Comfort in the calamity

When God doesn't give answers

I stared at the dead flowers in the trash for too long.

I knew it was coming. I had watched them die - their bright, warm hues the color of sunset turning shades of mud brown. I was the one who threw them away. But I couldn’t stop myself from the realization that this was more than a death to store-bought flowers. This death symbolized the reality of what I had seen coming for a long time.

I had seen the moment that my ideas of what I thought life would look like begin to fade.

I watched the dry brittle leaves begin to fall off. I was the one that brought it to our attention. Yet it didn’t take away the pain of watching the future I thought was a sure thing die and wither away before my eyes. Where I was once standing on solid ground, my feet now began to feel the mud slide under my feet, pulling me down to the valley of despair.

My mind swirled with questions, grasping for some comfort anywhere I could find it. Yet there was none to be found. Pain and fear surrounded me on all sides.

This was not the way things were supposed to go.

A week before the dead flowers, my Bible reading had led me to Jesus’ speech to the disciples right before He makes His one-way trip to Gethsemane.¹ I found myself taking longer to sit in these passages than usual and couldn’t figure out why - why here, why now.

Jesus begins by telling the disciples some shocking news - He had to leave them and it would be a shock to their core. Because of this, their faith would fail and they would walk away from the One they vowed their lives to follow. They would come back to Him after some time though - Jesus had faith in them. Jesus was then going to come back, but then leave again. They couldn’t come with Him to His Homeland yet, but there was still hope. Where He was going, He would prepare a place specifically for them. And He wouldn’t leave them here alone but send Someone else, the Comforter, to remind them of His teachings and continue the discipleship journey they had started.

However this information was too much for the disciples. They were confused. They were concerned. They murmured among themselves trying to see if anyone understood what Jesus was saying.

They wanted Jesus to take it all back, to say that He would spare them all this pain and confusion. They wanted answers, grasping for some comfort anywhere they could find it.

And although Jesus had the answers to all their questions, in His wisdom He recognized the difference between their wants and their needs.

A crisis was on its way. They wanted to evade it. They thought clarity would be the one thing to bring them comfort. But Jesus knew their hearts didn’t need answers; Jesus knew their hearts needed strengthening to endure the rough road ahead.

Jesus would not take away their coming pain in just the same way God would not take away His. Because by taking away their current pain, they wouldn’t be able to experience the glorious joy and hope of the resurrection. They wouldn’t know what it was like to allow something to die in order to allow God to bring lasting, abundant life to all people for all eternity. In the breaking down of the walls of what they had come to understand about life with Jesus, God was rebuilding something sturdy, stable, built to last on the foundation of His manifested love.

Asking questions in the middle of confusion is human. It’s good, even. Job asked. David asked. Jesus Himself asked. “Why?”²

Yet in every one of those honest peeks into the suffering that plagued them, God never gave detailed answers. Many times, He was silent. But always, in the various ways they needed it the most, He reminded them of His presence. “I am with you.”³

And that’s exactly what Jesus was doing. He wouldn’t leave permanently. He would be back. And when the time came for Him to go Home and prepare a room for us, they still wouldn’t be alone. The Holy Spirit would come and dwell with them, us, permanently. He would keep us and comfort us and teach us and guide us. God Himself would live and interact with us on a more consistent and personal basis.

That confirmation was what they needed in that moment. It’s what we all need in our moment of distress.

And there I was, a week later, standing in the middle of my very own moment of distress.⁴ My head demanded answers. I wanted to run and beg that God would take it away so I wouldn’t have to endure what I knew would come with this trouble. Yet in reminding me of what He had been showing me in Scripture, God reminded me what my heart really needed: His presence.

He would be with me. He wouldn’t abandon me in the middle of my darkest night. He would gently and compassionately bind up my wounds while simultaneously working out the resurrection we needed. While my hurting heart cried out, His love whispered, “I won’t leave you.” I could find clarity in the comfort He was offering to me. God is my answer; His abiding love is enough.

Piano playing with daddy while he takes a break from working on cars

Garry walks through the door, a bouquet of white roses in his hand to replace the dead ones in the trash. I thanked him for his kindness, but I didn’t put too much thought into this gift. Yet as I placed them in their vase something pulled at me to look up what they symbolized:

New beginnings.

I liked what I had. I was comfortable in that place. But it wasn’t the best of what God had in mind for me. I didn’t see it before, but I can trust in His hand now. God had redemption in store, a way to shine His glory through my weakness. My dream had to die in order for there to be a new beginning. As Psalm 130:7 tells us, “Let Israel hope in the Lord: For with the Lord there is mercy, And with him is plenteous redemption.” His redeeming hand is full of goodness for me, for us. And it was open to pour it all out on our broken hearts.

He wouldn’t take away the pain that clouded my soul. But this Google search was just another way of proving what my heart already felt:

He would be there with me through it all.

These roses have become our own ebenezer, the reminder of what God has done and is doing in us

“No one person can fulfill all your needs. But the community can truly hold you. The community can let you experience the fact that, beyond your anguish, there are human hands that hold you and show you God’s faithful love.”

Henri J. M. Nouwen

the miscellany

All the random things that have been bringing us joy:

• something we’re reading: For Mindy: Even If He Doesn’t by Kristen LaValley; For Garry: Some Things I Have Learned by Wayne Sehmish; For the kids: The Wonder of Creation by Louie Giglio for their nightly devotions

• something we’re using: I’ve officially entered my plant mom era so my house is slowly turning into an indoor jungle. I came across a company on Instagram that sells drops you add to your water that helps with growth (and my poor plants need all the help they can get). They’re based in the US, but I found a similar company here in Australia! My plant babies are loving the Grow Concentrate Plant Food and the Neem Oil Spray.

• something we’re making: I know everyone says their chocolate chip cookie recipe is the best, but this one really is! I made them twice this month and have no regrets!

1. John 13 and 14, to be exact.

2. Job 3:11, Psalm 22:1, Matthew 27:46

3. To Job, God dialogued over the questions his pain raised and in the end abundantly returned all he had lost (Job 38-42); To David, God reminded him that He is with the afflicted and hears their cries (Psalm 22:24); Through Jesus, God showed us that His power brings ultimate victory over death (Acts 2:14-36)

4. At the time of writing this, we were experiencing some hardship. At the time of posting this, we are experiencing His hand of redemption. No need for concerned messages, fam - we’re all good!