Death has broken into the atmosphere of your life. Its vapors have left you as though you cannot breathe. It thrusts its force into your being with certain accuracy. All you see ahead is a cavity of blackness.
How could it get any darker; can’t tell if day or night. It has rippling effects, which mark your daily space. Your body is drained of strength.
It’s as if everyone is peering at you with a different look – the gaze of sympathy and distance; they do not know what to say, so they say nothing. You cry out to the empty chasm of this distance; hope feels light years away.
You bare unbelievable sorrow and extreme emotional pain. You feel older than your years in this galaxy of sorrow. Separation anxiety takes your breath away literally. In the midst of this upheaval your mind wonders this: Where is God when it hurts?
You realize where He is on Sundays, Christian holidays and such, but where is He when we walk through turbulent waters? Is He separated in another region; a mere spectator of my pain?
In this loudness of my mind, the debris clear enough to see something materialize before you. He looks worse than you feel. He was ridiculed by the very ones who said they loved Him, and this occurred during the most painful part of His life.
Impressions into His scalp and side were made by hatred. Slowly these piercings drained His strength. This person is beginning to make an impression. Great mental pain exudes from His eyes; He sees gawkers looking at Him like He is a sideshow – they feel the need to keep a safe distance.
Somehow He makes me want to draw closer. I know I have lately felt as though people were looking at me in a strange way. An unusual medical rarity has occurred. The blood oozing from the blows to His body is coming out in clot form. The stress must have been out of this world.
Just as a baby experiences separation anxiety when the parents are away, this One experienced separation anxiety in anticipation of being separated from His Father; it was an unprecedented event.
Slowly I became wrapped up in this figure unfolding before me. I ceased feeling my pain and saw His exceeding sadness.
My heart sprang to life when I could tell His sadness was for me. Then I thought, “well, is He in any position to help me anyway?”. Finally, through the torrents of blood falling from His being, His hands became visible and time stopped for me. I was looking at the One who could help me.
So, where is God when it hurts? He’s hurting with you.