By Julie Wright
“As a woman …writhes and cries out in her pain,
so were we in your presence, O Lord. ” Isaiah 26:17
Do you ever feel like you are just barely hanging on?
Barely able to feel anything?
Like you are just existing in this space and time, but you are not sure how?
The days seem to just flit by like a little butterfly drifting through a gentle breeze?
Then it happens, you start to cry.
You start to remember.
You start to wish for just one more conversation. One more kiss. One more…of anything.
The “space” just seems to envelop you and you just don’t know what to do.
God seems far away. Cruel even. You know better. Your mind tells you that God is near. That He does care, but you heart just aches with too much disbelief.
It feels like God is NOWHERE.
That a God who is suppose to be loving, kind and gentle would never allow such pain, heartache and sorrow to be a part of our lives. A God who has experienced great loss through His own son, Jesus, certainly would want to keep us from such grief. Right?
Then, just as easily as I allow Satan to take hold of my thoughts, my longings for the future and my sorrow, God appears. In the space…
A simple space can change your whole perspective.
God is NOWHERE.
God is NOW HERE.
Exact same letters, but the space is moved. God is in the space.
Through my tears of the approaching three year anniversary, I saw God in my space. Through those “God-incidences” that happen when you least expect it. (Those coincidences that you know in your heart could only be from above.)
Our son started high school this week. I was angry at God for taking his daddy from him so he couldn’t see him walk confidently on campus. Mad that he was missing his son’s first football try-out and practices. Mad that I’m the one left here raising a boy who looks exactly like his father. Feeling that God is NOWHERE around us…He would never let me do all these things on my own. What child wouldn’t want his daddy here to watch him run across the field? What child wouldn’t want his daddy here to talk about all the “manly” changes that so quickly appeared this summer?
It’s cruel. It’s harsh. It’s hard. It’s reality.
Our son is playing freshman football; a sport that his grandpa played at Virginia Tech. His practice jersey was handed out at the start of practice and as I scanned the field during the remaining minutes of the afternoon, tears welled in my eyes.
God-incidence number one: My son’s jersey number is the same as his grandfather’s.
I couldn’t wait to tell him. My son just smiled and said, “Yep, I could feel daddy and grandpa pushing me on today. It was a tough practice. Isn’t it funny how God works like that mom? Its super cool I got grandpa’s number too! How crazy is that?”
We arrived home to hear the giggles of my daughter as she shared stories of her first day at a new school and ride on the bus. My heart was wishing her daddy was here to see her all proud and confident. Her bubbly personality is all from him. As we asked her about the new campus and if she made any new friends, she triumphantly replied, “I had a blast. I made a friend on the bus. She was in my class and I got to sit with her. It was a great day. They even have two sunflowers growing right outside my teacher’s window. They made me smile and think of daddy and grandpa.” God-incidence number two.
So, as the anniversary date approaches and it feels as if God is nowhere in those flashbacks, memories and what could have been, I’m grateful that in small, but meaningful ways, He gently reminds me that He is there.
In the space.
The space that I sometimes shift in my anger, sorrow and grief.
In the space of our new beginnings and new chapters without daddy and grandpa. In the space of our hearts where the holes will always exist this side of heaven.
He is there. Waiting to hold us, comfort us and carry us through because He is “now here.” Just like He has always been. In the space.
I’m praying you feel Him close to you in your space as well. And if you don’t today, know that it is okay…the nowhere will turn into now here when you least expect it.
Even on those long, difficult days and anniversaries, He is in the space.
Watch for Him.