A place of simple rest and dependence. Psalm 116

 I had the privilege of sharing deeply real, open fellowship with 3 friends in the new community this week. Each seemed disconnected; we spoke 1:1, but the conclusion was the same each time. Our confidence is in God, and in this we are full of joy and settled. The first was grieving the loss of a loved one after a tragedy. The second was grieving the loneliness of grief after losing a family member. The third was grieving age and the care of someone who will not recover; this side of being with Christ. 

Psalm 116:7

Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the LORD has dealt bountifully with you.

The theme of the psalmist appears to be (v. 1) whether the LORD has heard us or seen our trial, but the greater reality is us hearing or seeing the reality of his presence and salvation. 

Each of us who grieves is lonely, goes through dark seasons, and feels our isolation and the depth of our struggle as we process. The question remains: do you see, hear and know my experience, LORD? We need human company; regardless of all we have in the LORD, it is a human condition to want company. It is not good for us to be alone. The best of new communities understands this. We don't treat the grieving as a project or process; we are brothers and sisters who cry together. (Romans 12:15) However, it is ultimately God alone who can restore us to rest. We can share with others, and they understand somewhat. We can receive love from others, and they can, to an extent, show love. The understanding of God and the love he shows us, the listening comprehension he displays, is on a different level. The cross of Christ, the salvation of God, encompasses all our brokenness, overwhelmedness, trauma, grief, suffering, social distancing, incomprehension of brokenness, fallenness, and decay. Our God is good and never anything else. All of our experiences, however bad, are resolved ultimately in his redemption. He chose to take such on himself, alone. This is love. We didn't love him, or listen to him. He loved us first, and listened to our cry on the cross as he cried out in our place. This is love, not that we had an ear to him, but that his heart, plan, and invitation were unreservedly open to us. 

All thanks be to God. Rest in him whatever restlessness you are challenged with. Trust in his eternal, faithful, unchanging character, plan and listening ear, however long your season of illness, care, loss, or darkness. He is the bright morning sun that will never cease to shine (Rev 22:5). His death and resurrection assure us that his heart is with us, his way is for us. One day we will sing the same song of Joy in the presence of all his people (18) and comprehend how big and how open his heart and ear have always been and will always be.