A woman enters the chapel holding a well-used, tattered Bible. She had nearly worn it through with her reading. Passages were highlighted and underlined, notes were made in the margin and prayers permeated every fiber of its pages. The Bible was gripped so tightly her knuckles were white. Approaching the front of the chapel, nearing the altar, the woman cried out. Her jaw was set and her cheeks tear-streaked. With all her might she flung the Bible down on the ground and addressed her Lord.
“What is the purpose of this thing?! Are these stories just here to mock me? Stories of all the miracles you can do but won’t?! Sarah – an old woman given a healthy, beautiful child and becomes the mother of our faith. Hannah - the barren woman is given a child, a strong and mighty prophet, even. Elizabeth – the woman said to be barren is filled with the child who heralds the coming of our Lord. Mary – a woman who hasn’t even known a man is filled with a child by the power of the Holy Spirit. Miracles and healings, and births abundant are here in this book, yet this world is filled with illness and death and grief and women who cannot conceive.”
She sighs, lowers her eyes and weeps bitter tears. She is in great anguish and struggling deeply. She has wept countless times for a great many people, but today the pain she feels is her own. There is a deep, inner turmoil that she must express, that she must bring to her Lord.
“Do you think that this struggle will make me leave you?! Is it possible that you allow a trial to take place to test my faith?! Do you expect me to refuse you, or to call upon another?! No, I tell you. I will not leave you. I will not forsake you. I will not deny you by any means. Though my health may fail, though all around me perish, though my womb remain void of the child I so desperately desire, though my dreams be shattered and taken away, I will cling to you. Though the battles round me rage, though I be cut down, though the storm takes everything I own, still I will cling to you. You are my Lord, there is no other. Nothing will tear me from your arms. Here I stand, I can do no other, heaven help me, amen.”
She opens her eyes. She didn’t even realize they were closed. She is not in the chapel at all, but in her own home. She has poured out her soul to the Lord, has fought a battle which threatened to consume her, and arisen stronger than she ever knew she could be. It is a battle that rages each month, one whose fierceness is determined by what she has encountered along the journey of life, and is most fierce around the solstices when she is already engaged in spiritual warfare. The battle often leads her to question her relationships, her body, her sanity and her faith, but always the battle is won and she stands victorious in the end. The questioning only lasts for a brief time, but God’s steadfast love endures forever, and in that love she places her trust.
This is the story of my heart, a look at my faith and one of the struggles I face. May all who come to read it know that you are not alone in whatever struggle you face. May you know that you can bring anything to your Lord and Savior. May you know that you will never be rejected, but will always be met with open arms from a God who loves you. And may you know the peace and hope that flows from the heart of the Beloved this day and forever more.
For we also rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disapoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. (Romans 5:3-5)
Amen.
