Lightning Strikes and Ongoing Sorrow: When I Can’t Seem to Heal

        When my mom died in 2023 (see blog post “Wildflowers in the Ashes”), it felt like a wildfire swept through my life. So much hurt. So much change. So much regret. But as the months went by, I began to see little green shoots of God’s healing and slowly the sharp pain faded into a dull ache.

            Since then, there have been sudden lightning strikes that left blackened holes in the landscape just starting to grow wildflowers again. Supposedly lightning never strikes the same place twice, but in life, loss doesn’t work that way. Loss often happens unexpectedly, and with each strike of the normal aches and pains of life, my heart burst into flame again.

I try to do the right thing, seek peace, love God, love my neighbor, but the lightning strikes. I try to weep with those who weep, a normal part of church body life, but often I just want to run away. I wake up after another rough night full of night terrors and feel like the sunshine taunts me with the illusion of another day in paradise. I’m tired of the smell of ashes even as I can see the green grass growing where the wildfire burned. I get hit, then Jesus heals me. I get hit again, and Jesus never fails. But getting hit, hit, hit, and at some point, I feel like parts of me are being permanently blown away with the wind. Trust in Jesus. Another strike. Trust in Jesus. Another strike. Lord Jesus, will it ever end? I barely recognize myself anymore as the Potter molds and smashes the clay into something that He promises will be beautiful.

            Feeling inadequate is the worst. My mind seems foggy most days and less foggy on others. It takes so much concentration to accomplish the most basic tasks like making meals, cleaning the bathroom, making the bed, getting dressed, feeding the cats, going for a walk, homeschooling my kids. These routines keep me afloat. It’s only when the “extras” hit that life seems to collapse around me like another fire.  

            Death has been unusually present over the past couple years, or maybe I’m just more sensitive to it now. Friends and family keep dying. Like ashes blowing into my face, I smell it coming even before I walk into the funeral because I’ve been here before.

            Last year, I lost friends who are still alive today. With life, there’s hope, but it’s hard to hope when betrayal is the most painful strike of all. At least when someone dies, you know that you won’t see them in the grocery store anymore or feel the sting of slander or silence or both. Betrayal is when friends choose the other side when you thought that they were on your side. It’s when friends pretend like nothing’s wrong and go about their normal life as your life is destroyed. Betrayal is when you’re screaming for help, and they add fuel to the fire. Betrayal is the death of friendship.

            Last year, I lost friends to old age and cancer. My Grandpa died. A deacon died. A church member died. Last month, I lost friends to suicide and cerebral palsy. Yesterday, I lost a friend to liver cancer.

            The lightning strikes keep hitting me again and again. I feel cornered by life in a broken world and helpless when loved ones depart forever. I get angry at myself for soaking in sadness this way and not healing faster. I believe the truth that Jesus is the resurrection and the life, and all who believe in Him have hope for this life and the next. He’s changed my life and gives me purpose every day to follow Him despite the strikes. But why won’t my heart cooperate? Why does loss hit me differently than others who seem to be able to go to work or laugh as before?

            I’m going through the motions just to get through the funerals, and I can’t cry because I know if I do, I’ll never stop. I care deeply about relationships because relationships aren’t easy for me, and when they’re gone or discarded or fade away, I feel myself fading too. Do I stop comforting my friends? Of course not! How can I leave them when I know how it feels to be betrayed? I don’t want more regret by ignoring their pain. I don’t want a hardened heart that puts myself first and Jesus second. I want to love, even when it hurts. And lately, it just hurts.

            When I try to push through, it’s like being dragged across gravel. When I force myself to slow down, the flames climb my legs from the hot ground. I never knew there were so many kinds of pain until now. Pain of depression. Pain of being made new and whole in Christ. Pain of hiding sin. Pain of repentance. Pain of resisting God’s sovereignty. Pain of submitting to God’s sovereignty. Pain of loss. Pain of gain. Pain of anniversaries when someone is missing. Pain of forgetting anniversaries. Pain of people remembering. Pain of people forgetting. Pain of being excluded. Pain of being included. Pain of a wildfire. Pain of lightning strikes. Pain of wind blowing ashes away.

