Who here among us has not been broken
Who here among us is without guilt or pain
So oft’ abandoned by our transgressions
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

Tonight I went to see a movie starring one of my favorite actresses. Judi Dench has been somewhat a hero of mine for a long time. I don’t know exactly what it is — her inner strength, perhaps, that shines through every performance, her wit, her talent, her striking beauty, especially at an age when many women just start falling apart,  her class, her power to captivate no matter how small a role she’s playing… Perhaps all of it. I want to be like her when I grow up. Or at least look like her.

Notes on a Scandal gave me a different Judi Dench than I expected; one that disturbed me throughout the film, then left me speechless and in awe of her talent afterward. She plays a discomfiting, complex woman with exquisite deft and with incredibly unflinching humanity. Her character, Barbara, could easily have become a caricature of a crazy spinster, but never does.  She is both frightening and at the same time intriguing. Just about the time you think you’ve got her figured out as the crusty spinster with a soft maternal inside, her behavior turns bizarre and alarming. Just as quickly, she returns to her matronly role, just long enough for you to believe her deviant behavior was an aberration, then she does it again. I’m telling you, disturbing.

I have a struggle with movies like this these days. Being a single-never-married woman in my early 40s, I walk a precarious path between becoming, if only in my own eyes, a truly pitiable old spinster, complete with cat and orthopedic shoes, or grabbing the first man that comes along and settling for a loveless, joyless marriage just so I won’t be alone. It takes a lot of strength, courage and tenacity to stay on the path I’m on and wait for God’s best.  Any film delving into the life of a "spinster" delves into my own fears as well. Barbara’s struggle was with acute loneliness; the agony of a life without true intimacy and human touch. Its a struggle I am all too familiar with.  I’ve felt that agony many times in my life.  It drives many people to seek intimacy through sexual encounters, where ever and how ever they may come.  Thank God it’s driven me into the arms of God, the arms of Jesus, my Beloved. He has met my deepest needs for intimacy, far better than any man could.

There are no strangers
There are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but hallelujah
There are no orphans of God

As I drove home tonight, I wept as I allowed my own fears of becoming a spinster to stand up and say their peace. I’ve spent most of my life shoving my feelings down, ignoring them, denying them or telling them to shut up rather than acknowledging them and letting them have a moment.  I’m slowly learning that the only way to deal with my fear is to face it, let it speak, and then to look at Jesus and say, "now what? Help me."  So that’s what I did tonight.

This song, Orphans of God, by Avalon began playing. I got their CD, Stand, yesterday and it’s been playing in my car ever since.  I wish I could play the song for you here, or at least provide a link to an mp3 file you could listen to. It’s a powerful song I first heard at the Women of Faith conference in Charlotte last year.  It’s especially meaningful to me because ever since my parents died in 2003 I’ve felt like an orphan. All my siblings are married with kids of their own. The only real family of my own I had were my parents. With them gone, I feel — well, family-less. I realize that in reality I’m not, but have you ever noticed that feelings just don’t give a damn about reality? They are what they are and they make no apologies and no concessions for anyone or anything, especially reality.

Come ye unwanted and find affection
Come all ye weary, come and lay down your head
Come ye unworthy, you are my brother
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

As I’m listening to this song and pouring out my fears to God, He just wraps His arms around me and listens.  Slowly, quietly I start realizing that the life I saw played out for the last two hours was a life without God. It was a life of desperation driven by our insatiable need for community and intimacy; a life that never responded to the daily brush of God’s Spirit upon her own. It’s what happens to each of us when we choose to ignore those soft, persistent caresses, the whispered "I love you"s. Eventually we stop noticing His touch, we stop hearing His whispers. It just becomes part of the background noise of our lives, while our pain and our lonliness takes centerstage.

Even those of us who are connected to God, who are followers of Jesus, devoted, faithful, even strong –even we can get so wrapped up in our pain that we don’t notice His touch and His whispers. I’ve been in such pain and depression, in such darkness in my own soul that I could not see my hand in front of my face. Sometimes my pain, and often times my fear, was so strong that God’s presence became just background noise. I could barely distinguish His caresses on my spirit from the searing pain in my heart. And His whispers were lost in the roar of agony. I remember one time, Easter Sunday 2004, finally wailing and screaming to Him, "NOW is the time! You said You would rescue me at the appointed time. Well, that time is NOW. I need you NOW. Come NOW. I cannot do this anymore. Come NOW!"

There are no strangers
There are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but hallelujah
There are no orphans of God

He came. With smoke in His nostrils and consuming fire shooting from His mouth, He came and rescued me. I’m not kidding. I saw it as clearly as if with my physical eyes. I saw it. He came roaring out of the heavens and scattered and routed my enemies — those accusing voices, the screaming fears, the blistering agony of abuse and loss — just as Psalm 18 describes. Then He knelt beside me and said, "I’m hear, baby. I’m here. We’ll get through this day." I was raw with pain, but I wasn’t alone. I never was. And I never will be. He walked with me through that day, and every day since. Including tonight, as my fear got in my face and I let it say its peace.

I think of some of the people I know who are in such pain. I think of the hurtful words I’ve read from people in terrible pain, striking out at those who caused their suffering, not even realizing how hurtful their words are. My heart aches for each person involved. There are followers of Jesus all over the world struggling to hear God’s whispers, unable to distinguish between the caresses of God and the searing pain of their own soul, in desperate need for God to come roaring out of heaven and scatter their enemies, who feed on them like vultures. 

O blessed Father, look down upon us
We are Your children, we need Your love
We run before Your throne of mercy
And seek Your face to rise above

Our pain can lead us to believe we are orphans; that God has abandoned us and we are alone in our fight for justice, for peace.  But sometimes feelings lie. They don’t tell the whole truth of what is happening.

God is already at work, fighting for us, scattering our enemies, putting right what went wrong. He longs to spread a healing balm on our wounds, and cradle us in His strong arms until our tears are spent and we finally find rest. But He won’t force Himself on anyone, even His Own.

There are no strangers   
There are no outcasts   
There are no orphans of God   
So many fallen, but hallelujah   
There are no orphans of God   

I wish I could take away the pain I see written in all the words of so many hurting people! But I cannot. They cry out for justice and recompense, and they are ready to fight to get it. I don’t know that their actions will accomplish anything more than creating more hurt and pain, but I could be wrong. Only God knows these things. I only know I cannot give them what they long for. Only God can. All I can do is cry out to my Beloved, "NOW is the time! You said You would rescue Your people at the appointed time. Well, that time is NOW. They need you NOW. Come NOW!" And then watch Him act.

There are no strangers   
There are no outcasts   
There are no orphans of God   
So many fallen, but hallelujah   
There are no orphans of God

"Orphans of God" written by Twila LeBar and Joel Lindsey, sung by Avalon