Why do you complain, Jacob? Why do you say, Israel, ‘My way is hidden from the Lord; my cause is disregarded by my God’? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. — Isaiah 40:27-28
Have you ever felt disregarded and abandoned by God? Hard seasons have a way of messing with our hearts don’t they? Difficult seasons that don’t pass quickly leave me with complicated questions that lack tidy answers. Some seasons have been more intense than others. Fireflies in June often remind me of the night I nearly threw in the towel regarding my own faith in God.
For months that turned into years my husband and I had been holding out hope we would finally get to become parents. I longed to see two little parallel lines on the the pregnancy test but instead each month was greeted with just one. I can’t begin to recount to you the number of tests that were taken and precariously held up to the light, hours after they were administered, in hopes that maybe it just needed more time. No matter how much we prayed, how much time lapsed, each month was a painful disappointment after another. Infertility is a rollercoaster that is both exhausting and isolating. While close friends and family knew of our struggle, they couldn’t feel the pain of the monthly heartbreak we were walking through. There was physical exhaustion too. Monthly doctor visits, scans, countless needles, and harsh medicines that thinned my hair because they were also used to treat cancer were part of the process. My poor husband had to deal with my out-of-control hormones that never took us anywhere good. The door to parenthood just would not open for us.
Yet for others it did.
I learned to build a quiet fortitude that enabled me to attend baby showers, outwardly celebrating those who were beginning families while inwardly questioning God. What was so wrong with me that God would disregard me like this? Self-fortitude can only hold up for so long. Mine collapsed when we learned we would not be the first ones in the family to make our parents grandparents. It was not my best shining moment. I wanted to celebrate, wanted to be happy, but physically all I could do in that moment was cry with uncontrolled guilt and grief. Guilt because I could not feel happy for those I loved and grief because I felt overlooked by God. I was utterly devastated spiritually.
Brokenness led to sleepless nights and unrelenting soul ache. Tired of wrestling and frustrated I could not sleep, I went to my backyard one summer in June angry at God. Truly it was a dark night of the soul. My whole life seemed to pour out before the Lord as I pleaded with Him. I didn’t mince words or hide my bitter disappointment. My lot in life felt unfair—painfully unjust. I loved the the Lord. I served the Lord and had trusted Him through many hard things that came before this one. So why wouldn’t God answer me on this? In my pain I even questioned if God were real, if He was who He said He was? I was beginning to wonder if trusting God was really worth the effort.
That’s when I looked up.
All around me early morning darkness fell like a blanket yet glittered with light as thousands of fireflies lit up the sky. In spite of the pain I sat in, I couldn’t help but be awed into a peace that truly surpassed my understanding. Anger began to subside as my prayers shifted. “Lord, you are good,” I whispered. “Even though this doesn’t feel good.” Those fireflies in June reminded me of who God was and who I was not. They reminded me that in the darkest of night, God is my light and hope. Troubles are momentary but God is eternal. God’s ways and thoughts are not my own—they are much higher. They are altogether trustworthy. In that moment I was reminded that God had not disregarded me at all. God was with me.
God was with me all through that next year when my husband and I navigated the birth pains of adoption and eventually brought our little boy home. Never was there more rejoicing than when we celebrated my son’s first birthday in that same backyard I had questioned God’s goodness in. God’s plan was just far better than I could have dreamed or imagined.
So I love fireflies in June.
Today, in the twilight of the fading day, as my two boys chase fireflies that come out to play, I remember God’s goodness. Now, throughout the years, and especially then—when the pain had been so great that it had darkened my ability to hope in God. In hard times I don’t understand I am learning to lean into His nearness. God is very good. God is also our strength—God keeps us. If you feel like giving up on God—don’t. Just lean in.
“He gives strength to the weary
— Isaiah 40:29-31
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.”