            I’m so thankful that God’s word says it like it is. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, “Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

            This is how it feels, like the slow decay of a zombie. Alive, yet dying. Yet thank God, my soul doesn’t feel that way. It’s being renewed day by day. Jesus is keeping me, and that’s encouraging.

Here’s another one. 2 Corinthians 5:4-5, “For indeed while we are in this tent, we groan, being burdened, because we do not want to be unclothed but to be clothed, so that what is mortal will be swallowed up by life. Now He who prepared us for this very purpose is God, who gave to us the Spirit as a pledge.”

            The emotions of pain are described here as groaning and nakedness. The apostle Paul understood what shameful pain was like, yet he also reminds us that the Holy Spirit has not abandoned our “earthly tent.” God is not ashamed to associate with us.

And look at Romans 8:18, 22-23, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us…For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now. And not only this, but also we ourselves having the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body.”

            The suffering of this life is NOTHING compared to glory. Can you imagine this? The decaying, groaning, suffering, and pain of this life that makes it so hard to put one foot in front of the other is NOTHING compared to the glory of heaven that’s coming.

            Sometimes I feel like Job where no matter what I do, it always produces pain or loss. Am I making the wrong decisions? Am I married to a man who is? Are we doing something wrong? Could we do things better? How will these trials affect my kids? Am I being responsible with the life that God has given me?

            Then I remember the story of Joseph who experienced so much pain and loss, but it was for a greater purpose than he could ever imagine. Life hurts. Unanswered questions torment. Betrayal changes relationships forever. But what people meant for evil, God intended for good. I’ve journeyed through abuse, trauma, depression, and heartache, and those things still hit hard sometimes. I would never choose these on my own, but I’m thankful that God has never abandoned me in the flames.

            Job wasn’t perfect and wrestled with God over many of the same questions we have in suffering. Joseph wasn’t perfect either and was tempted to use his power against his brothers through revenge. But Jesus was (and is!) perfect, and that’s where I set my hope. Hebrews 12:2-3, “Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”

            Life is painful, but it’s even more painful because we see the world through redeemed eyes. We look at people as valuable image-bearers of God whose lives and deaths matter. We feel stuck in a broken world when we’d rather be with Jesus in heaven. We carry the death of Jesus as we move against the flow of the dying and try to be good stewards of a world full of thorns, thistles, and evil. We weep with those who weep when we’d rather party with those who party. We persevere in trials when we’d rather give up. We walk a narrow uphill path when the wider path is all downhill. This is the painful journey of following Jesus, but it’s temporary. We have the testimony of Jesus, the Man of Sorrows, who wrestled with the cost of following God yet the greater glory of bringing many sons and daughters to glory was worth it, even if the path led to the cross.

            This post might be hard to read and not as smooth as some of my other posts. Lately I’ve been struggling to write because I feel like an amputee. People who go through suffering often write a lot about suffering, and it can be depressing after a while. I get that. I get tired of reading books and blog posts about brokenness and suffering, too. On the flipside, I need to write even if no one reads it because it brings me back to Jesus, which is exactly where I need to be.

            If you’ve been avoiding the worship service at church because it’s too hard to be around people, I know how you feel. I also know that being at church is exactly what our souls need whether we’re having a great day or a bad one. And yesterday was a perfect example of this.

            Yesterday morning, a friend died. I went to church with a heavy heart. I play the piano for our congregation and went through the motions of practicing the songs with our music leader. I felt emotionally exhausted by the time I sat down for prayer meeting.

