When God is too small

I'm free-falling over the darkest space I know.  Betrayal opens wide and threatens to swallow me whole as my deepest fears dance before me and threaten to become reality.  Sharp, jagged questions rip at my body but do nothing to orient me to reality, nor to hint at which way is up.  Balance gone, moorings failed.  Fear rips through my body and escapes my lungs in a desperate cry for help. 

I know there is hope.  Somewhere.  But grasp and flail as I might, I can't find it.  Terror rushes past my face as I force my eyes open because I know that truth exists and I desperately want to catch sight of it.  

Hope is believing that God will come to the rescue in the face of a still desperate tragedy.  Hope is knowing that the biggest story will have a beautiful ending full of poetic justice, satisfied wonder, and deep, bubbly joy. 

Trust is believing the only One who has ever passed through Death and come through victorious when he looks you in the eyes and says, "This death holds no power over you!"  Trust is knowing that God wraps himself around the ends of eternity and understands, even orchestrates, every last thing that seems hopeless and unfathomable for your good and for his glory. 

Somewhere in this truth, I start to find my bearings again.  I remember that the best weapon against despair is to praise.  But in this darkness, praise is my fiercest battle.  The doubts are louder than my faith.  The lies seem more real than the truth.  The fears are stronger than my trust, and I have a choice to make.  I chose to fight.  I don't always; there are times I just give up because that is so much easier, but this time, I fight.  I praise the just, faithful, loving greatness of God because I know it's there, not because I can see it. 

The pain crashes down one last time on my soul, but comfort trickles in behind it, wrapping around my heart.  Stars pierce the darkness and I can see again.  The bigness of God spreads out before me like an endlessly clear northern night, and I'm in awe at how vast it all is and how small everything else seems in comparison. 

My soul still hurts, but I can breathe again.  My heart is raw, vulnerable, alive.  This is what growth feels like.  Trust begins to take root again, sinking deeper into the cracks formed by doubt and drawing life out of the brokenness.  This is for my good and for God's glory. 

This is always for our good and God's glory.