Though You Slay Me
Tonight, for the first time in a long time, I sat at my piano to spend some time in worship with my family. We have a lot of sickness right now going around and we have been praying for healing. But, in the past few days, it has felt like everyone around us is coming down with something.
As I sat in front of my notebook, I realized that the pieces of music in front of me were mostly added during our season of infertility and waiting. At the time, these were heart cries to God out of longing and hope. We started trying to build our family in 2014 and did not welcome our daughter until the end of 2019. But, my fear of infertility started when I was 17 years old and found out I have a hormone disorder that makes it very difficult to conceive. I carried this with me like a scarlet letter for 17 years as I waited for the man who was willing to take a risk on me and maybe not be able to have children of his own.
It’s not uncommon for those of us who feel like we are suffering to find our way to the book of Job. That was a man who really suffered. He literally lost everything due to no fault of his own. Yet, he, for the most part, was able to keep his eyes on the Lord who gives and takes away. This song comes out of the book of Job and, while it never failed to bring tears to my eyes, it challenged me to remember that God did not owe me a baby. He was shaping my heart in the waiting and asking me to draw near to Him, no matter whether He was giving or taking away.
We are not promised that life will be easy or that we will have all of the things we want. In fact, we know that we will have trouble in this world. But, we know that God is good and He loves us in ways we can’t comprehend.
Our suffering isn’t meaningless. Our afflictions matter to us, to our own growth, and to the lives of those around us if we are wiling to share them and how we’ve learned, grown, or overcome. This is the hardest part of waiting - knowing that God will do what is best for our good and His glory, even if we can’t understand or find it painful. I’ll be honest and say that I haven’t always been able to lift my head in worship in those moments. But, with the help of trusted companions and fellow followers of Christ, I am able to find my way to the altar once again and thank God for the pain that is creating something beautiful in His site.
It’s ok to cry, to lament, to grieve. These are sometimes necessary steps in the journey. I pray that you will allow the Lord to do His work in your heart while you wait for what is next.