The devotional before prayer time was chapter 4 of Keith & Kristyn Getty’s book, Sing! How Worship Transforms Your Life, Family, and Church, and this quote resonated with me: “Through the course of our lives, we may well know times when it’s easy to have a spring in our step as we stand to sing; but often we come to sing with heaviness of heart, where our singing chokes a little in our souls, if not in our throats. None of us comes with everything figured out. We need to have songs that recognize these realities without leaving us to despair of those realities, because they lead us to the Rock that is higher than us.” (p. 45). How did God know I needed to hear that? To remind me of Jesus and that I’m not alone.

Then the first song we sang in church was “Our Great God,” and the second verse went,

Lord, we are weak and frail

Helpless in the storm

Surround us with Your angels

Fold us in Your arms

Our cold and ruthless enemy

His pleasure is our harm

Rise up, oh Lord, and he will flee

Before our sovereign God

Hallelujah! Glory be to our great God

Hallelujah! Glory be to our great God

 

How did God know I needed to hear my entire church singing this? To remind me of fellow brothers and sisters who need Jesus and that I’m not alone.

Next came Psalm 52 which opened with, “Why do you boast in evil, O mighty man? The lovingkindness of God endures all day long.” How did God know I needed to hear David’s words? To remind me of others who looked to Jesus in the Bible and that I’m not alone.

Then came a sermon focused on Zechariah 10 with reassurance of God’s care for His people like, “I will whistle for them to gather them together, for I have redeemed them” (v. 8). How did God know that I needed to hear this? To remind me of fellow exiles and that I’m not alone.

The Lord’s Supper followed as a visible reminder of the grace and love of Jesus. Who am I? I am His! How did God know that I needed this? To remind me of blessed assurance and that I’m not alone.

The church sang three more songs:

O soul, are you weary and troubled? No light in the darkness you see?

There’s light for a look at the Savior, and life more abundant and free!

Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face,

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.

 

When years of time shall pass away

and earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,

when men who here refuse to pray,

on rocks and hills and mountains call,

God’s love so pure shall still endure,

all measureless and strong;

redeeming grace to Adam's race—

the saints’ and angels’ song.

O love of God, how rich and pure!

How measureless and strong!

It shall forevermore endure:

the saints’ and angels’ song!

 

He who rules the wind and waves, soon will come again

Oh take courage little heart, every storm will end

There’s a rock where I can go, keeps me safe and this I know

Deep within my troubled soul, Jesus calms the storm

 

How did God know that I needed to hear these before I left? To give hope for my week, that I’m not alone.

The service concluded with 2 Corinthians 13:14, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with you all.” How did God know that I needed this? To remind me of union with God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, that I’m not alone.

Later, we visited friends who were grieving. As we drove up their gravel road, the gloomy sky broke open with raindrops and a beautiful rainbow. I commented to my husband, “Isn’t it interesting that you can see the pinks and reds and purples and blues in a sunrise and sunset, but a rainbow also has green?” How did God know that I needed a rainbow on the way? To remind me to look up and see a reminder of His mercy.

A few hours later, we sat around the living room and sang some hymns. One of my daughters chose “Be Still, My Soul,” and I was struck by this phrase:

Be still, my soul! Your Jesus can repay

From His own fullness all He takes away.

 

I never plan to be emotionally dry. No one really does. But God always meets us through the means of grace and guides our hearts through His word, His people, circumstances, hymns, and a million other ways. We are not random people existing in a random world enduring random suffering. Yes, we are dust, but God is not. And through Jesus, we are united to the King of kings, and one day our “dust” will be remade into bodies that will never experience death or mourning or crying or pain again (Rev. 21:4). 

Even when lightning strikes hurt, these strikes are held within the providence of God for our good. The Lord’s voice is in the thunder that follows. He gives the rainbow in the rain. We are not alone.

