Morbid: Part Two - It's personal

I'm going to try and write part two of the blog I didn't really finish on Wednesday. I'm saying try, cause I am still sick, though from something new. And Caeden is sick too, and very whiny and grumpy. Well, I am whiny and grumpy too. Not a good combination.

I left off on my other blog, partly because I had written myself in a corner. I really didn't know, any longer, where I was going from there.

Here's the thing: I am going to write this blog, here and now, because now I can. Emphasis on the now. Because there have been many dark nights of the soul in the last year, and I know that there will be many more. And when they happen, you feel like I felt this weekend. In my mind and spirit, as well as my body.

During those dark nights, you don't have any answers. Because they are a fever, an aching in the bones and muscles of your mind and soul. You are laid right out. No matter what you knew before, you can no longer feel it, the ground has washed out from under you and it is really in this instance where your faith is truly "blind."

C.S. Lewis, a favorite author of mine, had a night like this. When his wife died of cancer. He wrote his struggles and questions in a journal. In this journal, this great man of faith says that though he is knocking at the door in his despair, God is silent. He starts wondering if the God he believes in is really cruel and vindictive all along.

The important thing is, Lewis doesn't stay in that horrible place. Later, when that dark night is over, God again "feels near." He says he realizes his dark wondering about God's cruelty were really his way of "hitting back" at God in anger. As the darkness lifts, he finds God waiting there all along.

This is all a long intro to what I have to say. I just feel the need to explain clearly about a few things. That I know that times will come where I am in a place like Lewis, in fact, I have been there before. When that happens, you might wonder at some of the terrible stuff I write. It is really important for both you and I to remember that what is speaking is, in a sense, not really "me." It is that dark, dark night. It is unspeakable anguish, but it will pass.

So now, while I can, while it is in me, I am going to write you about where I left off in the last blog. Because I was talking about those mental antibiotics, and then I said something about Jesus being the answer. On Wednesday I could no longer remember why. But now I do.

I would never deny that the best thing about Jesus is that he was a sacrifice for my wrongdoings. That is the best thing about Jesus. Here is what I think is the second best thing about Jesus. He really shows me who God is.

You see, when things get so dark, sometimes it feels like God is up far above me saying "It's not personal, it's just business." Like Joel and his illness is just a tiny little part of a vast cosmic system of suffering that God allows to happen, cause it's "business, not personal."

I feel so tiny and insignificant, just one of that great multitude of The Suffering.

But then, there is Jesus. And He is there saying, "It's personal."

It is Jesus, calling God, not only Father, but Daddy. It is Jesus, full of kindness and compassion, for the hurting people around him. He says he would like to gather the people of Jerusalem to him like a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. He comments on how all heaven rejoices at just one person who turns their life around from evil to God. He forgives the ones who pound the nails into His hands, and He tells the criminal on the cross beside Him, that He will see him later on that day in paradise. Jesus is personal.

All through Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, I see the same message. It's not "just business." I'm not just a number to God. I matter to Him. My pain, my suffering, He sees it and cares.

The second best thing about Jesus, is that He brings God up close and personal. He promises, through it all, to never leave or forsake me. In fact, nothing can separate me from Him and His love. (Romans 8:35-39) That is the cure for my bleak and morbid thoughts, when I feel lost in the vast depths of time, space, and the suffering of millions. God sees me. I am important to Him. My suffering matters to Him.