On feelings and assurance

At some point, we stop seeing God as a good and loving Father, deserving of our trust and embrace and awe. Even before I sat down to write today, drops of grief and sorrow coursed down my cheek, making their way onto my lip. I tasted them-salty tears, a firm reminder that this overflow of emotion points to an ache- profound and unyielding, difficult to describe.

Recently, my family took a memorable trip to Barcelona and then to the States. On both flights, shortly after take-off, we found ourselves flying through some pretty thick clouds, accompanied by heavy turbulence. I am a nervous flyer. Maybe it has to do with the fact that my gut is susceptible to changes in altitude (Don't even mention a free-fall ride to me!) or my proneness to become anxious over things I can't control.  Either way, I am the woman that holds on to a total stranger's arm for comfort on a bumpy flight. So it was during the first of our rollercoaster flights when ominous clouds were all I saw, and fear massaged my gut violently, that my oldest son, a boy who feels deeply just like his momma, looked up at me with panic in his eyes, searching for reassurance. And I forgot my anxiety; instead, I felt compassion. I knew so well my son's fear. I know it still. I held him through those gut-wrenching minutes and let him sense my strength. And I spoke to him about our destination. I reminded him that clouds were temporary, we'd soon pass through them and see once again. He dug his face into my shoulder, held my hand, and asked me to pray with him. We did, and we rode the ride through arm-in-arm.

In so many ways, I see the parallel between the story I just shared and the oft daily struggles with my own emotions.  They appear, like the thickest and grayest of clouds, blocking out the sunlight and threatening to storm. And like my trip in the skies, momentarily I see nothing but clouds, and I struggle to feel anything but worry.

The economy is slow. Worry that we will not make enough to cover our expenses.

My son struggles with anxiety. Worry that he will become crippled by it.

I am gaining weight rather than losing it. Self-loath, and eat more junk to numb the pain.

A close friend is moving away. Fear loneliness.

It's hard for me to be consistent and carry out what I need and want to do. Feel despair that I will never change.

I disappoint the Lord. Feel condemned and lose hope.

I feel my emotions deeply. I mentioned some of my darker feelings above because, over the years, I've noticed feeling them more often. I stifle many positive emotions out of fear of being disappointed. It's like I've lost touch with joyful expectation. Maybe it's like spending too much time in the company of negative friends.

These last six months have been challenging. In so many ways, I've been stretched in my emotions and been prompted to wage war on them. In personal hardship, my feelings have aimed at grabbing the helm, dictating the direction of my life, and telling me about myself. That's nice and all when I'm experiencing a good feeling, but it's terrifying when depression, doubt, and fear threaten to command.

I'm like a baby, taking the first steps. I am learning, slowly and cautiously, how to acknowledge my emotions and give them proper attention, yet not allow them to define who I am and where I am going.

There are a hundred reasons every day, to fear and panic and distrust and worry, but I have a choice to make, one that leads to either desperation or to a glorious destination. I can look up at my Daddy, strong and tender, lean into his arms of grace, and trust the truth he speaks about where we are going. There is a hand at work outside of my emotions, bringing restoration and hope to the many broken facets of this life. There can be joy in the pain and faith amid the struggle.

The constant, beyond the stormy clouds, is the life-giving and sustaining Breath of God, speaking the truth about each circumstance, and providing peace during life's sometimes tumultuous journey. It is the Word, Jesus himself, who reveals the Father to us. And we see that He is a rock- unchanging, and trustworthy. The Word is not a vapor, which the wind blows this way and that, nor is it an ominous cloud that threatens. No, the Word is an active and empowering force, living in the children of God, and leading them to a life of rest and assurance.

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. Heb. 11:1.

So why is God a good father? All of the Scriptures speak of his love, long-suffering faithfulness, and mercy towards humanity. God, embodied in the human form of Jesus, lived a perfect, kind, and sacrificial life among us. It was a life none of us could ever live. And he died, crucified on a cross, for the sins of the world. For my sins. With his death, he settled a debt that was mine to pay; but, God's power raised him up from among the dead, and He lives again! He is full of strength and glory and beauty. It is his power that he now gives to those whom he calls to follow him. Freely, and by grace, he saves those who place their trust in Him for their salvation.

So, though life's circumstances might cause me to hit every emotional bump along the way, I can be sure of a few things:

I know where I am going. My final destination is not a mystery, nor is it uncertain. It is a glorious destination where Jesus will be my sun forever.

I know who is present with me now. Jesus is powerful and victorious and patient and lovely. And He is in me, and He is for me. My defender and my friend.

I know that in every emotion, His Word offers me refuge and truth.

Emotions are God-given, a gift that makes our precious lives, richer. But, my feelings cannot be the driving force nor the upholding hand that ushers me through life. I will feel discouraged. I will feel dismayed. I will want to panic. We will feel angry and doubt. I may feel ugly sometimes. I may feel like all is lost.

Nevertheless, I have a bedrock for my spirit and heart. A stable and sound foundation, unwavering in times of crisis or struggle. I find it in Christ alone. I can feast on him, his Word is better than food or drink. It reminds me that as quickly as the clouds came in, they will vanish, and I will see the Son again.


Let this Word remind and encourage us in our every need. Amen.