Softness, joy, kindness, and just a hint of mischievousness peeks out of the deep blue of his eyes. Sandy hair blithely caresses his forehead, while his casual grin captivates my heart. My hand gently wipes the fallen tear from the glass of the photo frame as I place it back in the box, closing the lid. How many tears tell the story of suffering in seasons of silence?
Though taken more than thirty years ago, it remains my favorite photo of my son. One of the few portraying his sweet, sensitive, kind nature, I return to it as a means of anchoring my heart when grief overwhelms my days.
Sadly, not long after that picture was taken, he suffered an unspeakable trauma while we served on the foreign mission field of Albania. One that claimed the boy in that photo, but not all at once; a slow fade, it would be another twenty years of addiction and self-destructive behavior before the truth forced its way free.
suffering in seasons of prayer
Over the years my prayers felt much the same: a slow fade. Zealous at first, full of determination, armed with scripture, I stormed the throne of God. Confidence in God’s soon answer to my prayers for my son, my faithful intercession recruited friends, family and often strangers.
The tremendous support and comfort of notes, phone calls and quick visits assuring me my son’s name bombarded God’s ears regularly, sustained me many months. Until, slowly the notes waned, calls and visits stopped and our family’s situation became “awkward”.
Looking back over twenty-five plus years, I fidget. Hotness rising in my cheeks, my eyes scan the floor, like so many other times over the years as I sat with yet another revelation. Many would say God was actively answering my prayers, but all I saw was the endless unravelling of pain.
A crisis of faith forced a clearer view upon me.
Join me over at my good friend, Dawn Ward’s blog, Faith to Flourish for the remainder of my story of suffering in seasons of silence. Learn how my crisis of faith taught me more about God’s love for me than any other season of my life.
Tears are welling up as I read your story, Donna. I’m so sad that this situation hasn’t resolved by now. I know God has heard your prayers and has refined you through this waiting period. Thank you for your example to me along this journey. I continue to pray for God to refine me for his use to love those he puts in my path, even when several are missing in my path that I want to love.
Thank you, Lisa for taking the time to read my post. I’m afraid my story has many painful chapters like this one. Even more important than knowing there is purpose in pain, is knowing the God who allows the pain, is good. I try to live in that space though I have no idea where my son is or if he is well;having not spoken to him in some years. I trust God’s goodness in the harsh reality that out of my 3 children only one is in my life, and out of my 4 grandchildren, only one fills my arms.
Of course knowing grief is love with no where to go, I minimize my grief by loving others God brings into my life as fully as I would love my own.
Oh Donna, I’m so sorry that you and your family have had to endure this suffering for so many years. Your parents’ comment about God saying no hurts my heart for you … I know we as parents often get things wrong, but to see such an obvious impact of that is gut-wrenching. It is encouraging to see how God has used this in your life even as you wait for His restoration. This, especially, was helpful to me: “Let go of your desired outcome, surrendering to God’s chosen outcome. Seek opportunities of serving others in the same situation. Still waters stagnate, actively nurture your own spiritual health.” Hugs, dear friend.
Lois, your kind words speak life to the dry places of my soul, thank you. A true comfort is knowing God wastes nothing in our lives, but redeems everything, even those wrong words. I praise God that even in the sharing of pain there is Grace.
Thank you so much for sharing your and your son’s story. Somehow I had gotten the mistaken impression that your son was no longer living. But then I saw the comments about praying for his restoration. So I took a moment to pray for him and for you just now.
I don’t know all the reasons for what seems like a delay to the answer of our prayers. But surely what you mentioned is the biggest one–the refining of our hearts as we wait in prayer.
One verse that gives me much comfort and that I pray often for one of my own is Philippians 1:6: “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”
Thank you Barb for your kindness in praying for my son and me today. God uses these prayers at just the right time to encourage and strengthen us on these long journeys. We cannot always understand the ways of the Lord, and especially His chosen ways of delaying answers to prayer, but we can trust His heart. I love that verse in Philippians, as it so reminds me of His tremendous faithfulness in all things.
Donna, I cannot imagine the pain and sadness you have endured. It is one thing to have our own trauma, but another as a mom to watch a child go through such pain. I prayed for the Lord to reach him, to heal him, to restore him not only to Himself, but to life and health and wholeness. May your words and experience encourage many to not grow weary, to keep on asking, and to keep trusting the Lord. May God bless you, sweet friend!
Joanne, I am truly grateful for your kind words and especially your prayers for my son. Over many years it is hard not to lose hope, but God is faithful and always brings others along to help and encourage. Thank you for being a part of His lifeline today. I know He wastes none of our pain and sorrow, and may He use my story to bring comfort to others.
I’m sad for the pain the unspeakable trauma brought to your son’s life, and to your Momma’s heart. I weep with you for his heart, soul and mind to be restored the Lord and to his family. I pray for the destructive work of the enemy to cease and restoration to come forth in his life.
The Refiner’s fire has brought forth beautiful insights, “Sanctification, the work of a lifetime occurs on the hard paths, in the darkest nights, and in the long seasons of waiting. God tirelessly purges the dross of our lives away. Viewing the difficult seasons through the lens of sanctification [which] moves us to the action of a willing participant in God’s transforming work of love.”
Thank you, Lisa for your heartfelt compassion and kindness in response to my post today. I am comforted to know someone else is willing to enter into my pain and pray with and for me and my son. I praise God for His promises, and the knowledge that He will waste nothing in this life to perform his perfect work in conforming me to the image of Christ.