Till We Are Home

I don’t know what may be going on in your life. I don’t know what you’ve walked through, how dark the clouds were, or even if you’ve experienced deep pain in your days. I’m truly sorry if you have. 

Sometimes, as a believer walking through hard days, we can experience such a nearness to our God. The truth of how He carries our burdens is experientially felt and we immediately understand how near He truly is. Those experiences, though born out of sorrow, bring great hope and help and light in the darkness.

Then, there are other days, other seasons and experiences when we don’t necessarily feel the presence of the Lord near to us. Instead, we can feel as if the Lord does not care what we experience as He silently sits by.

In his book titled Silence, Shūsaku Endō writes of Jesuit missionaries to Japan in the 17^th century who find a Japanese emperor and nation wholly against their religious efforts, heavily raining down persecution upon all those who seek to convert. In doing so, the Jesuit priests and their congregations often suffer at the hands of the authorities. 

One of the priests, Rodrigues, reflects on the recent suffering of two such martyrs: “What do I want to say? I myself do not quite understand. Only that today, when for the glory of God Mokichi and Ichizo moaned, suffered and died, I cannot bear the monotonous sound of the dark sea gnawing at the shore. Behind the depressing silence of the sea, the silence of God… the feeling that while men raise their voices in anguish God remains with folded arms, silent” (Shūsaku Endō, Silence, p105).

What a brutal and horrific picture of God. Yet, if we’re honest, some of us could claim the same sentiment as we’ve walked through hard providences in our life. Where’s God in the midst of my suffering? Why isn’t He helping me right now…why did He even let this happen? Why is He saying nothing?

If you’ve felt that, you’re not alone. And you’re not alone because some fictional character in a book says so. Even the psalmists feel this sometimes from the Lord, writing down their thoughts as recorded in Scripture. Hear what King David penned from the 13^th Psalm:

“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?

    How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I take counsel in my soul

    and have sorrow in my heart all the day?

How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?”

The great King of Israel, one of the types of Christ Himself, King David lamented that he felt the silence of God. This was the man after God’s own heart – words that God Himself said of David!! – and even he felt that at times God silently watched as he suffered. If King David felt silence from God in the midst of trials, then maybe we’re in good company.

I’ll admit it, it really feels lonely when walking through suffering, trials, or hard days while the Lord silently stands by. Those experiences are not easy. And when you experience sorrow upon sorrow and stand as best as you can in the confidence that the Lord only does what’s good for you yet feel His silence…well, it just doesn’t make sense. 

How much longer will you forget me, Lord? 

How much longer must I wait and watch you work in others lives to bring them blessing upon blessing but experience wave after wave, feeling sorrow in my heart all the day?

Sometimes, I just don’t know what else to do. I want desperately to be that torch bearer, to be the man who trumps understanding with continued, unfettered belief no matter what. I don’t want to always be Eeyore, but when the rain won’t stop pouring, when the silence deepens, when all else around me continues unaffectedly…well…what then?

I don’t know why we experience these periods of seeming silence from the Lord. But it is encouraging to know that the Bible is not silent about the silence of God. At least some others have felt the same way I do. 

Peter once said to the Lord after many people stopped following Jesus, “Lord, to whom shall we go?” (Jn 6:68) Though my God may be silent in some of my affliction, to whom else will I go? As Peter continued, He has the words of eternal life. Therefore, I, you, we ‘must trust’ Him even through His seeming silence as we experience wave upon wave, sorrow upon sorrow, trials upon trials. 

It doesn’t make sense to me…yet, walking away from God makes even less sense. I know who my Redeemer is and that He lives. 

Rodrigues in Silence seemed to come to a similar conclusion at the end of the book. “…even if [Rodrigues] was betraying [his fellow priests], he was not betraying his Lord. He loved him now in a different way from before. Everything that had taken place until now had been necessary to bring him to this love. “Even now I am the last priest in this land. But Our Lord was not silent. Even if he had been silent, my life until this day would have spoken of him” (Shūsaku Endō, Silence, pp190-191).

I was never promised easy days. So why should I be surprised that friend and foe may be against me, difficult and painful memories plague me, tears and sobs flow and flow and flow out of my broken heart. But even still…where else would I go? He is my God, and like Rodrigues, even if He is silent, my life will speak of Him.

David basically said the same at the end of Psalm 13. He said, “But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me” (Ps 13:5-6).

I may experience seeming silence from God, though I would bet so much more is going than I’m truly aware of in that ‘silence’. Even so, He has the words of eternal life. And even if He was silent, do I have a right to be fussy? 

No. 

Why? Because as David said, I should rejoice that I’m saved. By God’s grace through the sacrificial death of Jesus Christ upon that cross, I am saved. If I’ve been saved by His blood, then I have something still to rejoice in even in my days of suffering. 

May my life until this day, through all my days speak of God. And may it not only speak of Him, but sing to Him for He has dealt bountifully with me…with us…and always will…

Till we are home…