Where are You?

As Christians, we know that the gospel is literally the good news of what God has done in Jesus Christ.  We know this cognitively and celebrate it weekly at church.  But, it’s easy to be distracted by chores, career, family, health, everything — so much so that the gospel barely skirts the edge of our minds.  God, in His mercy, knows life is hard and we are pulled in many directions, doing the best we can. But still, how can we live a more technicolor, high-def gospel life?

As much as we hate to acknowledge it, traumatic times in our lives can make God pop off the page, so to speak.  In our pain and desperation, we may dive deep spiritually, reaching-out to God for divine help.   

At the same time, it’s also easy to feel disconnected from God, questioning where He is when life goes sideways.  We can be reassured, though, that God is always with us, even when we don’t feel it.  The last sentence in the gospel of Matthew encourages us, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”  Chew on that a bit:  Jesus is ALWAYS with you.  Always!

For me, I need to rehearse the awesome beauty of the gospel, over and over — tumbling it around in my mind, sifting out ever more gemstones from its message, savoring the amazing truth that Jesus is the lover of my soul, of everyone’s soul.  

In my St. John UMC grief support group, Betty Hertz suggested that we journal our grief.  Thank you, Betty, for helping me along my path of healing.  I dedicate this poem to you.

Where are You?

By Karen Biggs

Jesus, where are You today

In my doomsday disarray?

Will You stay, I pray, or be away?

In the flurry, I hurry and worry,

My mouth turned down

In a heartache-heavy frown.

What do I do now

With that 1-2 punch-pow?

Jesus, where are You?

Getting ready for Your big debut

Seated in the heavenly-high

Like in another-dimensional sci-fi?

But I need You to meet me

Right here under the ash tree

Where I’m humbled in dust,

(A reminder to trust)

Sensibilities slipping into hoodoo,

Personal peace fluttering up the flue too.

I overhear that You aren’t here. 

Will my Dear ever appear?

Jesus, I want to find You,

The Way, the Life, the True,

In my splatter-shot still-life

Dripping with distress and strife.

Come save me, away me

Cast me a glance at least

A dash of Your love unleashed.

Any favor for me to savor

To bless my worn soul,

To make my half whole.

Jesus, come quickly.

The brambles are thickly

Obscuring and blurring

The Life-Love You’re stirring.

Bring courage and repairing,

Your caring forbearing.

Elevate my spirit —

Jesus be near it.

Jesus, You are here.

Enduring every sneer-jeer,

Emptied entirely for all,

Lashes, nails, and bitter gall

You pick up my pain

And bear the dark stain.

Now let me weep at your feet,

With my hair wipe complete.

Forgiveness, wholeness,

Aware of Your holiness,

Ever-present in my aloneness.

Jesus, in the quiet I find You

When I’m catawampus askew

Crying, cat-calling, craving You

Only You, only You will do.