When You Find Yourself at the Bottom
Jasmine Ritchie, an eleven-year-old girl, who lives in Great Britain, has a genetic skin disease called Epidermalysis Bullosa. Her skin is extremely thin, so very delicate, that even a touch can break the skin or cause a severe blister. Her disease is often referred to as Butter Fly Skin because her skin resembles the fine, delicate wing of a butterfly.
Jasmine Ritchie
The pre-teen lives in constant pain and must go through a frequent regimen of wrapping her entire body in bandages to protect her from inadvertently brushing against another person or being touched by someone unfamiliar with her fragility. This process of wrapping her body requires several hours of work every other day, and the pain is excruciating. In order to get through painful bandaging, Jasmine has to be given morphine.
She can only walk a limited number of steps or her feet will blister. Even the inside of her mouth and throat blister, making it painful to swallow. She has had numerous surgeries on her throat to treat the sores in her esophagus.
Jasmine Ritchie
Within a few hours after birth, Jasmine was diagnosed with this rare genetic disorder. About one child out of every 50,000 births will be born with Epidermalysis Bullosa. At present, there is no cure. Her mom and dad and big sister Amelia lovingly help Jasmine get through every day. Without her family, she would not survive. They make all the difference.
I listened to Jasmine and her mother tell her story one morning on the television channel, “Good Morning Britain.” Her forehead was noticeably blistered, her hands and feet were wrapped in bandages, as was the rest of her body under her loosely fitting clothing.
She somewhat casually mentioned that every moment of her life was filled with some degree of pain. She cannot go outside and play with other children. She cannot run or skip or do so many of the things that other kids take for granted.
What did Jasmine or her parents do to deserve such an unfair life? The answer is, of course, they did nothing. Life is often cruel and unjust with no rhyme or reason why things happen the way they do.
When I was a young pastor, I thought that the really bad things that came our way were the result of some sin or personal failure or even God’s will. That may be true some of the time. If we live recklessly, we may very well suffer the consequences. A person who chain-smokes has a greater chance of developing cancer than someone who doesn’t. A person who drinks to excess may become an alcoholic or die prematurely from cirrhosis of the liver. Then, too, as Jesus reminds us in his prayer, God’s will is not always done on earth as it is in heaven.
The fact is, bad things often happen to us through no fault of our own. Listen to the psalmist who believes he has lived up to his part of the faith agreement, yet his world is collapsing around him. In frustration, he blames God for not holding up his end of the deal:
All this happened to us, though we had not forgotten you
or been false to your covenant. Our hearts had not turned back;
our feet had not strayed from your path. But you God
crushed us and made us a haunt for jackals and covered
us over with deep darkness. (Ps. 44:17-19)
The person who lodged this complaint against God was a person of faith. Also, notice that he is not praying merely for himself, but for his people. The psalmist was voicing a prayer of disillusionment with God that others in his community were feeling and experiencing but were either unwilling or unable to pray.
What a wonderful gift to the community of faith to hear one of their own who shares their pain, identifies with them, and says words to God that express their inner-most feelings.
When we go through our own valleys of suffering, we so often feel isolated and alone. To know that there are other people who understand, who know what we are going through, who don’t condemn or judge us but identify with us, gives us hope that maybe there is a way forward. Maybe we can get through this. Maybe we are not alone after all.
I think that is one reason why the psalms are so precious to us. Hope spills out from these ancient prayers by voicing the words we want to say to God but are unable, either because we fear God’s retribution or have grown disillusioned or bitter in our faith journey or are paralyzed by our pain.
By reading the psalms, as well as books like Job, other people of faith join with us, accompany us on our journey, people who know that life is terribly unfair, who have experienced the injustices of life, and have felt betrayed by God. By reading about their sorrows, their confrontations with God, and even their anger directed at God, we may draw confidence that God fully understands our shaky faith. Not only that, but God encourages us to pour out our inner most thoughts in prayer, even when our words may be filled with vitriol.
If your life has been relatively free from tragedy, and feel that God has watched over and protected you, you may find it difficult to identify with Jasmine or others who wake up every day to a life of hardship, suffering, and uncertainty. You may even pick out a few verses of Scripture that seem to justify the cruelties that some people experience. You might even become so convinced that people are to be blamed for their misfortune, you turn your head away when confronted with a tragic figure like Jasmine or millions of others who know little but daily suffering on this tiny planet.
Some people may spend the greater part of their life above the pain-filled world where so much of humanity dwells, like a rock skipping across water. I have learned, though, that the rock eventually stalls and sinks to the bottom. It happens, I assure you, every single time. And when you find yourself at the bottom, it is comforting to know that you are not alone.
There are others who are there with you. They, too, are suffering and hurting. They, too, are confused and bewildered that God appears so inattentive and indifferent. These fellow-sufferers know what you are going through. They will support you when your strength fails, lovingly bandage your wounds, and pray for you when you no longer can find the words.
Jesus reminds us that wherever two or three are gathered together in his name, he is with them (Matt. 18: 20). I understand this passage to mean that wherever God’s people are—be they in a bedroom bandaging a little girl’s skin, or a hospital room where modern medicine can do no more, or a bombed out village in Ukraine or Gaza—wherever there is pain and suffering, because of caring fellow sufferers, God’s presence dwells. Without these people we would not survive. They make all the difference!
