2 Corinthians 1:3-5

God of All Comfort

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 5 For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.

This week occupied my mind heavily with matters relating to my singleness, the glaring intensity of a minor state of psychosis, and genuine disappointments in the world.

I don’t know where to begin, but since High School, I have been nearly rejected by every girl I have ever approached, or at least shown interest in. If that was not the case, in rare circumstances, the opportunity for developing a relationship would evaporate and fall apart by the demands of life pulling us apart.

Genuine weeping and deep grief would follow through with me for nights for up to several weeks, and night terrors relating to any conversation during the final separation would wake me up in the middle of the night unable to return to sleep.

During my phases of mourning and laying in bed, depressed, with hope slowly blowing away out of my hands like dust, I began to recall on the account of the Lord, who has never left me nor forsaken me, no matter how perverse or sinful I was, and how many times I had to repent and receive the Lord’s forgiveness for succumbing to sin. And by His goodness, like a hurt son going to his good Father, the Lord shows his way.

For example, I asked Jesus Christ to point me to the Father, knowing that no one goes to the father except through Christ. And when Jesus abides by his Word, the process of healing usually begins by random memories that the Lord places on my heart that is dear to me during childhood, like fast-food.

The Lord prompted a memory of when my grandparents would take me to Burger King or McDonalds, and our trip there would be so innocent and free of worries of the world. It was during the late 1990s, when I was still a small child, before the concepts of transience and a blistering fast-paced adulthood was burned into me now as an adult, at 31. I allowed the Lord to walk with me through the memories of when He was present with me, and I continued to thank Him for remembering the love of the family He placed me in, for I am aware that there are other friends I made in my childhood who did not have the same upbringing and support, and had to suffer then, and now in adulthood.

In Psalm 44:1-3, David writes:

Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy.

I cry–the Lord hears me. I call when my heart is faint–the Lord puts me to a rock that is far higher than I am. He guards me–for my enemy is overwhelming and outnumbering me, yet He silences the voices of my accuser.

And like how my hope flew out of my hand, the Lord begins to wipe the tears off of my face, promising that He has a plan for me, plans for my welfare and not for evil, to give me hope.

Then as I rock back and forth in my bed, I began to sense a peace, after being soothed by the presence of the Holy Spirit, as He helps me recall of His mighty deeds and wondrous love for me.

With the way the world is heading off to and my understanding of it, I genuinely have no idea whether it is in God’s plan for me to have someone to spend life with while on this Earth. Yet each night I know I sleep well, knowing that Jesus never will leave me nor forsake me.

Amen.