The contradictions of suffering and hope. 6 stanzas of every imaginable depredation. All from God:
- Being driven to a dark place
- Having flesh age and body broken, without comfort
- Being walled in
- Body attacked like an animal attack, or being shot with arrows
- A crucifixion-like picture, pierced with a sword, drinking bitter herbs and gall, mocked
- Loss of status and wealth, teeth broken in the dust without hope.
Then reviewing and remembering through it all, that it is from God, and having hope.
Saying “His love never fails, his hope is new every morning”
Familiar verse, but what a context.
And it reminds you of Jesus, of his loss of status, God in human flesh having his flesh whipped and cut.
I’m in a bit of mental anguish, blindsided by the loss of my job. Coming to it this way, I feel a bit guilty – its not the worst suffering in this world by a long shot. A friend at work who works a lot with the Aboriginal community tells me worse stories without trying to, every time we meet.
At a certain point am I rejecting hope? Refusing God’s grace by continuing to feel sorry for myself? Where does lament end and hopelessness start?
I am so downcast, I’m still in denial really. I’m not taking it well.
I’ll pray. I will.