Where is a "loving" God in our Pain?

Where is a “loving” God in our Pain?

Good Day.

Where is God right now?  I mean, in light of the devastation left in the wake of a lone gunman, where can we find the God who promises he will never leave us or forsake us? 

Can we talk?  My last week has been somewhat consumed with death.  On Sunday, I flew to Reno to conduct the funeral service of my favorite aunt.  She had been sick for a while, but when death comes, there is still something shocking about it.  And then I went to see my friend on Thursday who recently went to the e.r., thinking she had a bronchial infection only to discover it was cancer.  I was so saddened to see how rapidly she had declined; and the following day, I knew she was slipping away.  Yesterday morning, she lost her battle.  Where is God?  And in times of grief, do you reach for him?

Gordon MacDonald, (a great Christian thinker and a favorite author of mine), who spent time at the World Trade Center site, immediately following Nine-Eleven, penned these thoughts about the presence of God in our pain:  “And more than once I asked myself—as everyone asks—is God here?  And I decided that he is closer to this place than any other place I’ve ever visited.  The strange irony is that, amidst this absolute catastrophe of unspeakable proportions, there is a beauty in the way human beings are acting that defies the imagination.  Everyone—underscore, everyone—is everyone else’s brother or sister.  There are no strangers among the thousands at the work site.  Everyone talks; everyone cooperates; everyone does the next thing that has to be done.  No job is too small, too humble, or, on the other hand, too large.

Tears ran freely, affection was exchanged openly, exhaustion was defied.  We all stopped caring about ourselves.  The words “it’s not about me” were never more true.

 No church service; no church sanctuary no religiously inspiring service has spoken so deeply into my soul and witnessed to the presence of God as those hours last night at the crash site.

 In all my years of Christian ministry, I never felt more alive than I felt last night . . . as much as I love preaching the Bible and all the other things that I have been privileged to do over the years, being on that street, giving cold water to workmen, praying and weeping with them, listening to their stories was the closest I have ever felt to God.  Even though it sounds melodramatic, I kept finding myself saying, “This is the place where Jesus most wants to be.”1

Have you been at a place of extreme tragedy, sadness or death?    There is a hush of holiness nearby . . . as the fragility of mortality is realized by all who are near.  I have often sat alongside a dying individual, sometimes with family members nearby, ministering to their needs – and it is true, there is a holy reverence in this most intimate time.  Despite pain, there is sweetness too.

Sometimes God uses pain for good in our lives too.  C.S. Lewis said, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains.  It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

The psalmist wrote, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”2  “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”3  These are truths you can share with those who are hurting. . . and by all means, let them know they are not alone!  The brother of our Lord wrote, “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.”4

Oh yes, God is near . . . in fact, he is much closer than you think.  He is as close as you will let him be, and he loves you completely.

1  Finding God in Unexpected Places, Philip Yancey

2  Psalm 34.18

3  Psalm 147.3

4  James 4.8