When Words Fail
Part 1 of 4
“Joy shared is twice the joy; sorrow shared is half the sorrow.”
-- Swedish Proverb
I sat next to her and passed Kleenex as she bawled her eyes out. Her tears sprang from broken friendships brought on by horrific misunderstandings. The ensuing fallout made Chernobyl look mild. My friend bore the battle scars like an amputee returned from the Front. Weeks of steely resolve melted into mush as a flood of rage and pain swirled out of her soul.
My husband can tell you he’s learned a thing or two about female tears. Chris recognizes the delicate, lovely ones that slide down a cheek like liquid diamonds and can reduce a man to begging. He knows the silent, scorching tears that make a prudent man run for cover. Then there are the tears that break from a dark internal well so deep and hidden that when they overrun the dikes of self-restraint and tumble loose in a flood, the deluge of pain behind them is beyond any man’s comprehension or comfort. The last were the kind of tears that dripped off my girlfriend’s chin. Feeling awkward and clumsy, I thought I should say something. But what?
It’s true, isn’t it? When words fail, tears fall. Maybe I’m writing to someone who knows exactly what I mean. Having shed your own “deep, hidden” tears, you understand. Know what? God does, too. Turn to Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, chapter one and verses 3 to 4a:
"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the all-merciful Father, the God whose consolation never fails us! He comforts us in all our troubles…" (New English Bible)
How is God described here? He’s the “all-merciful Father” or the “Father of compassion," from the Greek oiktirmon, meaning pity or mercy. He’s also the God of ALL consolation or comfort. Not just “a little” comfort or “some” comfort. He’s the God of ALL comfort, “in ALL our troubles.”
What “troubles”? The Greek word here is thlipsis, from Artistole, meaning “pressure.” As used in the New Testament metaphorcailly, the word referes to tribulation, affliction and distress.
Speaking of comfort under pressure, the Greek word for “comfort” is parakaleo, “to call alongside of.” The Holy Spirit is called the Paraclete. If you’re a Christian, The Comforter or Counselor is called to your side to help in affliction or distress. When the Lord Jesus promised to send the Holy Spirit, He said, ”And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever—the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.” (John 14:16, 17 NIV)
“Counselor,” also Helper or Advocate, is a legal term, but with broader meaning than “counsel for the defense.” It refers to any person who helps someone in trouble with the law. The Spirit stands by Christ’s people. He’s the One who’s called to help, strengthen, and comfort you, who relieves loneliness, fear, and grief.
Why does God offer this comfort? Because He cares. Genuinely. Deeply. Sacrificially, sympathetically:
"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way,just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." -- Hebrews 4:15 and 16
God the Father through God the Son, our Great High Priest, is our source of mercy, grace, and help in time of need. In other words, God gets personally involved in your life. Know what else? To be effective tools for Him, we need to get involved, too. Why? II Corinthians 1: 4b, 5 has the answer:
“… SO THAT we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows." (NIV, emphasis added.)
My husband isn’t the only one who’s learned a thing or two about tears. I learned something from that agonizing, heart-wrenching experience with my friend: When someone’s hurting she probably doesn’t want a “the sun will come out tomorrow” pep talk, a trite cliché or a glib Bible verse.
In fact, how many people do you know who respond to, “Call me if you need anything”? Don’t expect someone under great stress or a heavy emotional load to call you. She has enough on her plate. Take the initiative to contact her. It may be awkward. You may not know what to say. That’s okay. In times of crisis, grief, or suffocating pain, sometimes the best thing you can do is to just be there. Sit quietly. Say nothing. Offer a hug. Because when words fail, tears fall. When they do, don’t be afraid or ashamed to enter into another’s pain by shedding some tears of your own.
Those Swedes were on to something, but I think they learned it from Paul.
