open letter

Dear Vera,

Believe it or not, but I understand exactly what you're saying. What you're going through, and perhaps staring to see the end of, is one of those long trough periods called the Long Dark Night of the Soul. They're hideous. They're times when it feels as though God has led you down a dark and treacherous path to the very bottom, and suddenly leaves you there. On every side are monsters with teeth and claws that will rend you if you take one wrong step, and when you scream and curse and howl at the One who led you into that pit, demanding some explanation, some reason that could possibly justify why a God who claims to be so full of love would do this to you, all you get is one simple command: "Follow me."

I've been there. I know how you feel. Losing my son two years ago was the worst thing I have ever been through in my life, and it was every bit as bad as what I just described, if not actually worse.

If I can give you any encouragement, it is this: You are not alone. You cannot always see us, but you are hemmed in on all sides by a great cloud of witnesses, of other believers who have been to that place of despair and places worse still and found victory in Christ. The longer-standing members of this forum carried me far during that time -- I don't think they know how far, and in some ways I don't think even I can fathom how far -- and we will carry you. It's not just in prayer, but it is a mystery. Who among us does not suffer and the rest of us do not suffer with them? We're a body, and when one part is injured the whole body feels the pain.

You are not alone, and one day the anguish will be over. Before that happens, you may have felt pain a thousand times worse than anything you ever known before, and you may have sunk deeper into despair than you ever have. But it will end. And when it is over, you will find that you experience joy in a fullness you never believed possible, and find a peace and a faith that are more unshakeable than you have ever known.

I still have scars from what happened to me when I lost Isaac, and that loss still strikes like a blow to the chest at times, and sometimes I still weep. But you know something? I wouldn't trade those tears for anything I had felt before it all came crashing down on me.

Our choice, as always, is to ruin our own lives, or to let God ruin them for us, for his greater glory. I know how I have chosen, and I every confidence that you will make the same choice I did.