I remember it clearly. The moment the needle pierced his fragile skin, he looked at me with sheer horror in his eyes and began to scream.
My heart lurched in my chest. I had been through this with the others, and yet this time it felt different. Here was this child of mine who trusted me to take care of him, to protect him, this baby who rarely cried. And he was staring me down with an accusing look in his eyes as if to say, “How could you do this to me?!?”
- I’ve experienced crippling emotional and spiritual pain.
- I’ve cried the tortured prayer of “Why?” and received no answer.
- I’ve prayed for my child’s healing, and then doubted God’s goodness.
- I’ve felt abandoned, even betrayed by God, wondering how on earth He could let this happen.
Oh yet we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill,
To pangs of nature, sins of will,
Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;
That nothing walks with aimless feet;
That not one life shall be destroy'd,
Or cast as rubbish to the void,
When God hath made the pile complete;
That not a worm is cloven in vain;
That not a moth with vain desire
Is shrivell'd in a fruitless fire,
Or but subserves another's gain.
Behold, we know not anything;
I can but trust that good shall fall
At last—far off—at last, to all,
And every winter change to spring.
So runs my dream: but what am I?
An infant crying in the night:
An infant crying for the light:
And with no language but a cry.
When all you can do is cry
During the most painful moments, it was -- as the poem says -- impossible to verbalize the pain I felt. Those were times when my prayers were simply tears.
I knew Romans 8:28 by heart, but it sure didn't feel like God was working all things together for good. The pain was too intense and all-consuming.
There was nothing to do but cry. Just like an infant cries in his distress. It's the only language he knows.
And yet as I held my crying baby through his pain that day in the doctor's office, I realized something profound.
God had never left me during my times of anguish. He had been holding me the entire time. When my pain left me speechless, His Holy Spirit was interceding on my behalf, communicating to the Father with groans too deep for words.
Not for one moment did He stop caring for me.
He loves me as tenderly and devotedly as a mother loves her infant -- and infinitely more so!
He has allowed pain into my life, yes.
But He also knows the ultimate outcome. Nothing can come to me that He will not hold me through. His everlasting arms never tire. He is always prepared to comfort and soothe my pain.
Because He knows what pain is like. Our suffering Savior has borne both our sin and our sorrows. And He will never let us go.