The Scream of the Suffering

There is a scream that reverberates in the soul during suffering.  Perhaps you have heard it in the whispered "Why's"...  Maybe it echoed in the deep, gasping breaths of someone who was hurting.  But perhaps-- perhaps you have felt it.  Have heard it pounding in your head.  Have had it shaking your insides desperate to get out. 
So very often we push it down in shame, in "proper", in guilt, in frustration, in confusion...
At times it is a never- ending sound that torments.  It can build in intensity until it becomes all you hear -- the numbing of your voice & other's voices & life buzzing around you -- drowned out by the single, agonizing scream of heartache, usually of loss that is either very, very real or at the very least, very perceived to overwhelm your reality.
At times it feels as though it will go on forever.  Hearing anything beyond that scream becomes so difficult that you imagine it will never ever ever go away.  And sometimes that idea - the idea that the scream will be a part of your soul forever - becomes almost scarier than what has happened.
Oh if we only had a scream place, right??  A place where we didn't feel like that scream had to be stifled & shut down only to be ringing in our head driving us crazy.... A place where we could just scream it out and maybe, just maybe it would stop. 
There is such a place.
There is a place hidden away from everything & everyone.  No one else can enter that place with you - and in the hiding away there, it is safe.  You can enter & you can scream & fight & cry all you want. There, I am able to lay down the frustration, the confusion, the pain.  I lay down what is expected of me by others & even worse - the expectations I have for myself.  I lay down the guilt of every. single. one. of those expectations & every. single. piece. of both my real & my perceived despair & loss. I lay it all out & still - still I am protected & allowed to just be.
You see, in my life, time has marched on.  The scream of loss has dulled as I have crawled back into that place over & over & over again.  The other day I felt it rise in my head again while listening to a dear child sing a sweet Christmas song.  Suddenly the scream was there - "WHY NOT ONE MORE FOR US?  WHY WOULD YOU NOT ALLOW THAT FOR US??".  And I felt like I couldn't breathe & certainly couldn't think & my eyes shut in the pain of the scream of the loss of what could have been, what felt like it should have been, what most likely never will be. 
But I took a deep, shuttering breath & felt the tug.
"Come." 
"Come to the screaming place with Me."
So I did.  In that very moment I let go of the breath I was holding, entered the hiding place & let the scream out: "It still hurts so bad!  I still don't understand it!"  And then I took another deep breath...  I looked into the face of the child singing -  I smiled & I thanked God he was there & had a family who loved him... and the scream went away for yet another time.   
It still amazes me that in that place I can let out the scream.  There is no sense of proper there.  No sense of expectation there.  No sense of guilt there.  The loss is shared.  The burden of carrying it alone is lifted. 
Even more amazing - I. AM. INVITED.
And gift of all gifts - You are invited too.   All of us who realize we can't ignore the scream any longer.  Can't dull it anymore with all the good things we try to do to make it go away.  Can't make it dim by any distraction, any food, any tangible thing, any alcohol, any drugs, anything addictive that only distracts instead of allowing us to simply scream it out. 
Did you hear that??
We are told to just COME.  To come because we are the ones weary & burdened.  And He is the steady, able to carry our load. He is the rest, longing to share it with us.  He is the grace - the unearned, undeserved favor.  He is the peace that passes even our frail attempts at understanding. 
Goodness knows we could use just use a place like that.

²⁸ “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. ²⁹ Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."  Matthew 11
(At Eternity's Gate by Van Gogh)