Judith Part 2.

I rememeber reading a news story a while back of a cleaner in an office complex that found a woman slumped in her office chair in her cubicle late that evening. A postmortem indicated she had died just after lunch on that Friday. But no one noticed. No one said “have a good weekend,” or any other farewell message. She just died alone in her office cubicle, unnoticed.

For so many, the ache of loneliness becomes a silent companion. Those sleepless nights, the solitude of an empty bed, the pervasive mistrust, and the ever-looming fear of what tomorrow holds—all part of an unending hurt. When did this loneliness start? Perhaps in the innocence of childhood, amidst the turmoil of a divorce, after the kids left home, or at the doorstep of retirement, or within the shadows of a cemetery.

Maybe, like Judith Bucknell, (yesterday’s devotional) you’ve managed to deceive everyone around you. Outwardly, you’re meticulously put together—the quick smile, the stable job, sharp clothes, trim waist, bustling calendar, brisk walk, and impressive talk. Yet, when you face yourself in the mirror or find solace in your solitude, the facade crumbles, and the pain reveals itself.

Alternatively, maybe you don’t attempt to conceal it. Perhaps you’ve always been on the outskirts, an observer rather than a participant. Awkward conversations, seldom requested companionship, dull attire, and common looks. Does this strike a chord with you? If so, if you’ve nodded or sighed in acknowledgment, there’s a crucial message I want to share.

The most heart-wrenching cry of loneliness echoes not from a prisoner, widow, or patient, but from a hill, a cross, a Messiah. “My God, my God,” he screamed, “why did you abandon me!” (Matthew 27:46). Those words carried unimaginable hurt, emanating from the loneliest being in history.

Picture this: on Calvary’s hill, the sin bearer stands alone. Every lie, every coveting, every broken promise rests on his shoulders. He becomes sin for us. He is treated as we deserve, so that we might be treated as He desreves,  and God turns away. The despair is darker than the sky. The unity of the Trinity dissolves, and Jesus, who had been with God for eternity, is now alone. The two who have been one are now two. The Christ, who was an expression of God, is abandoned. For that moment the Trinity is dismantled. The Godhead is disjointed. The unity is dissolved.  It is more than Jesus can take.

He endured beatings, faced mock trials, watched friends flee, endured insults and nails, but when God averted His gaze, it became too much! “My God!” The wail rises as the holy heart breaks, and the sin bearer wanders in the eternal wasteland.

I struggle to comprehend it, sincerely I do. Why did Jesus do it? Yes, I’ve heard the official answers, like “to gratify the law” or “to fulfill prophecy,” and they are correct. Yet, there’s something more, something compassionate, yearning, and deeply personal here. What is it? I might be mistaken, but I can’t shake the image of Judy’s diary, her plea: “I feel abandoned. Who is going to love Judith Bucknell?” And then, I think of parents grieving a lost child, a friend by a hospital bedside, the elderly in a nursing home, orphans, and those in cancer wards. I envision all those casting despairing eyes toward the dark heavens, crying out “Why?” I imagine Him listening, misty eyes, a pierced hand brushing away a tear. Though He may offer no answer, solve no dilemma, or thaw the frozen question in midair, He, who was once alone, understands.

Two questions the psalms ask repeatedly are “why?” and “ How long?” Questions asked to express desperation amid sufferings and trials. Read and pray through these examples: Ps 10 and 44 (Why) and Ps 13 and 35 (how long). There are many more. Praying the psalms gives voice to your own wordless groanings. Jesus prayed Psalm 22 from the cross. Read it and notice the change of tone from v22. In the Greek translation of 22:31 are the words “It is finished.” Your salvation is assured despite your circumstances!

This broken world does its best to break us, but this is His final word to the curse of suffering perpetrated by the devil in heaven, “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared…” Revelation 21:1 “He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever. And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” And then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” Rev 21:4-5. “And there shall be no more curse.” (Rev 22:3)

The most exciting thing about heaven and the new earth is not what it contains, but what it doesn’t. No more death, no more pain. No cancer diagnosis’, no more separation from loved ones, no more divorce, no more loneliness, no aging or walking frames, no more pills or hospitals, no more mangled cars, no more… well you can make your own list of no mores.