When Darkness Veils His Lovely Face

Yesterday, we had a monster storm here in Cary where we live.  There was golf ball size hail hammering the house and since there was no apparent threat of tornadoes we sat by the window and watched.  

Then today, while driving Eli home from preschool, the sun was shining and the sky was back to it’s happy, blue self.  Being a weather person (or former one), my brain immediately starts thinking about high pressure moving in, and stability, and how long it might be before the next system comes rolling through.  But after all those geeky thoughts, it occurred to me that I couldn’t see the sun or feel the sun yesterday - but it was still there nonetheless. Just as big and powerful and sunny as ever.  That storm just stood in the way. 

There’s an old hymn whose lyrics read: “when darkness veils His lovely face, I rest on His unchanging grace.”

Unchanging grace.  Breathe that in. 

It’s easy to feel as if God is far away, or doesn’t care, or doesn’t listen.  There are bigger things on his plate.  But what if I could simply rest in the fact that God is still God – no matter what – perfectly constant and steady.  His grace is unchanging.  I am His daughter and His love for me is unwavering.  His promise to never leave me or forsake me is truth – and it’s a truth that I can stand on through anything and everything (Hebrews 13:5).  This truth and this grace is unchanging.   

Maybe we can’t see him or feel him, and maybe it seems like we’re talking to air – but it’s this knowledge, this faith, in our head and in our heart that assures us He is here.  He does care.  The same God who parted the Red Sea, who healed the sick, who raised the dead – He loves me and He is on my side.  He heals the broken hearted and comforts the mourner.  He is good. 

We’ve been riding out a pretty heavy storm for a while now.  It seems like forever.  Surely high pressure should be moving in by now.  I try and remember what life was like before cancer, and even though I have plenty of amazing memories, I honestly can’t remember what it felt like.  What does it feel like to not have the shadow of death looming over us?  What does it feel like to celebrate a birthday or a holiday and not be constantly wondering if it’s our last together?  What did that feel like?     

We are continually praying for an awesome miracle.  In the meantime, we know and we trust that the God of the universe holds us close and feels our pain.  He knows the agony of suffering.  We also trust that this is only a temporary storm, and that eventually we will be perfect and complete lacking nothing! (James 1:4)  Darkness may veil His lovely face for now, but someday there will be no storms and no shadows – only radiant light and perfect blue skies.