My Dearest Elizabeth,
I will start by simply saying that this may not be the kind of letter your mom had in mind when she asked me to write to you and encourage you in your walk and maturity with God. In this season in my life I’m not the motivational Christian older woman…I’m afraid churches wouldn’t ask me to come and speak at their women’s retreats for every thing I have to say is laced with tears. As I write this tears are falling on my already weathered face.
My heart is heavy dear child and your mom may not want you to read this until you are ready to understand this pilgrimage we are all on. It is not an easy road Elizabeth. The Word tells me that His burden is light and His yoke is easy. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s not true. You may think that I’m contradicting the infallible Word of God but I’m not. He doesn’t promise an easy road, free from pain and grief, in fact He does promise that we are called to partake in His suffering. This road may be easier and lighter than the road of the world, the deprived, unsaved world, maybe, for I do remember that even David asked God how the wicked prosper. I have asked those same questions and He tells me that the rain falls on the wicked as well as the righteous. But I think a little less rain falls on some of us. Few are called to walk in the desert and because the road we travel is deprived of water when we come upon a small puddle it seems like an oasis. I don’t begin to know how He decides who will walk in the land of plenty and who will walk in this arid dry harsh environment. But I have been chosen for such a road. Friends have told me what a privilege it is to be chosen to partake in His suffering and that I should rejoice that I could understand better the words of Paul, for he too suffered much. That may be all good and true but the reality of the hurting heart is that it sucks! I don’t want to suffer; I don’t want to walk this way. I want my feet to point to the lush green valleys of life. Yet here I sit broken, hurting, submitting to His will and purpose for me and I have a responsibility to keep on walking in this harsh dry land.
The last time I had thirst quenching water was a lifetime ago and it didn’t come from a puddle, but from a deep, cool pool and I was able not only to dip my hand for a drink but to cool my body as well. The memory of such luxury is all but faded now and all that remains is what I tell my heart to be true. He is aware of my thirst and pain, but my troubled soul cannot comprehend such truth. I can see how Thomas felt, if only my faith was greater and my flesh would not war with my heart. I know God’s hand is in all…
In all nature,
In all circumstances,
In all my past,
In all my present,
In all my future.
I find myself rethinking and recalling memories of the past and wondering about moments to come and the miles that I have yet to tread, and I lose heart and feel tired and burdened.
Elizabeth I have lived and loved and given birth and put to rest flesh of my flesh, my three year old daughter Naomi. I have also laid to rest next to her small body the body of my husband of 22 years, of the man whose life pointed to Christ, who loved me like Christ loves the church, who un-raped me, whose gentleness tamed my wild heart and my bitter soul. The only man I have ever loved, whose love was so near to the love I have for Christ.
I sit here alone and broken telling myself “Not as I will, but as Thou wilt…”even in my sorrow…”not what I but what Thou.” This shall hallow my hopes, this shall hush my fears, this shall ward off disquiet, this shall calm all my anxieties, this shall soothe my heart-aches, this shall give rest to my weariness and when my sadness reaches the desert of my heart, it shall be the deeper for-taste of everlasting peace and rest…not what I in my misery, and ignorance, and blindness and sin, but “what Thou,” in His mercy and holiness, and wisdom and love.
Sometimes I feel like I’m caught in between darkness and light in a world of shadows, my visibility is limited and I am trusting that though I cannot see, I have a very safe and secure guide but I’m still a bit scared. I do have one word to give you child, trust. Trust that is what He keeps telling me. I trust him but it is me I don’t trust. Death and sorrow are powerful emotions that strip the heart of all defenses, of all common sense, of any protection. Elizabeth my mind speaks logic but my heart has no ears….
I pray my dear one that the road you travel will be lush, abundant, lacking nothing and then you can just toss this aside and ask your mom what this crazy lady is talking about.
Trust, trust that He will give you what is best for what you think is better, and learn to receive His best, to humbly submit with open arms, to weep as well as rejoice that He is your King and to have the assurance even in your darkest hour when the heart is heaviest that you are under His everlasting arms.
In love, in sorrow, in darkness,
Maritza Ray
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