Where Was God?

This is a difficult post to write, but it's what is on my heart. Maybe you needed to read it today.

As part of my preparation to be a counselor, I've been studying childhood sexual abuse and the life-long damage it causes. I noticed the past couple of days I've felt a little down, as though God had drifted away somewhere. Today as I was praying about the reason, I knew.

I walked to the woods as images of helpless children abused by the adults who were supposed to protect them flitted through my mind. The grief was so great that tears began to drip down my face. I thought of future clients who will struggle to understand, who will look at me and ask, "Where was God?"

"What do I tell them, God?" I asked the clear blue sky as the tears continued to flow. "What do I say when the tortured eyes of a victim pleads for an answer? It's a good question. Where were you?"

The birds continued to sing their carefree songs and the wind touched my hair as I waited for an answer. "I need to know, God. Before I go into that counseling room and face a question too big for me. I need to hear your answer."

Instead, the tears continued to course down my cheeks and make dusty plops on the forest floor. Why was I crying? My heart twisted with a pain that wasn't mine---and then I understood.

The tears weren't mine, either. God wasn't telling me his answer; He was showing me. The tears that dripped unbidden down my cheeks were his tears. The pain of every victim was his pain. I had prayed to have His heart, to know His thoughts, to feel what He felt for every person He brings into my life. This was his answer.

"You were there," I whispered to the clear blue sky. "You were also there when they tortured and murdered your Son. And your heart twisted like mine is doing, but you allowed it anyway because you want to bring beauty from ashes. You want to redeem, to purify, to bring new life to a deadened soul. No wonder you hate sin so bad. It hurts you too."

The tears dried and once again I could worship a God who hated the pain more than I did.

I now have my answer when the time comes. It won't be words, or a quick fix. I can do nothing to erase the memories, the pain, the shame.
But maybe I can show them God's heart.
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