When it Storms: Every Mile Matters..."I'm With You"

I have the mixed blessing of living in an area that rains, on average, 140 days per year (that is measurable precipitation). We have gorgeous greenery everywhere, but the sun is a less than common occurrence. Rain can damage our environment just as much as it makes it flourish (water is, after all, the most destructive force on the planet). We definitely have predictable seasons of rain, when everyone braces for the grey skies. Then there are days of unexpected rain, and they can be a less than welcome event. 

These life giving sources also correlate with another season: sadness and depression. The gray skies and lack of sunshine can cause depression for some (and low vitamin d for many). We take vitamins, we use special lamps, and do various things, but we always know the true change will come when the sun is out for summer. The season just has to end, and then we recover.

Not all seasons are quite so clear cut. Not all seasons of depression end with the sunshine. Sometimes the rain we experience in life is less of a nuisance and more of a destructive flood, run wild.

In seasons of rain, floods, and depression, I have learned something. There are two very unique approaches to coping with the season that is outside of our control. I have some friends who are cheery, who try to lift people’s spirits, and resist the season with every bit of strength they have. 

Then there are the sitters. Or, at least that is what I like to call them. The people who will knowingly and willingly sit in the rain. Whether it be by themselves (during their own season of sadness and flooding), or with another, they aren’t fighting it. There is no resistance. No pretending that the rain isn’t there, that the floods are not destroying the landscape around them. They sit. They acknowledge the destruction. And they wait with you. Whatever the season, they sit with you in the raw, unbridled flooding and pain. They don’t run. They don’t convince you to run. They say “sit, it is okay, you are not alone; just sit”. No matter what, every mile matters to them. Every storm. They remind me "I'm with you". Always.


When you look for examples of sitters in the Bible, there is not a better example than Ruth.

There is much to be said about the story of Ruth. It is a beautiful and complex story, filled with nuance and countless complicating factors. So is the story of seasons of rain, depression, and flooding, am I right?

When we look at the first chapter of Ruth, we learn that the flooding has washed over the top of Naomi’s life. In a time when life was already hard, she lost her husband. At first it seemed like there was a reprieve from the flood...she had two sons., both of which had married. Then the unthinkable happened. Her two sons died. She was lost and alone.

She and her two daughter-in-laws were stuck in a famine. Naomi was a widow. She was too old to hope for another husband...a fact that made her (at that time) likely to be without any support. So Naomi made the decision that made the most sense to her (and likely anyone else in a similar position). They headed to a place where there was supposed to be better conditions...Moab. She told her two daughter-in-laws to go and return to their mothers. This would be their chance to remarry and survive. At first they both pushed back...they said they would stay and return to her home with her. 

I can only imagine what happened next. Naomi must have had to gather so much courage to be a mother again. She told them this made no sense. So Orpah agreed to go.

Then there was Ruth. Ruth wasn’t having it. She was a sitter. She would not leave. For Ruth, every mile mattered.

Naomi tried to talk sense into her. Reason, logic, and common sense. Go. It makes sense. The rain. The depression. The flooding. There was no way to tell when the season would end. Just go.

Ruth wasn’t afraid of the storm. Or maybe she was, but something deep inside her was stronger. She told Naomi “ [...] “Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.” (Ruth 1:16-17).

Ruth had no clue what the storm had in store for her. She was certainly mourning herself. Her father-in-law. Her husband. Her brother-in-law. Then her sister-in-law left. She must have been terrified. Two widows, alone in the storm.

Dear one, is there a storm in your life? Are you caught in a season of rain, flooding, and depression? Is the storm threatening to pull you under? I know that in my personal seasons of rain and flooding, I want to fight and resist and try everything possible to resist the water.

But dear one, what if we sat? What if we became like Ruth? Don’t get me wrong, Orpah makes far more sense. She went back to where survival seemed like a sure thing. But only when we sit in the storm do we see that every mile matters. Only during the torrential rain can we hear “I am with you”.

Until next time…

In Love,

JSB



PS: As Always, don’t forget to grab your journal page here!

A Messy Love, Transformation At the Fringe: When Healing Doesn't Happen

Dear one, can I be honest? Really, really honest? I have known I needed this installment in the series on healing, and it is the one I have dreaded most. It is the one I have had to postpone until God spoke to my heart and said “now, Jeanette, now is the moment”.

I didn’t fear writing it because I am afraid of pain. There are times where I am convinced that pain is my permanent zip code. Professionally, personally, in family units, pain is prolific. But I needed to make sure that God was speaking instead of me. Because I am imperfect and angry and jaded. Not always. But sometimes, and that means I should not raise my voice to talk about it. He should.

Today, dear one, I want to talk about the most painful part of healing...when it doesn’t happen. Because sometimes it doesn't. Children are abused. They die of cancer and other awful diseases. Amazing couples who want children can’t have them. People are sexually assaulted. Addiction swallows up families. Wars destroy people and decimate cultures. People who do truly evil things get away with it. People who are innocent get trapped in a broken system.

Prayer after prayer after prayer goes up. Candles are lit. And nothing changes. We reach out and hold vigil. We have community wide interfaith meetings. And nothing; nothing happens. People die. Children die. Disabilities grow more profound. People lose houses. And our ears are filled with even greater profanity...this is God’s will. That somehow all of this pain and destruction and death and loss and heartache is God’s will. 

Dear one, I wish I had a clear answer for you. There are countless passages talking about God hearing each prayer.  What do we make of this? How do we come to terms with the thought that God is just sitting around and not all of the prayers are making it through? How do we reconcile a loving and powerful God with unanswered prayers?

Dear one, all I can say is that I have to believe that there is an answer...one that I know will make sense on the other side. In the medical world, the first priority is to treat symptoms and then look for cause. You can’t find cause of disease on a dead patient...only cause of death. For example, my child has a life threatening peanut allergy. For this reason, when she presents with hives, readiness, shortness of breath, fuzzy tongue feeling (it’s a symptom, I promise), we give her epinephrine first and ask questions later. We just have to prioritize the order of activities.

Dear one, sometimes, I truly believe, God has a bit of a triage system going on. Not because we are not His top priority, or that he cannot handle it. He prioritizes because we can’t. When my daughter has her reaction, if I think of everything it could and could not be, I would be paralyzed. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t act. I could not give her the epinephrine I have given over and over again. I would be paralyzed by the totality of the possible doomsday scenarios. Dear one, I think our Heavenly Father is doing exactly that for us. He has gifted us the ability to only know as much as we can handle. I don’t think there is some greater plan to this person dying while that one lives, but I do believe the picture is bigger than we will ever understand, and God says “it’s ok, baby, I’ve got you. Rest in my arms, sweet child”, while we learn to come to peace with whatever may have happened, healed or not.

In Love,
JSB




As Always, grab a journal page here!






https://www.bible.com/reading-plans/1809-finding-god-in-the-ruins/day/2