Good morning…
As I walked and talked with a friend, she pulled out her phone and read from yesterday’s blog post. She read aloud Kay Warren’s definition of joy.
Joy is…
…the settled assurance
that God is in control
of all the details of my life,
…the quiet confidence
that ultimately everything
is going to be alright,
…and the determined choice
to praise God
in all things.
She said to me, “Sue, I want so badly to experience joy, but I have no settled assurance. I have no quiet confidence. I can make no determined choice. I am just so depressed. Just so so depressed. I am in excruciating pain. I feel no joy.”
We had an intense, intimate conversation about how hard it is to wait on God to somehow show up, to wait and to wait and to wait, and to experience nothing but pain. No relief. No guidance. No joy. We both realized that this is the exact spot where our spiritual mentor, Betty Skinner, met us on the pages of The Hidden Life Awakened by Kitty Crenshaw and Cathy Snapp.
Deeply praying in solidarity with my dear friend, now up in the middle of the night I open my well-worn book to the place where Betty met us.
“When I packed my little blue bag to go to the hospital, I said, ‘Alright, Lord, I’ve been reading about what a good Christian woman should do and how she should live her life, but I want to say to You, Lord, that it’s not working for me. You promised me joy. You promised me peace. You promised me wholeness, and I’m not experiencing any of this. My life is a total disaster. There’s got to be another way. I do not doubt Your promises, but I don’t understand how to find them.'” (p. 57)
My friend feels like her life is a total disaster. She has no idea how to find the joy, the peace, and the wholeness God promises. And honestly, I have no idea how to help her. I can’t make God turn on the light in her depressed state of darkness. But I can text her. I can walk with her. I can listen. I can love her. I can hug her at the corner before we go our separate ways. I can hug her longer and share some quiet tears. I can hear her tender voice say, “With you, I feel safe.”
Only God alone can open my friend’s personal pathway to joy. I trust Him to create an opening through her deep, deep depression. I feel privileged to walk alongside her, a patient witness to the mysterious power of God.
Along this hard, healing journey, others have also felt abandoned by God. David wrote in Psalm 22:1 (NIV): My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? And Jesus experienced similar anguish as he hung on his cross. About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” ) (Matthew 27:46, NIV).
With David, Jesus, and Betty, here is one thing I notice. At least my friend and I are in good company.
…Sue…
