Hope in Abandonment

A friend of mine lately introduced me to the following poem by Rumi:

One night a man was crying,
Allah! Allah!

His lips grew sweet with the praising,
until a cynic said,
“So I have heard you
calling out, but have you ever
gotten a response?”

The man had no answer to that.
He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.

He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls,
in a thick, green foliage.

Why did you stop praising?”
“Because I’ve never heard anything back.”

“This longing
you express is the return message.
The grief you cry out from
draws you toward union.”

I was struck by its relevance to my life, especially right at this particular moment. However, my overriding reaction was one of disgust. what sort of evil, twisted relationship forces you to be grateful for and take comfort in a sense of abandonment? Everything about that is wrong, and unhealthy, and sickening.

Then i read the following:

proverbs 27:6 — Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy.

Let me begin by throwing this statement out on the table: I feel incredibly wounded by God right now. Maybe that sounds like a heretical thing to say: after all, God is perfect and can do no wrong, so how can He act in a way that is hurtful to us? But no matter how perfect God is, I most certainly am not. Neither do i have His perspective or His knowledge. Regardless of the heresy factor, I feel like He has abandoned me, broken promises to me, lead me wrongly, and left me in the dark. Right now, my biggest struggle has been a daily fight not to give up. I have to actively choose every moment to believe in His goodness. I have to actively reject the sneaking suspicion that keeps rising in the back of my mind that He is capricious, flighty, careless and selfish. And at no time is this struggle more difficult than then i compare my feelings of abandonment by Him with the actions of some others in my life lately who have actively sought to pursue and comfort me, but have done so by encouraging destructive behavior. “profuse are the kisses of an enemy.”

“faithful are the wounds of a friend” — im coming to terms with the fact that its ok to say that He has hurt me, that i am hurt by His actions towards me. What is not ok is to lose faith in the fact that He is faithful, and that His wounding me is for my ultimate good. im going to type that again, because i need to reinforce it in my mind. He has hurt me deeply, but He has done it for my good, even though i dont know and cant imagine what that good is, or why He is doing this to me. If all i have to hold on to is that simple knowledge, then i’ll hold on to it as long as possibly can, and hope and pray that He doesn’t leave me in this place one second longer than my strength to hold on will last.

i know ive been brutally honest here, and a lot of what i’ve said is far from bright, hopeful, sparkly encouragement. But i’m finding hope in this place, however minute, and i desire that these words somehow communicate a sense of that to you as well. feel free to discuss.

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incidentally, here’s another brief poem by Rumi that i enjoyed:

I called through your door,
“The mystics are gathering
in the street. Come out!”

“Leave me alone. [you answer]
I’m sick.”

“I don’t care if you’re dead!
“Jesus is here, and he wants
to resurrect somebody!”