When Words Fail
Part 2 of 4
Last time we saw how God truly, deeply cares and comforts us in our suffering and troubling circumstances and why one of the reasons we suffer may be to pass on the comfort He’s given us to others in similar situations. Now I’d like to ask you: Who knows the impact of the word “chemo” better than a cancer survivor? Who understands the excruciating emptiness of an unfinished nursery like a mom who’s also miscarried? Who can better buoy the bereaved than those who’ve lost loved ones? Who understands the frustration of long-term unemployment or under-employment, the unsettledness of an involuntary relocation, a daughter’s unplanned pregnancy, dyslexia, an eating disorder, depression, an adulterous spouse or the anguish of a teenager on drugs?
I’ll tell you who—the mom who’s been there. Braced by the twin beams of persevering faith and personal experience, she understands like no one else can. Like experiences build bridges of mutual understanding, and those who’ve “been there” are often God’s best comforters, His choicest counselors.
So Mom, let me ask another question: have you ever wondered why a loving God could allow such pain and suffering in your life? The question of suffering has perplexed theologians and scholars for centuries. Some depths are simply too deep for human minds to plumb. Suffering may be for discipline or correction—to get us to examine ourselves, to grab our attention, realign priorities or give us a chance to repent of known sin (Hebrews 12:6,8,11). Suffering also opens an avenue for our growth and refinement, IF we are teachable-- if we are willing to pray, “Lord, what do you have for me in this?”
There are other reasons for suffering. If God is in charge, then nothing touches us that He doesn’t allow. Baffled and sometimes disillusioned, we grimace and groan in our pain. You and I may never understand the mysteries of divine will this side of Glory. But one thing we can know for sure: God never wastes anything, and your troubling circumstances are NEVER in vain. Could it be that the slashing stings of life’s storms may be used by God to shape you into a vessel that He can use like no other?
Amy Carmichael, an Irish missionary to India, endured nearly constant pain for much of her life and was bed-ridden for years. But she also wrote more than twenty books during that time, works which she probably would not have written had she been well and strong. Carmichael’s books were the fruits of her suffering. One of them, "Rose from Brier," was a collection of letters to the sick.
In the introduction to this book Carmichael writes, “Reading them (her letters) through I am troubled to find them so personal and sometimes so intimate. It is not that I think the personal or the intimate interesting or valuable, but that I did not know how to give the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted without giving something of my own soul also (emphasis added). If I had waited till the harrow had lifted, perhaps a less tired mind would have found a better way. But then the book would been from the well to the ill, and not from the ill to the ill, which I think is what it is meant to be—a rose plucked straight from a brier.”
What about you? Can you “give the comfort wherewith you are comforted” without giving something of your own soul, too? Are you a rose plucked from a brier?
When someone you know has a need—for food, clothing, an overdue utilities bill, illness, transportation, loneliness, if she’s struggling in her marriage, job, with in-laws or kids—could it be that God is giving you an opportunity to minister? If you have a rebellious or irresponsible teen, a special needs child, an alcoholic or apathetic husband or a myriad of other circumstances that you could name much better than I—could it be that one reason you suffer is so you can bring comfort and hope to those in similar circumstances?
When Words Fail
Part 3 of 4
Listen to these words penned by the Apostle Paul:
"We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers,
about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead." – II Corinthians 1:8, 9
We don’t know all the specifics about Paul’s situation when he wrote these words, but he’s clearly at the end of his rope! Crushing affliction overtook him and threatened his very life. Paul was “under great pressure”… beyond “our ability to endure”… “despairing even of life”… “feeling “the sentence of death…”
Are these your words today? Are you stretched to the breaking point? Is the burden you’re carrying beyond what you can bear? Are you desperate? DON’T GIVE UP!!! As we learned last time, the God of all comfort has a purpose – even in this.
Look again at II Corinthians 1. If you blink, you may miss it. Did you catch the truth buried in verse nine? "But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God…."
It’s a tough lesson, isn’t it? Most of us don’t learn it until we crash into The End of Ourselves. Sometimes it’s only then that we learn the power of total dependence on God. It’s not comfortable. It certainly isn’t easy. We fight, squirm, kick and balk. But the simple truth is that another reason for suffering is so we can learn what Paul did: when his own strength faded, another Strength stepped in. When Paul slid lower than a snake’s belly, God’s grip on Him was still sure. Power comes to full strength in weakness. Don’t forget the end of verse nine: that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. Death to self precedes resurrection (II Corinthians 4:912).
