Sadness Moved In

At noon today, I was sitting in the sun.  A soft breeze kissed my hair and ruffled the trees, sending down leaves like confetti.  I was feeling thankful for cell phone technology that was allowing me to chat with my dear friend in Cape Town, South Africa.  My morning had been productive—a few errands and a meeting with our builder.  My belly was full of the Organic Southwestern soup I had consumed whilst talking with Di.  My mind was full of friends and house plans and my heart was full of thanks for this near-perfect day.

Sounds lovely doesn’t it?

Well, it all turned rather dark in a hurry.

Here's what I hate: Sadness moved in.

A shadow spread suddenly, forebodingly over my day. (No, it has nothing to do with the possible Government shut-down, although, that can bring a fair amount of anxiety.)

It entered in the eyes of a friend.  Her greeting was barely there—eyes clouded, shoulders drooping.  I could tell she was overwhelmed with responsibilities, but those every day jobs were even heavier as she was also carrying the sorrow of some devastating news.

A young boy in our community died unexpectedly.  He was only 18—A freshman in college—his whole life ahead of him…  Our entire neighborhood is reeling from the shock and devastation this poor family is facing. 

Another (more minor) dark cloud joined the first when my fifth grader got in the car and quickly confessed her bad grade on a major math test.  This math cloud grew throughout the evening as I attempted to help her with her homework.  I stared at one question feeling like I was trying to read Greek.  I felt like an idiot not being able to do 5^th grade math.  My eyes crossed. 

A whispered prayer.

A FaceBook shout.

A text to Bill at work.

Encouraging words.

Encouraging Spirit.

Homework figured out.

I gulped back tears as I thought of a certain boy’s mom who would do anything to sit next to him and help him with math. 

The depressing shadow remains tonight.  My heart is heavy for those who have lost loved ones…including my sweet husband and his siblings who are missing their daddy. 

My throat closes, my eyes blur with tears for them all. 

So much sadness. 

So much hurt. 

So much disappointment. 

So many burdens. 

My encouraging nature wants to bring cheer.  I begin to think of heartening words.  I whisper-cry prayers asking for comfort.  I finally, furrow my brows and weep the question:

“Why???”

Why the sadness?

Why the distress?

Why the heartache?

Why the shadows?

Why the death?

I want to ignore the questions, actually. 

The answer is always God.

But that’s too simple and too hard—too annoying, yet too true.

In my attempt to think of cheering words for my sister-in-law and others who are sad, I realize that I am trying to give them my hand and pull them up.  With pure motives, I want to lift them and boost their spirits.

But, perhaps I should sit in the shadow.

Perhaps I should mingle my tears with theirs.

Perhaps I should walk along side them and feel the sadness.  Let it sink in.

Perhaps I should give a hug instead of a hand.

Then, as we feel the sadness together, and cry in the shadow, we meet someone walking along side us both.  Jesus carries our grief.  He also knows exactly how we are feeling.  God alone lifts us up out of the shadow.  Only He can restore our souls after they’ve been ravished by death and grief and pain. 

I can’t do math.  I can’t cheer myself, let alone my friend or all my neighbors. 

But, Jesus walks with us.  And God can lift us up. 

One day, answers will abound and joy will reign.  Forever.

For now, we walk in the shadow—only moving, living, carrying on by God’s grace and strength and comfort.  

Here's what I love: He is real!