Lately, there's been a lot of relationship drama around me. Not necessarily drama, because I feel like people are handling things maturely, but there's a lot of hurt flying around right now.
Today, I had a one on one with a dear friend of mine. She expressed that she was feeling sad, like her heart was just stuck and tight, like tears were stuck in her chest, waiting to come out but locked within. I told her I wish I could say something to make the sadness go away, but I could only offer understanding that I've been there, too. I told her that we just have to let emotions run their course. I directed her to pour it all out to God, because it's best to be honest about how we feel.
But as I was telling her to give it up to the Lord, I realized that the Church today glamorizes quiet times, implying that if we only give God an hour or two of our focused attention, we'll automatically feel better. God is not necessarily logical. There have been so many times when I've felt just defeated; totally at the edge of myself. I've given myself and my emotions up in earnest, heartfelt prayer, and not felt fulfilled when I'm done praying. Sometimes, I even feel worse afterward. Just because we decide to give up ourselves doesn't mean He's going to make us feel better because of our faithfulness. At least, not immediately.
But that's where faith comes in, right? We trust that although we are blind, God is leading us out of the valleys, up to the mountaintops. As long as we trust that God is good, those moments of despair, of crushed hope and devastated spirits, become okay.
I listened to John Mark McMillian's How He Loves again today. The first two lines go, "He is jealous for me/Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree." I think when we consider God's intense, all-consuming love for us, pain makes more sense. He loves us so much, and when we twist his blessings into a cursed idol, God can't bear being apart from us, so He rips that idol away.