Meditations on Mother's Day

I have three grandmothers whom I love and am thankful have loved my parents and have loved me. My own mother passed away eight years ago, and I had many teachers, mentors, and friends who have been strong and influential females in my life since then. And now my wife is a mother-to-be.

It is my wife that I think of most, partly because I live with her, but also because I love her and we're both excited for a child to enter our lives. My wife, not unlike my own mother, is a tortured soul who struggles with depression and the unceasing pains of this world. I do not know firsthand the struggles of motherhood, but secondhand I do have a sense of it. From the failed leadership of men and the darkness in the hearts of all humans, this world is a broken, painful place. We learn from Genesis 3:16 that the consequence of sin and a fallen world is pain in childbearing. And we know that goes beyond birth. Humans are difficult; raising and loving them is especially hard. So this mother's day, I'm particularly attuned the pains and the darkness my wife struggles with as a human being and as a child of God preparing to raise a child of her own.

I want desperately to take away the hurt and the darkness, but that isn't my role. It's not my place because Jesus has already taken the hurt and the darkness away. . . or at least, he's overcome them and promises that our lives will be free of them entirely when he returns. The point is, Christ has done it: he's conquered sin and he's set us free (those who heed the call to follow him to freedom, anyway).

 It is thus I have come to meditate on Psalm 22 for Mother's day. This psalm is written by the king of Israel, the leader of God's chosen people, the ones he swore he would save. Though the pen was in David's hand, the heart is actually the same as Jesus, the everlasting king of God's chosen people. Jesus famously calls to his Father in his dying hour "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" But he also says "It is finished." They are not unrelated. 

 

David, like Jesus, like my wife, calls out to God in anguish--true suffering, a pain and a sense of isolation and loneliness, like God isn't there. "Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?" The psalmist, like my wife, calls and calls and feels as if there is no answer. When Jesus said these words he was bearing the full wrath of his Father, wrath he didn't deserve. David often suffered from wrath he didn't deserve (although he did earn his fair share), and my wife suffers from pain and wrath she doesn't deserve (though again, she's sinned and fallen short like the rest of us and does deserve some wrath--the wrath Jesus bore, actually). David continues how he cries to Lord and he hears no answer, how by night he finds no rest. Restlessness is not uncommon for a pregnant woman. Restlessness is not at all uncommon for mothers who worry about their children. And for my wife, it's not uncommon because her mind and her soul are often ill at ease with uncertainty, loneliness, and depression. Her suffering is not unlike the suffering of kings, of David, of Jesus. So we suffer. We call to God. And we feel he doesn't answer.

Yet, he is holy. He has answered the call of many before us, many who trusted in him. David references the patriarchs, like Abraham, who was promised a son that didn't come until he was over 100 years old. Abraham who tried to cheat the system, who received a son in his old age, a son he was told to give up to God so he could see God's mercy and see that God himself would provide, not just any lamb but his own son. Or Jacob, who was tricked into servitude by Laban, Jacob who had tricked his own brother out of his birthright. Jacob who lost his son Joseph and thought him dead and found him alive and thriving in the land of Egypt. Or Joseph, who sought the Lord and was beaten, sold into slavery, imprisoned on false charges and was raised up to save thousands of people. Yes, God delivered the fathers of Israel, because they trusted in him. David knows this. Jesus knows this. My wife knows this. But it doesn't make it any easier when you're in the midst of your suffering and God the deliverer seems so far away.

So David, God's anointed king, cries that he is a worm, not a man. How must Jesus have felt, harassed and abused, betrayed and abandoned by his friends? How does my wife feel, isolated, alone, abandoned by God? But David still cries to God to stay close, to be near. There's lots of pain in his world, just like there's lots of pain in my wife's life, just like Jesus had all the pain of the world cast upon him on the cross.

 

"I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax, it is melted within my breast." The imagery speaks for itself. Weakness, hopelessness, emptiness. God, it seems, has left, laid us in the dust of death. "Lord, do not be far off!" David cries, "come to my aid, deliver my soul from the sword." In desperation, David cries to God to come. What more does God want from us than to yearn for him, to seek him and love him? The pain of our sin is such that we often wait to seek God until we're desperate, dying, hopeless, but God is still always there. David knows this, he says how God has rescued him before. Jesus knows that even though he is suffering God's wrath, that his father loves him and will come to deliver him. My wife knows that God is there, that God is good, he's come through so many times before. But he still wants us to call to him, not to take him for granted, not to forget him and trust in our own strength. Our own strength will lead to death and more hurt. But God's strength is great. So great. God saves, we know that. Praise God! Praise Him, David says. Stand in awe of him, we know he's holy and good, we know he is glorious.

In fact, David says, he has not despised the affliction of the afflicted. And Jesus knew that. God knows our sufferings, he bore them himself on the cross. He knows. Remember that. Turn to God in your suffering, he knows what you're going through. He's gone through it himself. He's a worthy ruler to follow, and all the families of the nations will worship him, not because he's egotistical, but because he's good, he's suffered with us. He's suffered for us. Praise God! To the people who have seen his faithfulness before, to the people who have not yet been born again to a living hope we can say with confidence that He has done it.

David knew that God had a plan to save him. Jesus knew that God would instate him as king over all, even as he cried out in agony and death. What was Jesus doing on the cross? He was finishing the work that needed to be done. God planned it all along so David could accurately write that He has already done it! For us, God has not only known, but Jesus has already died and raised to life! And that's the best hope I can offer my wife. God has done it. She is not forsaken and abandoned to die, she is already saved.

So to my wife and other mothers who cry out to God "Why have you forsaken me?" will always get the same answer, no matter how different the process. "He has done it." It is finished, Jesus says. Perhaps that answer doesn't seem satisfying, or even logical at first glance. But God wants us to come to him, to call to him, to love him. Love is hard. It is suffering and pain. God seems far because we are far from him in our hearts, but because Jesus has done us we can draw near with boldness and hear him say"I haven't forsaken you, I have saved you. I have done it."