I’m not consumed

HOPE

The words below from Jeremiah comfort me. I think it’s because they remind me that I’m not the only person to have had such feelings. I’m not the only person to have tasted such “bitterness and gall.”

That’s the beautiful thing about the Bible. There’s something there for every one of us, no matter where we’re at.

I wrote the following during the month I left the church where so many good things had happened to me in the past. This is where I had found the greatest closeness to God, the greatest inspiration to serve Him, and the greatest support I had thought possible.

I am very saddened and puzzled by how all this changed. And I wonder why bad things happen to good people.

When things are going well – especially with the work I do, trying to be a voice for people like me who are not being heard, I don’t think too much about it. But at other times, the memories bring me low, even at times bringing on depression like it seems to have done this time.

“Yet,” said Jeremiah, “this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed.”

. . . And I wasn’t consumed. Instead, God helped me write the history of the good I had done in a ministry previously thought impossible for a person with mental illness – the book, ONE SUCH AS ME. This story proves that all things are possible in a life that is dedicated to God. All things are possible for a person who loves God and shares that love with others.

NEW EVERY MORNING

I remember my affliction and my wandering,
    and my soul is downcast within me.
I well remember them,
the bitterness and the gall.

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

   Lamentations 3:19-23

Memories. We all have them. Many of them causing pain and suffering that returns over and over. And like a cow chewing its cud, we hang onto the thoughts that hurt, turning them over and over in our minds. The pain becomes worse and worse. We don’t know what to do with it. Does this sound like you? Do you ever go through this?

When I’m alone, I often recall the worst things that happened to me. Situations that have hurt me, bad treatment I’ve received, rejection I’ve suffered – real or perceived. Repeatedly my mind falls back on things I really don’t want to remember, but unfortunately do. I wish I could release the pain somehow, but it’s hard. It’s locked tightly in the prison of my heart and mind.

And I think to myself: If only God would take away the pain of my memories when I ask Him. If only He would let those go as easily as He lets my sins go when I ask for forgiveness. If He would only free me from this pain that keeps me from living a full and happy life.

Looking at the above Scripture, it’s obvious that the writer, Jeremiah, struggled with the same kinds of pain we ourselves deal with at times.

But here is what he did with the depths he found himself in:

Jeremiah shifted the direction of his thoughts, saying, “Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:” Doesn’t reading that little line alone give you hope too? It’s a promise for better things. Read on:

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
For his compassions never fail.”

God’s great love for us tells us that we don’t have to be eaten up by the pain we feel. God has compassion for us in a way no one else does. And His compassion is always there. His love for us is limitless. If we were to imagine, we might even feel His arms around us, embracing us and holding us close.

We are God’s children – His beloved children and He will never let us go. He will always be there for us, ready to wipe away our tears like a gentle parent might. Ready to give comfort. What relief there is in that knowledge!