"When sorrows like sea billows roll . . . "

*sigh*

I don’t want to post about sad stuff.

I don’t want to have sad stuff in my life.

Silly Lisa. Sometimes sad stuff happens. Painful stuff happens.

The past few weeks have had more than their share of bad medical news: a heart-breaking diagnosis for a friend followed a week later by a stomach-clenching diagnosis for  another friend’s mom and then, just days later, worrisome lab results within our own family.

The bad news rolled over me, pulling me under, and it seemed like I’d resurface, choking and spluttering, only to see another wave bearing down.

At one time, years ago, my grief turned to anger at God, and I ran from Him. Other times, I somehow turned toward Him rather than away. This time, my anger flared hot but guttered and died pretty quickly. Yet I was still reluctant to turn toward Him for comfort. Somewhere deep inside I felt, I am all alone to deal with this. I must be strong and weather it.

That is a lie.

Consider Psalm 62:3, 5-9, 11-12 (niv):

How long will you assault a man?

Would all of you throw him down—

this leaning wall, this tottering fence?

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;

my hope comes from him.

He alone is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

My salvation and my honor depend on God;

he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

Trust in him at all times, O people;

pour out your hearts to him,

for God is our refuge.

Lowborn men are but a breath,

the highborn are but a lie;

if weighed on a balance, they are nothing;

together they are only a breath.

One thing God has spoken,

two things have I heard:

that you, O God, are strong,

and that you, O Lord, are loving.

(Is it weird that I find it comforting that most of us are but a breath? I do.)

So now I have told myself: Pour out your heart to Him, Lisa. God is strong, and God is loving. Your hope comes from Him. He is your refuge, your rock, and your salvation.

And that’s the truth.