This Is Not The End Of Your Story

I can remember looking out the rainy window of a third story IV clinic. I was back in an iron infusion chair that I thought I would not ever have to see again.

The iron treatments were not working.

The day before I had got the results from my CT scan that there was a rather large endometriosis deposit inside my body.

The doctor spelled out what this meant and the prognosis was not good. If they had found some, there was probably more and it was very difficult to get rid of. It meant on going, sometimes debilitating pain that was mostly incurable. Pain that regular pain meds would not help, pain that I was already dealing with, and it was only going to get worse.

As I stared out the window into a rainy afternoon I felt a deep disappointment with God.

This was not how my life was supposed to be going.

How could this be the life I was asked to live? I had gifts and talents, I had something to offer - why had I been sidelined?

Why was God not helping me, healing me? How was my body supposed to take any more pokes and prods and surgery after surgery?

The bleakness of that moment makes my chest feel tight, even now almost a year later. And as I reflect on that moment, I can hear these words arise in my heart,

“Eloi Eloi lama sabachtani”

The words Jesus cried on the cross.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Jesus felt abandoned by God, too.

Most of His friends had abandoned Him, the people He came to save were mocking Him. His fragile human body and spirit were splitting and bleeding under the weight of all the sin of the world.

The words Jesus cried out on the cross were from Psalm 22. King David, hundreds of years earlier, had felt the same way Jesus did.

It is part of human experience to find yourself in a moment where you cannot see the end. David Jeffreys calls it being “inextricably middled and hence muddled”. And, in moments like these, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachtani” seems to be the only thing to say.

When the New Testament quotes the Old Testament it is often just a sentence or two but their intention is to reference the whole passage or story where that sentence is found. By quoting those 4 words, Jesus is saying so much more.

It is a Psalm about desolation but also triumph. It is heart breaking in its pain but by the end it speaks of feasting and praise.

Hanging on a cross Jesus cries out in anguish words from a Psalm that ends with, “He has done it!”

It is a declaration of faith in a God whose faithfulness is being put to the ultimate test.

By crying out these words, Jesus is proclaiming that this sin, death, and pain are real but that they are also not the end of God’s story.

And this moment is not the end of your story.

Jesus’ declaration on the cross was a devastating moment in a story more grand and beautiful than anyone knew. It was a moment essential to the resurrection and saving of all creation, rewriting all the destruction that had come before. The glory of God was soon going to be displayed in a way that no one could have even imagined.

So - in the morning when you wake with pounding heart and unsure how to survive the day, at midday when you are aware of the fragility of your body and spirit, in the evening where the grief threatens to swallow you whole or in the night when you wake with fear of the future- you can cling to this hope and cry it out into the darkness -

“This is not the end for he has not hidden his face from [me] but has listened to [my] cry for help.” (vs.24)

My story, the one where I was sitting in a chair, was not the end. In about a years time I was able to receive procedures and surgeries that did away with iron infusions and endometriosis pain.

And, even if the endometriosis comes back, I will know that it is still not the end.

If you are reading this and the words of Jesus resonate with you - I want to say that I am so sorry that you are experiencing pain. I too have found myself in a new story that I cannot see the end of either. But you and I, together, can cling to the things we know to be true about God.

As you weather your own story know that Jesus understands. Jesus was there and Jesus IS there with you, right now.

Let the hopeful words, at the end of Psalm 22, encourage you,

They will proclaim his righteousness,
    declaring to a people yet unborn:
    He has done it! (vs.31)

We can trust in the goodness of God, even when we cannot see the evidence of it.

So cry out and wail, scream out the disappointment because Jesus’ shows us we can. But Jesus also shows us that the disappointment does not have the last word because we follow a God that has invited us into his great and glorious story and is present, in that story, with you now.

This is not the end of your story, hang on, dear friend. This will not be the last word.

“Psalm 22
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me,
so far from my cries of anguish?
2 My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,
by night, but I find no rest.[b]
3 Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One;
you are the one Israel praises.[c]
4 In you our ancestors put their trust;
they trusted and you delivered them.
5 To you they cried out and were saved;
in you they trusted and were not put to shame.
6 But I am a worm and not a man,
scorned by everyone, despised by the people.
7 All who see me mock me;
they hurl insults, shaking their heads.
8 “He trusts in the Lord,” they say,
“let the Lord rescue him.
Let him deliver him,
since he delights in him.”
9 Yet you brought me out of the womb;
you made me trust in you, even at my mother’s breast.
10 From birth I was cast on you;
from my mother’s womb you have been my God.
11 Do not be far from me,
for trouble is near
and there is no one to help.
12 Many bulls surround me;
strong bulls of Bashan encircle me.
13 Roaring lions that tear their prey
open their mouths wide against me.
14 I am poured out like water,
and all my bones are out of joint.
My heart has turned to wax;
it has melted within me.
15 My mouth[d] is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth;
you lay me in the dust of death.
16 Dogs surround me,
a pack of villains encircles me;
they pierce[e] my hands and my feet.
17 All my bones are on display;
people stare and gloat over me.
18 They divide my clothes among them
and cast lots for my garment.
19 But you, Lord, do not be far from me.
You are my strength; come quickly to help me.
20 Deliver me from the sword,
my precious life from the power of the dogs.
21 Rescue me from the mouth of the lions;
save me from the horns of the wild oxen.
22 I will declare your name to my people;
in the assembly I will praise you.
23 You who fear the Lord, praise him!
All you descendants of Jacob, honor him!
Revere him, all you descendants of Israel!
24 For he has not despised or scorned
the suffering of the afflicted one;
he has not hidden his face from him
but has listened to his cry for help.
25 From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly;
before those who fear you[f] I will fulfill my vows.
26 The poor will eat and be satisfied;
those who seek the Lord will praise him—
may your hearts live forever!
27 All the ends of the earth
will remember and turn to the Lord,
and all the families of the nations
will bow down before him,
28 for dominion belongs to the Lord
and he rules over the nations.
29 All the rich of the earth will feast and worship;
all who go down to the dust will kneel before him—
those who cannot keep themselves alive.
30 Posterity will serve him;
future generations will be told about the Lord.
31 They will proclaim his righteousness,
declaring to a people yet unborn:
He has done it!”