From Ann Voskamp: Three Things to Hold Onto When Life Hurts
Category: trials
Wise advice
A post from Ann Voskamp for all of you who are having “bad days”: “For the Days that Seem to be Going Bad.”
A place of comfort
A homily on yesterday’s gospel (John 6:16-21) by Fr. Ken McKenna on Jesus coming to the disciples in the storm. A great followup to my talk last Monday at Witnesses to Hope. Click here. (It’s only about 10 minutes long.)
(You can find more of Fr. Ken’s excellent homilies by going to the “Talks” tab above and clicking on “Other Talks”. Then scroll down.)
Thick clouds
Ps 18: 9-11 He bowed the heavens, and came down; thick darkness was under his feet. He rode on a cherub, and flew; he came swiftly upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness his covering around him, his canopy thick clouds dark with water.
“I found great comfort one day in these verses. It was when God was flying upon the wings of the wind to the relief of His servant, that His servant looking up, saw thick clouds of the skies. The pavilion of the Lord is not always a golden glory, such as our sunrises so often open before us. It is sometimes darkness. He made darkness His secret place; His pavilion round about Him dark waters, thick clouds of the skies.
“You will wonder where the comfort came in. Quite simply: long ago we chose Mary’s favorite place—‘Mary . . . sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard His word.’ If we, who would always abide there, find ourselves at any time wrapped in darkness, it is only because we are in the cloud that is under His feet, for it is written, ‘darkness was under His feet’, and ‘the clouds are the dust of His feet’ [Nahum 1.3].” (Amy Carmichael, Edges of His Ways)
“Hope in the Midst of the Storms of Life”
The recording and handouts for the “Hope in the Midst of the Storms of Life” talk are now uploaded. Go to the “Talks” tab above and click on “Witnesses to Hope talks.”
“How are you doing?”
Yesterday was the sixth anniversary of my brother Tim’s death. He would have been 60 this year. As many of you know, he took his own life and the impact on all of us who loved him was devastating. What I want to share here is a set of e-mails between me and my spiritual director from three years ago at this time of year. Fr. Dan, remembering that Tim’s anniversary was coming up, had sent me a short e-mail, simply asking “How are you doing?” My response is very frank. I share this with you for a few reasons.
One: it means so much for people to remember, to remember anniversaries. Every year since she found out, a friend always shows up on my brother’s anniversary with a plant. I, of course, do not expect her to do that every year for the rest of my life, but she obviously knows enough about the pain of a suicide to know how much this touches me. Just saying those four words: “How are you doing?” can make a world of differences. Even if my answer is “I’m really doing fine,” I am still so touched that you have remembered.
Two: Losing someone to suicide is a grief that never goes away and is very paimnful for years. It is unlike any other grief.
Three: I hope that both my frankness and my sharing of how God meets me in my pain and Fr. Dan’s response to me may bring hope to someone out there who may be struggling in a similar way. . .
(I am editing some of this.)
Dear Fr. Dan,
How am I doing? It really depends these days on when you ask. But, if you have the time, I am going to try to verbalize a few things. I am suffering. I am suffering most acutely from Tim’s death, but also the many other losses in my life: at the end of my first of college: the tragic death in a car crash of a very close friend; my parent’s divorce and subsequent disintegration of my family; my brother Paul’s death in a car accident at the age of 24; my mother’s death; Tim’s violent death. They all kind of rush in upon me sometimes. . . . Some days I want to run away. Some days I just want to shout out: “My brother put a gun in his mouth and killed himself!” Most days I don’t even know how to pray. I get irritated by stupid questions people ask me about things. And I have to keep leading us [as Superior of our order] and making decisions and answering stupid questions with love and kindness. I feel alone and afraid a lot. Friends I have depended on are not there as they were. I could cry at the slightest kindness shown me.
And yet in the midst of the suffering, there’s a desire to offer it up, to kiss this Hand from whom it all comes. . . . There’s also a slight hope that I will come to know Christ and His love through it in a way that I would never know otherwise. There are pinpoints of light. Last night as I was going to sleep and dealing with fear and pain, I starting thinking, I’m walking through the valley of the shadow of death, the valley of deep darkness. And the words from Psalm 23 hit me: “I will fear no evil”–and I knew that Satan couldn’t touch me there. And then this morning when I woke early and was encountering the same things, the rest of that verse came to me: “because You are with me.” And that brought back to mind Dr. Regis Martin’s article on Christ’s descent into hell which, as you know, has spoken eloquently to my soul. Paul of the Cross (among others) counsels us to join our sufferings to the different mysteries in Christ’ life: “I will try with all my strength to follow the footsteps of Jesus. If I am afflicted, abandoned, desolate, I will keep him company in the Garden. If I am despised and injured, I will keep him company in the Praetorium. etc.” Perhaps Christ is inviting me to “live” in the mystery of His descent into Hell, to walk with Him through the valley of the shadow of death. I am once again re-reading Dr. Martin’s article, and once again it clarifies and strengthens me. There’s some experience this morning of His having entered through the ‘barred doors” of my heart, my own little “hell.” The pain is still there, but there”s also a knowledge that He’s there and I’m not alone.
I must thank you for your kindness in asking me how I’m doing. Four small words, but when sincerely said can make such a difference for people. And I don’t mean to complain by anything I’ve said here. Many people have been very kind to me these days, but the suffering continues.
