I’m going to get over this feeling in no time.

I found myself whispering this line to myself over and over again. The pandemic hit at a difficult time in my life. Of course, the pandemic itself, being what it is, down-right sucked. It's been a time of wrestling for many of us; wrestling isolation, anxiety or emotions that have sprung up because we’ve bottled them in. I assumed all I needed to do was ask God to take away what I was feeling, and He would swoop in and fix it all immediately, or at least change what I was feeling.  

But this time, the sinking feeling in my chest was much more difficult to shake off. Reality sunk in after months of trying… I wasn't 'fine'. I hadn't been 'fine' in a while. And every time I would think I was 'fine', I'd only be disheartened by my inability to keep that feeling going. I was trying really hard, using my own human brain, to find answers to all of my questions. 

Can’t God see how exhausted I am?

Feeling overwhelmed, I confided in a friend. She gave me some advice, and I found myself curiously venturing into the Book of Job. 

For some context, Job was this exceptionally righteous and prosperous farmer who had everything in this world - a good family, a respectable reputation and plenty of wealth. And for no fault of his own, he lost his affluence, health and family. Even his own friends thought he was to blame.

Imagine having boils pop up all over your body, being aggrieved and impoverished. All at once and out of nowhere.

And what did Job do? Did he dismiss God? Nope.

‘Then Job arose, tore his robe, and shaved his head; and he fell to the ground and worshipped. And he said: 

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,

And naked shall I return there.

The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away;

Blessed be the name of the Lord.”’

Job 1:20-21 

No one had gone through what Job had gone through. It was unquestionably unfair and unjust. But despite what he must’ve been feeling in his new-found situation, Job doesn’t question His Creator’s Love. He doesn’t question His authority. Quite the opposite: Job drew even closer to His Creator and praised Him! And to top that, amidst months of physical and emotional pain, he never once questioned God’s Power. 

Here’s someone who didn’t hide his brokenness, heartbreak or struggle. Here’s a man who decided to be vulnerable and real with himself, but more importantly, with God. His honesty was refreshing and comforting. He cried out to God throughout the Book, but not so his problems would suddenly disappear. Because for Job, God's Love wasn’t proportional to what he was going through in his life. Job truly loved God; he praised God for who He was, not what he felt.

As Job was going through relentless pain and despite his devotion to God, he remained incredibly confused. Although Job desired God's plan, he struggled with God's will. While he was faithful, he was still fighting the biggest fight of his life.Instead, Job graciously accepted the new turn his life took. Early on, he realised that there was a big chance that he would have to face this new life of his with all the explanations held back. And instead, he focused on the one thing he could do: glorify God through his attitude.

Essentially, he chose to get his peace from knowing God instead of knowing the answers to any of his questions.

It wasn’t immediate or sudden. But through this long and painful journey, it was precisely this outlook that transformed him. He chose to identify the things outside his control and surrender them at the foot of the cross. He decided to give his Creator the ultimate authority over his life. Although it was unexplainable, unjust, and often unbearable, God used these intense experiences to shape him. Because if Job, just like us, knew why he had to go through what he was going through, his faith would have no room to grow. 

One commentary visualised it like this:

‘Just as drought drives the root of a tree deeper to find water, so suffering can drive us beyond superficial acceptance of truth to dependence on God for hope and life.’

Job’s character, attitude and faith made me realise that I wasn't who I thought I was. I found myself looking at a woman who went through her own small pains with anger and resentment directed at God. I found I needed to unpack the inaccurate precepts that were causing me this confusion. I found I needed to unlearn how I measured my perception of God's Love for me. I found I needed to stop lamenting the ‘why’ and ‘how’ and instead start questioning the WHAT? – what was God trying to teach me now?  

The intention here isn’t to say that I’ve figured this out; I’m continually learning more. At the end of the day, it was okay for feelings to persist and for my surroundings to stay the same or even get worse for some time. It was a season. It didn’t mean God wasn’t hearing me or that He loved me any less. But rather, His Love didn’t depend on what I felt or what my external circumstances kept telling me, but on the reality that it was unchanging and unconditional. And because I was His, He was, in His own way, guiding me to my goodness and not to my comfort. 

This quote says it best: 

‘It's okay to hurt. It's okay to feel broken, alone, empty and depressed. Not that these are good things, certainly not. But they are part of normal human experience in our abnormally broken world. Sometimes we feel that there is an unwritten rule in our Christian communities that we have to be happy all the time. That it is a sign of true faith or piety if our experience is that of joy and peace and nothing else.

Our ascetic tradition tells us something different. I heard an interview with a monk who stated that the spiritual life is probably at most 10% peace…the other 90% percent being struggle. Today many of us have the tendency to beat ourselves up for being caught in the struggle. We condemn ourselves for our negative feelings as though we can just "feel good" all the time. We have inherited logismoi (thoughts) from our culture that tells us we are insufficient or abnormal when we experience pain, hurt and sadness.

Christ calls us to a more radical freedom. Our Divine Physician does not deal with illusions and non-realities. Brokenness is often the exact place where Christ wants to meet us. Many times we read stories of great monastic elders who found grace through intense struggle with demons. I've read on more than one occasion of a monk who standing up and throwing punches at the demons for continually interrupting his prayer! Well perhaps our struggle is not quite that intense. But we've probably all had moments of wanting to throw a punch at our short tempter…our tenacious depression… 

The point is that struggle is normal.

During this season of Christ's Resurrection we constantly sing "Christ is risen from the dead trampling down death by death". How was this great victory achieved? By death. Sit for a moment with the mystery…with the paradox. Victory in death? Indeed. From the moment of His birth Christ is entering deeper and deeper into the brokenness of the human condition. Healing the sick, advocating for the poor, calling us out on the secret sins of the heart. In Gethsemane Christ even enters into the fear of death, so that we might be freed from it – according to St Maximus the Confessor. And finally, Christ confronts death, the climax of our broken state. And by entering into death He fills it with Himself, the Divine Presence. He fills darkness with light because He is the Light. He fills death with life because He is Life. Christ takes alienation from God and fills it with Love unshakable. 

Life is very hard. We experience loss in the death of loved ones, ruptured friendships, and heartbreak. We are disappointed with our relationships, our church, our country, and especially ourselves at times. Maybe we react with addiction, or anger, with blaming or jealousy…maybe we just shut down and find ways to hide our hearts from a world too cruel to cope with.

Christ never says these things don't happen. He never promises a life without struggle. What He does invite us into is a relationship of trusting His care for us. Of entering into His great victory. Being broken is part of the journey and part of the struggle. One day at a time, we work to bring our brokenness to Christ. It can be a place of meeting with Him. No place, is beyond His touch. Know that Christ sees you and loves you and is near to your pain. It's okay to hurt, it's okay to feel broken. Christ works with just such things. They are in fact, great tools for learning holiness, Love and compassion. In all places, times and circumstances, remember God Who is indeed very near to you.

Keep heart.’

– Unworthy Seraphim