There is not enough consolation in the world for all of the sorrows and all of the sufferings and all of the misery yesterday holds. Life is all of the descriptive phrases we can bring to bear. It is both wonderful and horrible, exhilarating and depressing. The birth of the new born, the death of the aging loved one, the tragedy of natural disaster and the triumph of freedom from tyranny all happen daily. Now deals with the today built upon the shoulders of yesterday. For some the heights of glory are too much to contain. For some the depths of desperateness make continuing seem futile.
There is not enough consolation in the world for the twenty something year old law enforcement officer with a one year old son who comes upon the scene of an automobile fatality and sees his wife’s car crumpled next to a broken utility pole. With a horror beyond my or your imagination, he must look into her lifeless eyes, mentally begging for the miracle only hope can ask. How does life continue? How does today have value when it is built upon that moment from yesterday?
The questions, the broken-heartedness, the void of normalcy, the repeated explanations for those who have just learned, are all more than one soul can bear. No amount of bravado, calm strength or macho resolve can hide the agony of the severed union. “Till death do us part” is suddenly and overwhelmingly real. To imagine raising the joy of their lives with his best friend no longer there is not yet thinkable. Finding hope is beyond the realm of today’s possibilities. Breathing is hard. Crying is not. Needing to have the security of the Savior is the urgency of the moment.
So the man of God will cry out in desperation, pleading for more than is allowed. Knowing, that life has boundaries, is not the same as expecting them to be far in the future. Physical strength is built day by day through the exercise of muscles and deliberate repetition of activities to build upon the efforts of previous days. Spiritual strength often comes at the expense hopes and dreams, desires and plans. It is when the soul is exercised past its capacity to place events in proper perspective with the known will of an Almighty God. Creator, Master, Lord, Savior and now Consolation of the injured soul. Still His name is Wonderful.
Intellectually having many things to say for the reconciling of a situation is a basis of knowledge. Having the insight to the appropriateness of when not to say them is wisdom. The soul in bewildered despondency is not beyond consolation, but is often comforted with the presence of silence while surrounded by the love of closest friends. Some may not have the wisdom to remain silent while their minds are filled with platitudes meant to help. Silent rage, patient tolerance and feigned listening all occur while open ears stop the words before they are processed or responded to.
The old men will dream dreams, so says the scripture. Young men will see visions. Dreams of glory days restored. Dreams of victories over battles. Dreams of peace with the God of the universe remembering their surrender to His will. Visions are future hopes and possibilities. Devastating blows to the hopes of the future which has envisioned joy and bliss, shatter the imagined path of life. Purposes are questioned and hearts unsettled. There is not enough consolation in the world for all of the sorrows and all of the sufferings and all of the misery yesterday holds.
Then, it is after all, Yesterday. “Yesterdays are gone” the song writer pens. And tomorrows may never come. Teach me today to take every day, one day at a time. Give me the strength to face every day, one day at a time. There is not enough strength for some days. There is not enough vision to foresee the devastation of some days. There are days when dreams cease to be dreamed. There are days when young men feel old and sorrows are not put off until tomorrow. Consolation is best from the one who gave the promises, provided the hope and has the power to change hearts.
There is not enough consolation in the world for all of the sorrows and all of the sufferings and all of the misery yesterday holds. Unless it is Jesus. Unless it is in the repair of our mental hearts. Unless we wade through the screaming agony of hurt to open the heart to the possibility that there may be life yet to live and joys to be known and victories to be won and dreams to be dreamed, by old men who have learned to rejoice after sorrow and trust in the true and living Savior. There is no other consolation.