THE MESSIAH AND SOUL MUSIC

     

    

    Earlier this December, I went to a free community concert of Handel’s Messiah, which was condensed from the original 3 hours to only 45 minutes. My husband was very glad about that because after about ten minutes, he was ready to leave. Classical music isn’t for everyone, but the Messiah is unique because it’s an annual tradition for many choirs around the world at Christmas. I grew up listening to it on tape, and then on CD, and I was excited to hear it live for the first time.

    The original Messiah was an oratorio written by two men. Charles Jennens (1700-1773) used Scripture as his inspiration for the text. He wrote the Messiah in response to the rising impact of Deism, a belief that accepts the existence of a creator based on human reason and philosophy but rejects the sufficiency of Scripture which upholds that God is supernaturally involved in human affairs, including salvation. George Frediric Handel (1685-1759) was the composer who wrote all the music for the Messiah in only 24 days. He, too, believed in the sufficiency of Scripture and sovereignty of God in salvation. At the end of the Messiah, Handel wrote the letters "SDG"—Soli Deo Gloria, "To God alone be the glory".

    The Messiah was originally written in 1741 as a gospel presentation and fundraiser for orphans at the Foundling Hospital in London (now a museum which opened in 2004). The oratorio was intended to be played every Easter and later played at Christmas, too. The Messiah is 53 songs of choir and orchestra in three parts: PART 1 describes God’s plan to redeem mankind through a Savior who was prophesied in the Old Testament and fulfilled in the coming of Jesus; PART 2 tells of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus; PART 3 is about the hope of resurrection and glorification for those who believe in Him.

    My favorite song in the Messiah is called, “For Unto Us.” (To listen to the song, click HERE) It captures the joy we have at Christmas for the birth of Jesus and directly quotes Isaiah 9:6,

“For unto us a Child is born,

Unto us a Son is given;

And the government will be upon His shoulders.

And His name will be called

Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

The community concert wasn’t the first time I listened to a large orchestra. When I was about 13, all the local school districts were invited to a free concert by the Grand Rapids Symphony Orchestra in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and I never forgot that experience. Hearing music is one thing; seeing music played by musicians who feel the music they’re playing is unforgettable, which is what makes live concerts so attractive. As I walked through the front door of the small-town church recently, I anticipated something like my 13-year-old experience because the Messiah is one of the most famous music pieces in the world.

But as the lights dimmed and the music started, I had to rearrange my expectations completely. The music was prerecorded with only a few stringed and percussion instruments like what you’d hear from a cheap recording studio. The choir was average men, women, and teenagers, the best that our community had, yet all unprofessional. Several solos were flat and painful to listen to. Sometimes the timing was off. This was THE Messiah! How could such a Scripturally meaningful concert be sung so poorly? Toward the end of the concert, I was ready to find the nearest exit, too.

But then I realized that I was listening to the Messiah all wrong. I was listening for skill, precision, pitch, timing, sound projection, harmony – things largely dependent on professional talent. Things that separated those who “had” from the nobodies who “had not.” The rejects should be sitting in the audience, not attempting to sing such beautiful music in a choir. Yet, these broken, imperfect vocalists were a beautiful picture of the gospel, exactly what the songs of the Messiah represented. The problem wasn’t the choir; the problem was me.

1 Corinthians 1:26-29 says it beautifully, “For consider your calling, brothers and sisters, that there were not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble; but God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong, and the insignificant things of the world and the despised God has chosen, the things that are not, so that He may nullify the things that are, so that no human may boast before God.”

The Messiah was originally intended to raise money to help orphans, to remind people that the outcasts of society, the nobodies like you and I, have a God who remembers their deepest needs and answered it through the coming of Jesus Christ. The songs of our Messiah aren’t limited to the songs of the Messiah. Many Christian songs, including many carols, contain the gospel story that still changes lives.

Listen to a few phrases from these Christmas songs*:

Come, thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee.

Joy to the world; the Lord is come; let Earth receive her King; Let ev'ry heart prepare him room, And heav'n and nature sing.

