The pit is where we find Him.
I imagine it’s where He likes to pace, anticipating our fall into depths of pain and ache that find no solace other than the dank cement under our feet. It isn’t that we hit the bottom with a thud. No, it’s that we climb down there to find a way out, and all we find is nothing.
But He is there. That is how our Father is. He crafted us knowing where we’d end up. It seems odd that a loving God would let us choose the pit with the dark, dank cement. What was He thinking when He decided to let me choose, knowing that I am such a screw-up, a failure, and a nobody who would walk into a pit day in and day out thinking it was something new? It never is. It’s always the same, and sometimes it feels like someone throws us in there. It feels like rock bottom is a stop on a tour that we can’t get out of, with a pit waiting just for us.
Maybe we’ve climbed in ourselves. Maybe it’s as though someone tossed us in. Whatever the case, we find ourselves there, and all we do is face the wall. We keep our hands against the cool rock, grasping for a crevice to cling to so we may lift ourselves out. You would think we learn, for we know that it isn’t that easy. Getting out takes two people, and we’re alone. We’re facing the wall, hands against cold rock, grasping for anything that will pull us out of a situation we don’t want to be in. We want hope, and we’ll claw until we find it.
But remember—He’s there. Pacing quietly, maybe even standing patiently. As busy as we are trying to climb, claw, and fight our way out, He is waiting for us to turn around. It takes another Person. It takes Someone else to lift us up. He is our hope, and in this moment of pain and hopelessness, He knows the way.
It takes another person, remember? We need His strength to get us out of our pain. We need His hand to guide us the right way. We need His comforting arms to wrap us up and remind us that we aren’t a disappointment to Him. We need His hope to get us out of whatever pit we’re in because He is the only One there with us through the midst of it all.
Your pain is not unseen. Your frustration is not unheard. Your cry for help is not ignored. He has never left you, not for a moment. What’s more—when we do find ourselves in a pit of some fashion, He anticipated you being there. And He decided to meet you. You just have to turn around. Get away from the cold, unwelcoming wall, and see Him. He isn’t distant. He’s ready whenever you are.
You are someone to the God who made you. He always knows exactly where to find you. Even the pit that you don’t want to be in, He knows the exact moment when your feet hit that cold, wet floor. Every moment in your life is known to Him. He’s seen your pain. He knows the way out. His way doesn’t promise a life without pain. He doesn’t guarantee you won’t see yourself in a pit again anytime soon. But He does promise to be with you, always. Until the end of time.
And when you’ve lived a life walking by His side, seen the depths and experienced the glories of joy, your soul will find eternal joy with Him. He promises us that. A wholeness never seen on this earth, a place where no pit can swallow you whole, and everlasting hope that frees for all eternity. It’s worth every moment. Even the pits we fall in.
He is with you. Always.