to receive and give in these times. I absolutely loved your reflection, especially the insight into Jesus’ weeping. I’m always afraid that we portray Jesus to be a wimp, rather than a strong character who experienced our humanness with all its emotions.
Visiting you from Inspire Me Monday. Will be back for more.
I agree, Corinne! I’d love to see a movie with Jesus portrayed in a way that is much stronger than what we typically see! Thanks for visiting!
Oh, I want to see with eternal eyes, the eyes of Christ. There is much to grieve … and so much hope and mercy to share with a world gone crazy.
Hi Linda–thanks for stopping by!
Thank you for this! “he is saving us from this.”
Thanks for visiting, Christina!
Yes indeed! To remember that Jesus is with us, weeping and groaning for us–what a help, especially in these days. Thank you for this beautiful—and challenging—reminder.
And thanks so much for joining the Grace at Home party at Imparting Grace. I’m featuring you this week!
Richella–thanks so much for featuring this! I’ve had some distractions from blogging over the past week! I appreciate your link-up and your note!