Go, tell it on the mountain, Over the hills and everywhere. Go, tell it on the mountain that Jesus Christ is born.

Mild He lays his glory by, born that man no more may die, born to raise us from the earth, born to give us second birth. Hark! the herald angels sing, "Glory to the newborn King."

            And you, beneath life’s crushing load, whose forms are bending low, who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow: Look now! For glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing, O rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing.

            Flocks were sleeping, shepherds keeping vigil til the morning new; saw the glory, heard the story, tidings of a gospel true. Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow, praises voicing, greet the morrow; Christ the child was born for you! Christ the child was born for you!

On that frosty December evening as I listened to the community choir, I realized that the body of Christ is just like them: imperfect, poor timing, off key, easily distracted. But unlike them, the body of Christ has the advantage. We sing with soul. Power. Passion. Conviction that these songs belong to us. And we don’t sing about the Messiah once a year “because it’s tradition.” We sing about the Messiah every Sunday because He’s alive!

God continues to save people despite their abilities and gives an outlet for praise through singing. He wants to hear us sing as shown by a heavy emphasis in the Bible with more than 400 references to singing and nearly 50 direct commands. For those of us who know our musical talents (or lack thereof), it can be intimidating to sing. Many new believers have never formally sung with other believers until they enter a church service. A hymnal might be the first sheet music they’ve ever seen. Learning psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs after years of singing whatever was on the radio or Spotify is like learning a whole new language with unfamiliar words like “Potentate” and “Ebenezer” and “archangel” and “cherubim” and “forevermore.” But singing songs based on Jesus our Messiah, on God’s word, and other Scriptural truth, is exactly what our souls need. And God wants to hear our souls sing!

Every time you sing with other Christians in your local church each Sunday, you produce the most beautiful sound in the world – voices united under the banner of the Messiah. You share the joy of Jesus Christ with others as you are “filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody with your heart to the Lord; always giving thanks for all things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God, even the Father.” (Ephesians 5:18b-20)

Arguably, the most well-known song in the Messiah is the “Hallelujah Chorus” where “hallelujah” is sung 23 times! “Hallelujah” means “God be praised,” and “omnipotent” means “all-powerful.” As you listen, notice the enthusiasm of this song. Click HERE

Whether you enjoy classical music like the Messiah or carols or other music this season, God is worthy to be praised by His people. It doesn’t matter if you sing on key or have perfect timing. It doesn’t matter if you’re a professional in a philharmonic choir or a nobody from a small town. Psalm 68:4-5 says: Sing to God, sing praises to His name; Lift up a song for Him who rides through the deserts, Whose name is the Lord, and exult before Him. A father of the fatherless and a judge for the widows, is God in His holy habitation.

Recently, Crossway published a new hymnal called The Sing! Hymnal. It contains a wide variety of psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, both old and new. This blog post is not affiliated with Crossway or Keith and Kristyn Getty who produced it, but I wanted to share the joy of this new hymnal for congregational singing everywhere. I bought the hymnal recently, and it was neat to see many favorites that I’ve sung with my church – and many new songs that I look forward to trying soon! Each local church has its favorite songs, and the hymnal was missing a few of ours, but that’s just a reminder that no hymnal can fully contain all the songs of the Redeemed. That’s what heaven is for, and what a glorious sound that will be!

Even as out-of-tune unprofessional “choir” members, we have the privilege of being God’s choir, and we will sing the praises of the Messiah for all eternity:

“Great and marvelous are Your works, O Lord God, the Almighty;

Righteous and true are Your ways, King of the nations!

Who will not fear, O Lord, and glorify Your name?

For You alone are holy; for all the nations will come and worship before You,

For Your righteous acts have been revealed.” (Revelation 15:3-4)

 

 

 

 

 

*Christmas carols (all public domain):

Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus

Joy to the World!

Go, Tell It on the Mountain

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

Infant Holy, Infant Lowly