pain, sorrow and suffering...prayers for Michael

I just heard through the community of faith bloggers, that our dear friend Michael Spencer's prognosis in not at all all good. I've never met Michael face to face but am an ardent reader of his blog, and a listener of his podcasts...it is through those spaces we've communicated. But this recent news, although may have been imminent, it is still tragic and shocking. For me it has opened past wounds, and touched fragile nerve endings.

I have always struggled with pain and suffering, the thought that God is always with you in the midst of it. The words, " he will never leave you or fore sake you ", that we toss in the direction of those whose world lays in rubble around their feet.

I think there are times on the grand stage of life, when a crisis of pain and suffering happen and the director/producer seem to have left the scene. The camera is left running. There is no one to explain what just happened, why it happened...or how the rest of the story will evolve. It's a freeze frame moment. You are stunned. Life's breath seems to have been sucked out of you. The hard drive in your head whirls frantically, trying to compute to make sense out of anything. In your free fall, you search for anything to hang on to.

I understand the concept of God being the great " I am ", the beginning, the end and every thing in between. But, there are times, when...you are on stage alone.

The Psalmist muses, All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

What does that mean?

Did God have script already written for me stashed away in the heavenly archives filed under the " R's "?Did he pull it out during that night of lust, on a cold 1952 December night in Whitehorse when Wally and Eleanor were getting down to business? Did God yell, " Action ", and I prepared to enter the stage of life.

Did it unfold as initially written? Or is the script being edited as the act of living my life unfolds?

Can I proclaim with the certitude of the Psalmist, or do I imagine something else?

In the summer of 1996 my youngest brother a diabetic, home alone in his apartment had an insulin reaction that escalated rapidly out of control...he ended up dying, only three feet away from the syringe and insulin that could have saved his life. He would not be found until three days later.

Was this the script that was written by a grand director/ producer, that my brother, a character in this incredible story of life was to unknowingly act out in his brief moment on stage. Did God really write all this out: create character; male; genetic illness, diabetes; triggered into action late 20's; male character dies early 30's three feet from medication that could save him; character exits stage, scene over...over all story continues?

Enter, pain and suffering...my world lay in rubble at my feet. As if hit by the wind of a hurricane, my well constructed faith was scattered debris in all directions. And the director, where was he/she...suddenly the stage, the theater was empty. The lights had been turned out, not even an " exit " light illuminated a path for escape. I was alone...utterly alone.

" I will never leave you or fore sake you ", " all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" Where was the director, and who would write such a bizarre sick script and expect us to faithfully act it out. For months I tried to digest the above words. They only added to my pain and suffering, they tormented me. I had so many questions. I wept, I screamed into the depth of the darkness that seemed to be swallowing me. I heard nothing...nothing, not even a whisper.

It seemed the only person I could relate to was Job. If the script I was living out was shit, Job's script was absolutely insane. Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, they got worse. And Job had questions. If there was a script, he wanted answers...why!!!

But what pissed me off was, Job did finally get to question God. But in an even more bizarre twist, Job's why questions were thrown back to him with more questions from God. So in the end, did Job fair better than me? Sure he was restored, life returned to normal...even better than normal, but there really was no answer to his pain and suffering. About the only thing Job could say with certitude was God is God. That some how he is the beginning, the end and everything in between. But as to how it all works, how the script comes into play...the actors, the scenes, pain, tragedy and suffering...still so many questions.

For months, I embraced my pain, suffering, sorrow. It was breakfast, lunch and dinner. I lived in the midst of an emotional storm of anger. I came to realize my well constructed faith is fragile, something to be held lightly, and that in pain, sorrow and loss it sometimes breaks. In the end, I pick up pieces, not all the pieces...and I learn to live with new faith.

I believe there are times when we are alone. I believe there is a script to my life, but that it is a script of such imagination that I will never understand it...at least not here, on the stage in which I act out my part.

Pain, suffering and sorrow, are they pre-written into the intimate scripts of our lives? I don't think so. But they are a reality of everyday life. They torment us, and haunt us with never ending questions that we very seldom find answers to. They test faith, reconfigure, and reconstruct faith. And in the end, we likely find like Job did...God is truly God, miraculously he is the beginning, and the end...and everything in between.

I think we find God in the midst of friends, family who hold us, love us, hug us, and cry with us. They some how lift us carry us when we are too weak to even move. It is the hands, the face, the words of the God who is love coming into being. Mysteriously it is Emmanuel...God with us, in the midst of pain suffering and sorrow.

Michael, Denise family and friends...know that you are surrounded in a cloud of prayers of friends close and distant. May you feel the profound presence of Jesus, may you feel his comfort, and peace.

When my road leads into dark storms,
You will light up my eyesight.
When I fall on hard ground,
You will lift me up to rise.

When I face hardship and scorn,
We will together share our portion.
When I suffer in a hopeless sickbed,
We will together battle in each breath.

When I'm lost alone and lingering,
You will be with me, and guide me home.
One day I'll die and depart,
But I truly believe
You will lift me up.

O God, our Savior, listen to our prayer.
Fill our hunger, heal our sickness,
Comfort our souls.
If you wish not to answer,
Then please wait for us,
Because we are about to shut our eyes.

