It will come as no surprise to you that I talk a lot. I’m what is called an external, or verbal, processor. That means I have to process my thoughts, especially the deep or hard ones, out loud. One of the most priceless gifts Jeremy gave me was learning to just listen and let me process. Usually, he didn’t even correct my wrong initial thinking because he knew I would come full circle by the end of the “conversation” and talk myself into right thinking. He was a fantastic listener and sounding board. (These days, I don’t have that person who can handle my incessant babble, so I blog. Congratulations, you are my new sounding board!)
The problem with being a verbal processor is we have an unfortunate tendency to say things out loud before thinking them through. If you’re an internal processor, that probably drives you crazy. I don’t think one is better than the other, necessarily, but I find I have to work a little harder at letting the words of my mouth be acceptable in God’s sight. (Psalm 19:14) Of course, the key to that is making the meditation of my heart acceptable, because the mouth speaks what is in the heart. (Matthew 12:34)
I’ve found that that’s not so difficult during seasons of ease. I can focus my mind on the “whatsoevers” and my words follow. But it’s not quite so easy during seasons of grief.
During hard seasons, I often find myself:
• letting my woundedness speak louder than my worship,
• submitting to my scars instead of His Spirit,
• proclaiming my pain more than His power,
• being defined by brokenness rather than blessing and
• singing self-pity louder than songs of praise.
And honestly, who could blame me for feeling sorry for myself? Being widowed in the prime of life is a rotten deal! Watching my girls struggle to grow up without their daddy is unthinkable! Even Job threw a small pity party for a minute, right? But then…. God. Our faithful, long-suffering Father comes down in a whirlwind and listens to Job’s complaint. Then, ever so patiently, He pulls the picture back so Job can see it more clearly and says, “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding” (Job 38:4). God goes on to speak of things too big for Job (or us) to fully comprehend, until Job says, “I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful to me, which I did not know” (Job 42:3). Awed by the very presence of God, Job finally realizes that he doesn’t need answers. He needs faith.
Like Job, I sometimes find myself uttering things that are far too vast for me to understand. And I have to turn my thoughts —and words — God-ward. Job humbled himself before God and asked God to teach him. Then, Job said some of my favorite words in scripture: “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; but now my eye sees You. (Job 42:5) Don’t miss this! It is in the valley that we get to truly know our Abba. That is the gift of suffering.
In this life, I will never have a God’s-eye view of the big picture. I can only see the pixels right in front of me. The portion of the picture I can see seems to have a good bit of dark spots in it, but the Artist knows what He’s doing. I can cover my face and pout, or I can sit at the feet of the master artist and learn of Him.
My favorite verbal processor in Scripture is Peter. He said a lot of really stupid things, but in the end, he got it right. He became a great leader in the early church and a powerful voice for the Kingdom. In 1 Peter, he reminded the gentile Christians that they were not alone in their suffering and that Jesus was their hope. That message is the same today.
Friend, there is no denying our suffering. The loss is profound. But instead of eminating hopelessness, I want my life-song to be one of humble praise, offering the hope of Christ to my fellow sufferers.
For, to tell you my story, is to tell of Him.
This is my story, this is my song:
Praising my Savior, all the day long.
April 26, 2022