Silas
Beloved of All
I hear the weight you’re carrying, and it truly is overwhelming. When grief piles up in every direction, your sister in hospice, your cat and dog so ill, the strain in your marriage, it’s no wonder you’re exhausted from crying and feel completely lost. Even David in the Psalms cried out, “My eye is consumed with grief,” and described his soul aching. Pain has a way of stretching time until it seems you’ve never had a good day. So let me say this plainly: your tears are not a sign of weak faith, but of a heart that loves deeply. And that is not wrong.
But here is where hope begins. In the story of Elijah, God sent him to a widow who had nothing, just a handful of flour and a little oil, preparing for her last meal with her son. Yet Elijah told her, “Don’t be afraid. First, make me a small cake.” He was asking her to put God first, even in her desperation. And when she did, the jar of flour and the jug of oil never ran out. God took care of her. But then, as the passage goes, that same son fell so ill he stopped breathing. Grief returned, sharper than ever. God used even that to display His power and deepen her trust. So the pattern is this: when we give God the first place, not as a bargain, but out of dependence, He provides. And when sorrows still come, He remains present, working something we cannot yet see.
Right now, you have too many burdens to manage alone. And you were never meant to. David is a good example here. When Nabal insulted him, David strapped on his sword to avenge himself. But he was stopped by a wise woman, and he chose to let the Lord handle it. Later he said, “Blessed be the Lord, who has pleaded my cause.” Then with Saul, who was hunting him down, David refused to lift his hand, saying, “God will take care of him.” He learned to commit the whole mess into God’s hands, trusting that God’s timing and justice are better than his own. That is the place where your soul can finally rest: when you can look at your sister, your pets, your husband, and your own breaking heart, and pray, “Lord, You take care of it. I’m placing it all in Your hands.”
Grief will tempt you to torment yourself with “if onlys” or to make rash statements like Job did in his pain. Job’s friends sat silent for seven days because his agony was so great, but then Job spoke words out of his anguish that were not true about God. Pain can twist your perspective and make you feel abandoned. Anchor yourself instead on what is solid. God’s love for you does not waver. His promise never to leave you is sure. And He can take the chisels of suffering and grief and carve something beautiful in your character, something that reflects Jesus more clearly.
Remember, getting emotional over God, crying out to Him honestly, is healthy. But building your life on the truth of His word is even more important than powerful feelings. So seek Him first. Not as a quick fix, but because He is your life. The young lions may grow weak and hungry, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing. You are not forgotten. I am praying that in the middle of this flood, you will sense His presence carrying you, and that a peace beyond your understanding will begin to guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus.
But here is where hope begins. In the story of Elijah, God sent him to a widow who had nothing, just a handful of flour and a little oil, preparing for her last meal with her son. Yet Elijah told her, “Don’t be afraid. First, make me a small cake.” He was asking her to put God first, even in her desperation. And when she did, the jar of flour and the jug of oil never ran out. God took care of her. But then, as the passage goes, that same son fell so ill he stopped breathing. Grief returned, sharper than ever. God used even that to display His power and deepen her trust. So the pattern is this: when we give God the first place, not as a bargain, but out of dependence, He provides. And when sorrows still come, He remains present, working something we cannot yet see.
Right now, you have too many burdens to manage alone. And you were never meant to. David is a good example here. When Nabal insulted him, David strapped on his sword to avenge himself. But he was stopped by a wise woman, and he chose to let the Lord handle it. Later he said, “Blessed be the Lord, who has pleaded my cause.” Then with Saul, who was hunting him down, David refused to lift his hand, saying, “God will take care of him.” He learned to commit the whole mess into God’s hands, trusting that God’s timing and justice are better than his own. That is the place where your soul can finally rest: when you can look at your sister, your pets, your husband, and your own breaking heart, and pray, “Lord, You take care of it. I’m placing it all in Your hands.”
Grief will tempt you to torment yourself with “if onlys” or to make rash statements like Job did in his pain. Job’s friends sat silent for seven days because his agony was so great, but then Job spoke words out of his anguish that were not true about God. Pain can twist your perspective and make you feel abandoned. Anchor yourself instead on what is solid. God’s love for you does not waver. His promise never to leave you is sure. And He can take the chisels of suffering and grief and carve something beautiful in your character, something that reflects Jesus more clearly.
Remember, getting emotional over God, crying out to Him honestly, is healthy. But building your life on the truth of His word is even more important than powerful feelings. So seek Him first. Not as a quick fix, but because He is your life. The young lions may grow weak and hungry, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing. You are not forgotten. I am praying that in the middle of this flood, you will sense His presence carrying you, and that a peace beyond your understanding will begin to guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus.
