I received a message through my Instagram account the other day, and something in it really struck a chord with me: "I wasn't ready, yet", she said. I've said it, and maybe you have too. How many things do we not feel ready for? I know for me, the list would be pretty extensive. In this particular case, she wasn't ready for words of hope—because sometimes, we feel the need to flounder in our grief and pain as we grapple with reality. We wrestle with our shocking feelings surrounding painful circumstances, and need to spend some time there.
I can relate. I have my own lapse between discovery and the quest for healing. Or maybe that lapse is really just the very beginning of the process that leads us to healing. When we receive shocking news—whether betrayal in our marriage, the death of a loved one, a serious diagnosis, or some other painful discovery, our initial response is not usually acceptance—that comes later in the grieving/healing process.
It helps to know this is a natural response for most humans. It doesn't make me a bad person or a bad Christian if I spend a little time between discovery and acceptance. It doesn't mean I don't believe God is good—but it does mean my faith in His goodness is being called to the test, even as He patiently waits for me to learn to trust Him with this hard news.
The truth is, when I hear something especially difficult, I like to nurse that pain for a while. Whether it's minutes or days, those feelings match the bad news. I need time to properly grieve those hurts and disappointments before I feel ready to move on and move forward—maybe you need this space too. But even in those days of nursing my wounds and floundering in my feelings, I'm still so deeply touched with His tender presence—giving comfort until I'm ready.
I lost a dear friend this week, and I wasn't ready to hear she had passed away. I had hoped for healing—healing that would place her back in this world—healthy and whole and pouring herself back into her family and friends once again. We prayed and we believed, yet God took her home. I feel pain over our temporary parting—space is needed until acceptance comes. God knows. He understands our need for this time, yet it won't stop Him from planting precious truths into our hurting hearts. This is the soil needed for future acceptance—knowing He deeply cares for our hurts and pains.
Maybe you're somewhere between hard news and acceptance. Maybe you're wrestling with the darkness of those painful feelings—the deepness of grief. Maybe you don't even want to think of God, and are pressing against His longing to comfort you. If He is in control, then He could have allowed a different outcome—different news than what you're facing. Does He care for your hurt and pain, and does He understand the feelings we face as we grieve? He does, friends, He does.
We need days where we wallow in the bad news and we ask God, "why?" And while it's a natural part of the process of grieving, let us not stay stuck there. The truth is, bad news will come to us all at some point in our lives—and it seems more and more often as we age. Sin has broken this world, and it's broken us, too. That's why we desperately need Jesus—the God of all comfort.
Maybe today you don't feel ready to accept whatever it is you're facing. Maybe you just want to nurse your pain another day. Maybe you aren't ready yet—ready to move forward. To accept. To heal. To trust God with your broken heart. Maybe today, hope doesn't feel possible. But tomorrow is a new day. Pray about your heart. Know that Jesus cares so very deeply for you. His ways are best, even when they hurt.
We don't always need to know why, but eventually we must accept the present reality. We must remember God's faithful love, and that He works all things for good–even when it doesn't feel good. One day, you'll be ready, and one day you'll look back and see how far He's brought you. Don't spend too much time wallowing and nursing your pain—you have big things He has planned for you—things you don't want to miss. You aren't alone in this—He is always with us. So today in that space between hard news and acceptance, may you feel His love beckoning you to trust Him. May you learn to lean into His tender, strong arms and carry you through. He is our Good, Good Father—every single moment of every single day.
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4, ESV).
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds (Psalm 147:3, ESV).
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