Image courtesy of Bethany Walter Photography

He sat apart from everyone, resting his forehead in his hands, not listening to the conversations or looking around at his friends. His unusual behavior signaled something was wrong. I made my way to him, squatting beside his small chair and leaned close. “Hey buddy, what’s wrong?” I asked him. He shook his head and didn’t answer. “Are you ok?” I asked again. He finally lifted his head and met my eyes. “I miss my mom,” he whispered, and a tear escaped, falling fast down his cheek.

My heart broke. He was only seven years old and his mom had passed away two years ago. He’d never said anything to me about it but clearly he was upset this morning. I couldn’t help it, I hugged him, my tears matching his and we wept together for the dear life lost to him.

I ached for him and his pain.

He isn’t the only one hurting. This past week, two of my dearest friends welcomed new babies into their lives. One mama is at home with her newborn, snuggling him and their other children but facing physical challenges with herself. Nothing major, but struggles nonetheless.  The other mama is healthy and whole but received the most shocking news of her life when her baby was born and whisked away to the NICU where he will spend the next few months unless God intervenes and he goes home sooner than expected.

Two mamas. Two beautiful babies. Both of them experiencing suffering on different levels right now.

If only we lived in a world that made sense where parents and children didn’t lose their lives unexpectedly, where suffering didn’t happen, where hurts didn’t touch our hearts. If only we didn’t experience pain or trials.

But if we didn’t experience pain, we would never know the depth with which God loved us. We would never know grace or mercy or comforting from the Holy Spirit when our world is crashing, sending us to our knees.

I hate that my student is hurting. I hate that my friends are hurting. I hate that I’ve felt that hurt after losing my mom and sometimes am still hurting.

But to be 100% honest with you, I experienced a love like I’ve never felt before in that deep place of pain. Where earthly words could never comfort me, the Holy Spirit comforted me with a peace that didn’t make sense, a peace that passed all understanding.

Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals, met me in my deep pain, promising me the pain would pass and joy would replace the mourning. He assured me He knew how I felt, having also lost life when Jesus suffered tremendously and died on the cross. Jesus rose three days later, defying the laws of man and proving life isn’t over at the grave but is eternal.

My student will see his mom again and I’ll see my mom again in Heaven because we trusted Jesus as our Savior and He promises a reunion for believers. God will heal my friend and my other friend’s baby.  But how does that help right now in the midst of the pain?

Here are some verses I clung to during my dark days, both when I suffered severe anxiety during my pregnancy with the twins and again when I lost my mom. I hope they help you in your dark hours to remember you aren’t alone in your pain and that its only temporary.

 But now, O Jacob, listen to the Lord who created you.  O Israel, the one who formed you says, “Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters,  I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.” Isaiah 43:1-3a

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still. Exodus 14:14

If you know someone struggling, share this with them. Let them know they aren’t alone in their pain and there are others saying, “Me too! Me too! I’m hurting, too!” There’s comfort in unity, knowing others have gone before us in a place of pain, gone through deep waters and not drowned or walked through fire and not been burned. You are so loved and this pain you’re feeling stinks. It’s hard and it hurts. But it is temporary. Even though it feels like forever, it will end and we will rejoice together that the waters did not drown you and the fire did not burn you either.