Where is God in Our Pain?

        (This is Day 9 of 31 Days of Our Adoption Adventure. Click here to start at the beginning.)  

            Yesterday’s post was rough. One adoption plan falling through was hard enough. Then we believed we would be adopting a baby girl any day, and that one fell through as well. It hurt. It was painful to hope and plan and look forward to a new baby, and then to lose her. 

Where was God in my pain?

            We started to question if we had really heard God. Initially, we believed He wanted us to adopt two more children, but twice things had not worked out. We did everything we knew to do and the adoptions didn’t happen. I wondered, Where was God?  If this was His plan, why wasn’t it happening? I grieved the loss of that sweet baby girl. It hurt and was almost more than I could bear.

            I read years ago when Martin Luther’s son died, his wife Kate shouted at him,                                                            

                                    “Where was God when our son died?”

            Martin Luther answered,                                                                                                           

            “The same place He was when His son died. He was watching and weeping.”

            Some people think we have a God who is distant, a God who doesn’t care. Nothing could be further from the truth. God is sympathetic to our hurt. When we hurt God hurts with us.

Psalm 34:18 says,

            “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit.”

                                     I love how the Message version puts it:

“If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.”

            
            God was right there when I felt like I was kicked in the gut. He was with us. We trusted He would work things out. He was big enough to take care of Shiya and her baby, and He was big enough to heal my hurt.

            During the next year I saw Shiya two more times. She delivered her baby in early December. In April my husband and I hosted a Passover Seder dinner at our church. Three hundred people were packed in the auditorium. I might not have seen her, except God’s timing is always perfect. I was walking to the back of the auditorium and Shiya walked in, almost running over me. She looked great. She was thin, of course, without her big belly, and she was smiling. Gone was the stress that gripped her face when I was with her in the fall. Instinctively, I gave her a big motherly hug. I was genuinely happy to see her and glad she was at this special event at church.

            The following November I was volunteering in the church toddler room. There were 19 toddlers, with only me and another adult in the room. The room was busy as they crawled everywhere, on the toys, on each other, over to me. I was changing diapers when Shiya came and checked her daughter in to the classroom. The other adult helped her and I don’t think she saw me.

But then there she was.

The baby girl.

The precious, petite sweet baby girl that was almost mine.

            Uncontrollable tears leaked out of my eyes and down my face. She was a tiny beautiful version of Shiya and her other daughter. I checked the sign in sheet. Her name was Angel. What a perfect name for that little girl, since she did indeed look like a perfect angel.

            I can’t explain my feelings except that God gave me a love for that little girl before she was born, and that love did not turn off just because she wasn’t mine. By that time, God had healed my heart. Although seeing her brought back a twinge of pain, I was happy to see her. I was happy for Shiya. I was happy they were both at church. I was happy they looked healthy and were doing well. She made that right choice. I prayed many times for Shiya and her baby girl and I was thankful God gave her the strength to keep her.

            There are not easy answers when we go through painful times. But it is comforting to know we don’t have to go through them alone. We have a God who stays with us and who cares when we cry.

How have you experienced God during a painful time?