The first two are little easier to comprehend. We know the importance of encouraging those in need as well as exhorting those who are about ready to quit. My parents, in love, offered me comfort and encouragement. They also, in love, pushed me from time to time much like a coach who's trying to get more out of his players.
But the third response is the most troubling of all. Jeremiah pours out his heart to God in chapter 20. He puts it all on the line, stating his wish to have never been born. You can't get any more honest than that. Yet, there is no response from God. Nothing. Nothing but silence.
Strange as it may sound, I can relate to that. All of us can. More than likely, we've experienced times when we could not do the one thing we wanted to do more than anything else--rescue a loved one. We have all had to watch someone for whom we care deeply suffer without being able to do anything to alleviate their suffering. Nothing can be said, nothing can be done. But that doesn't mean love is M.IA. Far from it, we're probably closer to our loved ones when we aren't able to rescue them. Our hearts ache, our spirits groan under the weight of watching and suffering with the person in pain.
So perhaps there is suffering this side of heaven for which there is no easy answer. There is stuff from which we can't be rescued. But that doesn't mean God is far from us. I want to believe he's closer to us than any other time, suffering with us, aching, and hurting. The cross seems to suggest that this is the case. Christ cried out, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me. There was no answer. But it's here that we encounter a very powerful mystery: suffering was taken into the very heart of God. This mystery tells us that we are not alone. God sees, God knows, God suffers with us.
Peace,
David S.