“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!”- Philippians 4:4
I’ll be the first to admit that it’s hard to rejoice all the time. It’s easy when everything is going right, when life is smooth sailing, when the sun is shining bright. It’s a lot harder to rejoice when everything is going wrong, when life is choppy and bumpy, when the darkness has swallowed the light.
It’s a lot harder to rejoice in these times because it feels like God has abandoned you.
I used to feel this way. Sometimes, I still do.
In my darkest moments, I may feel like God abandoned me, but I know God exists because I have experienced immense pain, and I’ve come out to see the other side. In the deepest, darkest time of my life, God was there. He heard the cry of my heart, and he spoke to me—not with a thunderous boom, but with a gentle whisper: You’ll be ok.
Sometimes the quiet is more powerful than the loud.
So, He called out to me, and He rescued me from myself, and I’m still trying to make sense of the why. Why me? Why did I get a second chance at this thing called life? Why me when so many others do not?
I don’t have an answer. I don’t know if I ever will.
But I’m thankful for this second chance. And I’m rejoicing because of the way God has worked through my life, the healing that has come.
I believe God exists because my experience has answered that question. But there other questions that are a lot harder to answer.
Like, for instance, where was God when I was being raped? (There are no metaphors for this—nothing suitable enough to cushion the blow, nothing deep enough to distance myself from my memories.)
Where was God when I was dealing with the aftermath: the depression and the eating disorder?
For years, I wondered if it was easier to pretend God didn’t exist because then I wouldn’t have to blame Him.
For years, I was angry at him because being angry is easier than admitting that He never walked away—I did.
I was the broken one who had so much faith in a Mr. Fix-it-All God that I forgot about who God really is.
I thought if I prayed hard enough, cut deep enough, ate not enough, God would swoop in and make everything ok again.
And then I wondered if I believed enough because I still suffered.
It took me a while to realize that the God I was raised on—the God who wouldn’t let His people suffer—is not the God of the Bible.
Suffering was never a part of His original plan for mankind, but c’est la vie. Because of the Fall of Adam and Eve, we are all destined to suffer at some point in our lives because of the sin of mankind.
Out of the suffering, grows strength. Out of the ashes grow beauty.
And so I thank God for this. . . this. . . whatever it is. Because I can’t call it a gift, but I can’t call it a curse either, because I’ve learned so much, grown so much, helped others so much.
God isn’t “Mr. Fix-it.”
God is “Mr. Redeem It.”
I had enough faith, but I was expecting the wrong outcome, so I failed to see what God was doing right in front of me and within me—the strength he was giving me.
There are different kinds of healing.
I was expecting complete and total healing, but that’s not what I received.
Instead, I am at peace with the fact that the struggles I face every day will never go away. I will have to battle these demons, face them head-on, as long as I continue to breathe.
There are different kinds of healing. And as Christians, and humans, we expect healing to mean life. But sometimes healing means death. And we have to be ok with that.
So where was God when I was being raped? When I was dealing with the aftermath?
He was right there with me, carrying me—sometimes dragging me, kicking and screaming—through it.
He waited for me to cry out of my brokenness, before He answered, “I’ve never left you.”
And so I rejoice.
It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with all of this, for me to understand it all, for me to be content with the cards I’ve been dealt.
I rejoice because He saved me.
I rejoice because He redeemed me.
Rejoice in the good times because God is evident in the way He blesses your life.
Rejoice in the pain, not because it is a gift, but because God is right there with you in that present moment.