Tonight has certainly been an intense low point in my life. I am completely drained physically and emotionally, but I don’t want to lie in the dark and be left alone with my thoughts. It is the week of the Dance Ministry showcase and we have been rehearsing like madwomen. Every night for the past week I’ve been up till one in the morning running through dances, which is extremely late for me, and then I still have to wake up early and get my homework finished. Assignments began to slip through the cracks, but I held it together. It’s what I do.
But this afternoon I received an email with… less than pleasant news. I won’t go into the details, but I blame myself for the situation. And yet, it still hurt to hear my friend say these things to me—hurt more than I can say. I went to the gym and ran, pounded out my anger into the track. Slap, slap, slap. I had to see her that night because of rehearsal, but I avoided looking at her. Anger still gripped my exhausted body as we walked in a group to an evening chapel service.
The worship music began to play, and I felt the drums beat into my chest. I studied the words on the screen, praises to our Lord. A God who loves like a hurricane, furious and complete. I began to cry scalding tears, that I wiped away quickly. I wanted this to be God moving in some amazing way to heal me, I wanted it badly. But I feared it was just an effect of the powerful music swaying my emotions. I didn’t want to be fooled. I clenched my jaw, and sat down again.
Once the music ended, an old friend of mine stood up to speak to us. She told her lifestory and said how, one after another, things and people in her life were taken away. She was angry, furious at a God who would let these things happen to her. As she continued the story, I knew what came next. Her sister was killed—her sister. Even her own flesh and blood was taken from her.( I couldn’t stop crying.) How could God not be cruel?
But she didn’t end the story there. I don’t know how, but in the midst of all this suffering, she was able to let go of her anger toward God. She accepted the tragedies in her life—realizing that every moment is a gift that can be taken away without warning. So we should love while we can, and love deeply.
My anger too began to melt away. How inconsequential are my petty sorrows in light of real suffering. And at the same time, my sorrow is understood by God—I believe He hears me. I’m not going to pretend like my pain is completely gone, but I am broken. I am humbled. And that is what’s important.