A View From There
A View from There is the product of a time in my life when I was furious at God. I questioned His judgment, and I told Him as much.
He had taken someone from me without warning. My grandma, along with my grandpa, had raised me from birth. She was my mother, my best friend, and my rock. I leaned hard on her. And in the blink of an eye, she was gone.
My two girls were tiny little things. I was still new to the job of being a mom, and I needed my mom. Slowly I sank into the deepest, darkest pit of my life. It was a place of profound loneliness and suffering, and I was almost positive I could never forgive Him for what He had done.
I spent a few long weeks giving Him the silent treatment. I remember feeling His presence in the room with me and yelling at the ceiling, “Leave me alone! I don’t need You here!”
But the more I yelled, the more He whispered my name. The harder I pushed Him away, the closer He pulled me nearer. At the time, it was annoying. Today, when I look back, I find those encounters beautiful. I had initiated an obstinate standoff with the Creator of everything, yet in spite of it all, He was undeterred in His relentless pursuit of my heart.
Bit by bit, I began to understand, even if I could sit down with Him face-to-face and listen as He explained why Grandma had to go away, I would still be confused. I would still be lonely. I would still be angry. My heart would still ache with the same ache. I realized that the only way I would ever understand would be to see it all from His perspective—to get a view from Heaven and look down on this crazy, broken-up puzzle of life from there. Only from the magnificent heights of that place would I be able to see how every piece, even the sad, jagged ones, fits flawlessly into place.
But since Heaven is there, and I’m here for now, I don’t get to understand it yet. Honestly, sometimes that’s ok with me, and sometimes it’s not. But when it’s not, I get to rest in the comfort and peace of arms that will never let me go, even when I pout and pitch fits and scream at Him through ceilings.
A View from There was born from the deep places of my grief, and, eventually, the peace that found me there.