In the lion's den

I spent several days last week, before and after Christmas, in the lion's den. Bully grief shoved me from behind and I fell into the pit. They were long, terrible days of emotional and mental war with grief in the dark confines of the den. There are times when the grief is so overwhelming that all I want to do is die, to commit suicide. I don't want to leave my husband and family, but I just want the pain to go away. Last week was the third time I have felt like that since our son died.

The lion's den is a dark, foul place. The battle of the finite mind against the truth of God's Word echoes with deafening roar in the pit. Your eyes see nothing, only darkness, while your hands grope frantically about seeking to find anything of comfort and familiarity to grab hold of. The reverberating lies of the enemy bounce off the ears and clang with acute sharpness in the mind. Mercifully, however, the hand of the God of hope reaches out and takes a firm hold of yours. His calm, unhurried whisper brushes next to your ear. Suddenly, the noise of grief is drowned out by the words of the Comforter. "Be still."

God's voice, through His Word, comforts His children. ^"For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart." (Hebrews 4:12) God knew. He knew where I was. He knew what I was thinking. He knew what I was feeling. I was not alone in the lion's den.

God's Word is the light that pierces the darkness. Truth is the slayer of the liar Assassin in the pit. But truth does not stand alone. Just as Batman has Robin, Truth has Hope. Hope is what gives you the strength to crawl out of the pit, with Truth pushing your backside up and out of the lair. 

I managed to get out of the pit. I turned on the praise and worship music and shared what I was feeling with my husband. The LORD gave me the key to escape when He reminded me to focus on Him, to worship Him, to pour out my heart to Him in honest lament. What is brought into the light cannot be hidden by the dark. The journey of grief is indeed dark at times, but the words of Corrie Ten Boom are wise: "When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don't throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer." Giving thanks to the LORD, for He is good. (Lam. 3:19-26)