I can’t imagine how he felt, returning home with his step-dad after burying his mom.
I can’t imagine how she felt, being the only one wearing long-sleeves in July to hide her fresh wounds.
I can’t imagine how he felt, moving in with a different family because the last one “couldn’t handle his issues.”
I can’t imagine how she felt, looking on the smiling faces of the couples at school when her boyfriend had cast her aside like last summer’s fashions.
Orphaned. A prison of shame. Damaged goods. Cast off. Isolated. Forsaken. These are words that don’t go nearly deep enough. But to not to use words at all is to add to the walls of isolation that many feel life has constructed around them.
There is another source of words to name this reality… words like:
“Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (Ps 10.1)
“Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” (Ps 13.1)
“My tears have been my food day and night…” (Ps 42.3a)
“Has God forgotten to be gracious?” (Ps 77.9a)
But there is another place of abandonment, another place of bitter isolation, another place of pain and anguish, where words escaped the lips of one on the brink of death.
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt 27.46)
These were the words of Jesus of Nazareth as his life was ebbing away, hanging on a rough-hewn Roman cross, betrayed and forsaken by His own people.
I can’t imagine how he felt.
But He can imagine your pain. He can imagine the darkness you feel choking you. He can imagine the lonely prison of living this embattled life. So when He calls to you with His words, trust Him.
When you read these words, can you begin to believe that you are not alone?
“Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matt 28.20)
When you read those words, can you begin to believe these?
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” (Ps. 23.4)