(unknown)

I just heard through the community of faith bloggers, that our dear friend Michael Spencer's prognosis in not at all all good. I've never met Michael face to face but am an ardent reader of his blog, and a listener of his podcasts...it is through those spaces we've communicated. But this recent news, although may have been imminent, it is still tragic and shocking. For me it has opened past wounds, and touched fragile nerve endings.

I have always struggled with pain and suffering, the thought that God is always with you in the midst of it. The words, " he will never leave you or fore sake you ", that we toss in the direction of those whose world lays in rubble around their feet.

I think there are times on the grand stage of life, when a crisis of pain and suffering happen and the director/producer seem to have left the scene. The camera is left running. There is no one to explain what just happened, why it happened...or how the rest of the story will evolve. It's a freeze frame moment. You are stunned. Life's breath seems to have been sucked out of you. The hard drive in your head whirls frantically, trying to compute to make sense out of anything. In your free fall, you search for anything to hang on to.

I understand the concept of God being the great " I am ", the beginning, the end and every thing in between. But, there are times, when...you are on stage alone.

The Psalmist muses, All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

What does that mean?

Did God have script already written for me stashed away in the heavenly archives filed under the " R's "?Did he pull it out during that night of lust, on a cold 1952 December night in Whitehorse when Wally and Eleanor were getting down to business? Did God yell, " Action ", and I prepared to enter the stage of life.

Did it unfold as initially written? Or is the script being edited as the act of living my life unfolds?

Can I proclaim with the certitude of the Psalmist, or do I imagine something else?

In the summer of 1996 my youngest brother a diabetic, home alone in his apartment had an insulin reaction that escalated rapidly out of control...he ended up dying, only three feet away from the syringe and insulin that could have saved his life. He would not be found until three days later.

Was this the script that was written by a grand director/ producer, that my brother, a character in this incredible story of life was to unknowingly act out in his brief moment on stage. Did God really write all this out: create character; male; genetic illness, diabetes; triggered into action late 20's; male character dies early 30's three feet from medication that could save him; character exits stage, scene over...over all story continues?

Enter, pain and suffering...my world lay in rubble at my feet. As if hit by the wind of a hurricane, my well constructed faith was scattered debris in all directions. And the director, where was he/she...suddenly the stage, the theater was empty. The lights had been turned out, not even an " exit " light illuminated a path for escape. I was alone...utterly alone.

" I will never leave you or fore sake you ", " all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" Where was the director, and who would write such a bizarre sick script and expect us to faithfully act it out. For months I tried to digest the above words. They only added to my pain and suffering, they tormented me. I had so many questions. I wept, I screamed into the depth of the darkness that seemed to be swallowing me. I heard nothing...nothing, not even a whisper.

It seemed the only person I could relate to was Job. If the script I was living out was shit, Job's script was absolutely insane. Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, they got worse. And Job had questions. If there was a script, he wanted answers...why!!!

But what pissed me off was, Job did finally get to question God. But in an even more bizarre twist, Job's why questions were thrown back to him with more questions from God. So in the end, did Job fair better than me? Sure he was restored, life returned to normal...even better than normal, but there really was no answer to his pain and suffering. About the only thing Job could say with certitude was God is God. That some how he is the beginning, the end and everything in between. But as to how it all works, how the script comes into play...the actors, the scenes, pain, tragedy and suffering...still so many questions.

For months, I embraced my pain, suffering, sorrow. It was breakfast, lunch and dinner. I lived in the midst of an emotional storm of anger. I came to realize my well constructed faith is fragile, something to be held lightly, and that in pain, sorrow and loss it sometimes breaks. In the end, I pick up pieces, not all the pieces...and I learn to live with new faith.

I believe there are times when we are alone. I believe there is a script to my life, but that it is a script of such imagination that I will never understand it...at least not here, on the stage in which I act out my part.

Pain, suffering and sorrow, are they pre-written into the intimate scripts of our lives? I don't think so. But they are a reality of everyday life. They torment us, and haunt us with never ending questions that we very seldom find answers to. They test faith, reconfigure, and reconstruct faith. And in the end, we likely find like Job did...God is truly God, miraculously he is the beginning, and the end...and everything in between.

I think we find God in the midst of friends, family who hold us, love us, hug us, and cry with us. They some how lift us carry us when we are too weak to even move. It is the hands, the face, the words of the God who is love coming into being. Mysteriously it is Emmanuel...God with us, in the midst of pain suffering and sorrow.

Michael, Denise family and friends...know that you are surrounded in a cloud of prayers of friends close and distant. May you feel the profound presence of Jesus, may you feel his comfort, and peace.

When my road leads into dark storms,
You will light up my eyesight.
When I fall on hard ground,
You will lift me up to rise.

When I face hardship and scorn,
We will together share our portion.
When I suffer in a hopeless sickbed,
We will together battle in each breath.

When I'm lost alone and lingering,
You will be with me, and guide me home.
One day I'll die and depart,
But I truly believe
You will lift me up.

O God, our Savior, listen to our prayer.
Fill our hunger, heal our sickness,
Comfort our souls.
If you wish not to answer,
Then please wait for us,
Because we are about to shut our eyes.

(unknown)

Comments

[ron cole]

This comment is from Cheryl Wohlgemuth, she sent it in an e-mail...

Hi Ron,

I couldn't post this comment on your blog tonight.

Michael Spencer was one of two people who supported me in my blogging in the very beginning, encouraging me to keep going when I wanted to scrap the whole thing.

That prayer at the end of your post is very meaningful to me.