Praise God

Phil 4:4. Psalm 52:9; 75:9.

Paul says to rejoice in the Lord always. He even repeats the command-"and again I say, rejoice." The Psalms declare praise of God forever.

I wonder, in the midst of despair, of darkness, of sadness, of heartache and woe, of misery, is it possible to rejoice in Him? Can we praise Him at all times, even when we don't feel like it?

Sure, it's easy to accept the good from the Lord and give thanks unto Him for the many blessings He has bestowed upon us. When we can eat our fill and have fine houses and clothes for our bodies and shoes for our feet, when we are surrounded by family and friends and can fellowship with one another, it's a right and good and easy thing to rejoice in the Lord. It's also easy to forget the Lord too. (Deut 8). Be that as it may, when times are good, it's by far easier to rejoice in the Lord and praise His Name.

Now, on the other side, when we are overcome with grief, with sorrow, with bitter tears, with anger at the unfair taking of life, with thoughts of unspoken words, last memories, things that will never be done, how can we rejoice? If the command is to rejoice always, that means to rejoice at all times. In good and bad. In joy and sorrow. In times of plenty and times of want. Always. Don't rejoice only when you feel like it.

And yet, how can I? In my head, I know it is a right and good thing to praise God for the good and the bad. Shall we accept only the good and not trouble? (Job) And in my heart, I am grieving. I am unable to summon the joy of the Lord. And even if I were somehow to do so, would it not be a betrayal of my emotions? Should I not allow myself to grieve? What is it about her passing that leaves me empty of joy?

It has been said that we should rejoice at a death (not necessarily the manner of dying) in much the same way as we rejoice in a ship coming back to port. For we know that the passengers are safe and have come home. So too at death does the person finally arrive safely home. And at a birth, we should be sad and anxious just like we are for those leaving on a ship. For we know not what storms and troubles will come their way on their journey and if they will make it safely back home.

How completely contrary we treat the opposite ends of life. Birth is received with joy and death with grief. There's no getting around that. Life is celebrated. And it should be. I wonder, can we understand death as a part of life? That death is not the end but merely a transformation? The body goes into the ground, the soul returns to the Source from whence it came. And where the soul is, there is only goodness and joy and light and no more weeping or sighing or bitter tears. Shouldn't we be happy for that soul? Shouldn't we rejoice over that fact? I don't know.

I believe that we weep here on earth for those left behind. The dearly departed have no more pain, but we do. We weep for ourselves. We also weep because the departed will never experience certain things that we and they wished to. At least, not with us. We feel a keen sense of loss. There's so many things left undone, left unsaid. It pains the heart to know that nothing will be the same again. And so we weep, we mourn, we grieve. Even though we ought to praise God forever and rejoice in Him always, how hard it is to do so.

Lord, help us to be ever mindful of You, even in the midst of the darkness. Even though our hearts are weary and heavy laden with grief and sorrow, let us never forsake praising Your Name, just as you promise never to forsake us. I will sing the praises of the Lord even though my voice and heart break. Amen and amen.