Am I writing to a stubborn, stiff-necked person who’s neck-deep in the smelting fires of suffering? Are you battling God over your circumstances? Fighting with Him, armed to the teeth? Sweet sister or brother, can you see that you’ll never fully find the rest God has for you until you lay down your arms and yield to Him? Is God trying to teach you that toughest of all lessons—total and complete dependence on Him? How much longer will you fight God? (I’m not just “whistling in the wind” here. I’m the reigning World Champion of Stubborn—with the battle scars to prove it.)
Pain has a way of reducing us to dust, doesn’t it? There’s no room for false pride or pretentiousness when we’re hurting. Whether it’s emotional, physical, psychological, relational, historical, or spiritual, pain grabs us by the jugular, snaps our head back and arrests our attention like few things can. Laser-like, pain pinpoints our weaknesses, faults and limitations.
Suffering is one way we can experience God’s power in our weakness. It’s also how we come to know Christ more fully (Philippians 3:7-10). A choice tool in God’s hands, suffering can slough off our old self so that we may better reflect the beautiful image of Christ (Romans 8:29, Ephesians 4:22-24).
This life-long sculpting process includes yielding to His will, one day, one moment at a time. So surrender. Now. Because when we come to the Father empty, dependent and surrendered, He, in mysterious exchange, takes our suffering and pain and gives us more of Himself. He is the God of all comfort, whose heart is tender toward those who hurt.
When Words Fail
Part 4 of 4
Do you remember where we’ve been in this little series? In Part 1 we learned about the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, and that God allows our suffering so we can comfort others. We expanded on this theme in Part 2. Last time we saw how suffering can be God’s way of bringing us into dependency upon Him. Today we’ll turn our attention to a few final thoughts on tears.
Did you know that God takes special notice of your tears? Far from being ashamed or disappointed, God gently notes your sniffles and sobs. In fact, Psalm 56:8 tell us He lists your tears on the scroll He keeps of your life.
Talk about personally involved! Have you ever tried to record a lament or list tears? Count them, catch them, keep track of them? God does that with you! Meticulous, personal and intimate—now THAT’s caring! He never forgets the times when words fail and tears fall.
But what if you don’t feel cared for today? You know, “Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, think I’ll eat some worms”? Maybe God seems distant, remote. Do your prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling? Are you facing an uncertain future? Shaky financial status? A crumbling marriage? Bad news from the doctor? Failed plans or the gaping jaws of disappointment and defeat? Have family or friends (or both) turned on you like a junkyard dog? Maybe you deserve their wrath or rejection; maybe you don’t. Either way, you’re in pain.
I’ve found that the times I thought God was most distant are often the times He’s so close--I just didn’t see Him. Immersed in my own suffering, I sometimes allow the darkness of my circumstances to block out His love.
The truth is, our God is the Father of all mercies. The God of all comfort. Our strength when all else is sinking sand. Mom, don’t let your feelings cloud out the facts. Regardless of how you “feel,” the fact is that the tender God, the suffering Savior, is closer to you and more real than the affliction you face today. Hymn writer J. Wilbur Chapman put it this way:
Jesus! What a Friend for sinners!
Jesus! Lover of my soul;
Friends may fail me, foes assail me,
He, my Savior, makes me whole.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Hallelujah! What a Friend!
Saving, helping, keeping, loving
He is with me to the end.
Don’t forget that when you hurt, He hurts. The hands and feet of God’s only begotten Son are nail-scarred. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit—the Comforter--know what pain is. It cost the Son His life. So be honest, Mom. Tell the Lord Jesus Christ exactly how you feel—He’s big enough to take it! (Besides, He already knows.)
Finally, whether you’re bruised, frightened, ashamed, uncertain, frustrated, or heavy-laden—the Lord Jesus Christ will receive you. Wherever you’ve been, whatever you’ve done, He won’t turn you away. His arms are open. He’s waiting for you to come. Right now. Trust the Lord Jesus. Step into His eternal embrace. When words fail, He knows what to do. In fact, it would break your heart if you could grasp how much He loves you.