It’s funny, isn’t it–when you’re in the middle of suffering and pain, it just seems like there’s no end, that it just has and always will be this way, and then a few little words: “You are with me” can open up a whole spiritual perspective that makes all the difference. The wounds are still there, but there’s a little balm. The mental torment can continue, but I don’t fear that I’m going crazy. Hell becomes the place where Christ descends and meets me in the scariest places in my life, where one one else can really go but Him.
Fr. Dan’s reply:
Peace be with you.
As you tell of your experience in these days, Paul’s words in Rom 8:38-39 seem so apposite: “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Christ grasps you firmly. He is walking with you, unobserved by your, through the valley of the shadow of death, and sustaining you by the banquet He has prepared for you. The reality of the fear and terror of events you describe, which leave a remnant of their foul odor in your memory even long after the events themselves have passed, only prove the more the reality of what you hope for. That hope is your anchor in Christ, which allows him–like a great heavenly winch!–to draw you through (not around!) those very terrors into the Kingdom. The psalm says that the banquet is set for you, but “in the presence of my enemies.” The greatness of these enemies is infinitely surpassed by the greatness of His mercy, which is always for you. Keep doing what you know to do: relying on yourself for nothing, and on Him, and His infinite mercy, for everything.
Christ walks with each of you through whatever valley you are in right now.
The storehouse of our mind
When you find yourself in the middle of a trial, is there a verse from Scripture that wells up from your heart to sustain you? I hope that is the case for you. Amy Carmichael writes about the importance of filling the “storehouse of our mind” with the riches of the Scriptures so that we may find strength in time of need.
1 Cor 1.3 Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort.
In one of his letters, Adolph Monod tells how he found in his hardest moments that it was enough to take firm hold on a single promise. It sustained him the the sorest difficulties. He loved the words Father of Compassions, as 2 Corinthians 1.3 has it in French.
When one is in great pain or trouble, or caught suddenly by fierce temptation, it is the word of strength or comfort that is set deep in the memory that takes life. It speaks in a new tone, and becomes to us at that moment more than we could have ever believed it would be. John 14.26 explains this: But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost . . . He shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.
So let us fill the storehouse of our mind with the treasure of God’s word. Every day offers opportunities. When we go to bed tonight, let us think, “What treasure did I put in my storehouse today?”
The Shepherd knows what pastures are best for his sheep
From a devotional book first published in 1884. (Don’t you love old books?) Here is the entry for January the thirty-first.
Prov 3.6 In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.
Ps 23.2 He leads me.
In “pastures green”? Not always; sometimes He
Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me
In weary ways, where heavy shadows be.
So, whether on the hill-tops high and fair
I dwell, or in the sunless valleys, where
The shadows lie, what matter? He is there. (Henry H. Barry)
The Shepherd knows what pastures are best for his sheep, and they must not question nor doubt, but trustingly follow Him. Perhaps He sees that the best pastures for some of us are to be found in the midst of opposition or of earthly trials. If He leads you there, you may be sure they are green for you, and you will grow and be made strong by feeding there. Perhaps He sees that the best waters for you to walk beside will be raging waves of trouble and sorrow. If this should be the case, He will make them still waters for you, and you must go and lie down beside them, and let them have all their blessed influences upon you. (Hannah Whitehall Smith)
What God can bring out of a storm
There are a lot of solar storms at the moment, but look at the stunning beauty produced by them: Solar Storms Trigger Northern Lights. The point being: think about what God can bring out of the storms in your life. Think about it.
When we can’t understand
Often we find ourselves in situations where it is so difficult to understand what God is doing, why He is allowing some particular thing to happen, why it appears that Satan has the upper hand. Her is a bit of sage wisdom from Amy Carmichael which I trust will provide encouragement for any of you in those types of situations:
Some find it hard to believe that Satan (a conquered foe) can interfere in the affairs of a child of God. Yet we read of St. Paul earnestly endeavoring to do something and Satan hindering him [1 Thess 2.18]. The reason for Satan’s power was not prayerlessness. ‘Night and day am I praying with passionate earnestness that I may see your faces’ [1 Thess 3.10 Way]. Satan could not touch his spirit, his heart’s affections, or any other vital thing in him, but he could so order events that the apostle could not do for these children of his love all that he longed to do. He could only write letters. He could not be with them
And in the familiar 2 Cor 12.7, we have a still stranger thing, a messenger from Satan allowed to do bodily hurt, and allowed to continue to hurt, we are not told for how long.
So it is clear that there are activities in the Unseen which are not explained to us. Every now and then the curtain between is drawn aside for a moment, and we see. But it is soon drawn back again.
Only this we know: ‘On the day I called, thou didst answer me, my strength of soul thou didst increase’ [v. 3]. If that be so what does anything matter? Oh, to use all disappointments, delays and trials of faith and patience as St. Paul used his. What golden gain came to our glorious Lord because of these experiences. And see how he closes this letter to the Thessalonians which is so full of human longing: ‘The very God of peace sanctify you wholly: and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Faithful is He that calls you, Who also shall do it’ [1 Thess 5.23,24]. Faithful is He: He will do it.” (AC, Edges, pp. 141-142)
Witnesses to Hope 