Follow Thou Me

Day 57.

Sometimes life is just hard. It doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem fair, and just plain hurts. You can be going along, minding your own business, having a perfectly nice day, when all of the sudden: WHAM! Someone you love betrays you. Tragedy strikes in your household. Sickness consumes you. Dreams fall apart right in front of your eyes. That which was certain dissolves in confusion and pain, crumbling like a poorly laid foundation, and everything you built on it collapses all around you until your life lies in ruins. And we’re tempted to say, “Oh God, couldn’t You have rescued me before I got to this point? Couldn’t You have led me away from that which would hurt me? Why is this happening to me…again?”

I guess I’ve been believing this whole time that when I became well again and after I’d learned everything God wanted me to learn during this season, I would be given back the things that I gave up at the beginning. After all, I’ve read the story of Abraham and Isaac. I would think, "What a beautiful conclusion to all of this hardship--if God gave back what I gave up for Him!'” But I guess that’s not truly giving up anything at all, and it’s really a rather hollow sacrifice.

I am not Abraham. His journey is not my journey. His sacrifice is not my sacrifice. His blessings are not my blessings. But, His God is my God. So, when the hardest days come and I’m so tempted to compare myself to Abraham, or family members, or even people who seem so very undeserving, I am reminded that God is God of all, and He says, “follow thou me.” 

Even still, there are days when my eyes are so blinded by tears I can’t see the path in front of me. Where fountains of hope that seemed to sustain me for a time, turn back to bitter wells of grief that poison my heart. When that which I had been depending on to get me through this desert, vanishes like a mirage in the sun, and I realize that I’ve been pinning all my hopes on something fallible and finite, temporal and fleeting. (Oh, how very fleeting.)

And still, Jesus bids, “follow thou me.” And I am reminded, “He, whose heart is kind beyond all measure, gives unto each day what He deems best, lovingly its part of pain and pleasure, mingling toil with peace and rest.” There will be bad days, hard days, near impossible days. There will be pain and toil weaved into the tapestry of our lives. To expect a life without hardship is to expect a spring without rain. Some days must be dark and dreary, but the Psalmist tells us, “The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.” Oh God, draw nigh to this broken heart. Get me through the hard days until I can again see the sun shine.

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow