At the moment she was most desperate, an LDS mom asked why God wasn't helping and wasn't hearing her. That's when her husband asked a question that changed her entire perspective.
Several close friends have confided in me in recent months, all saying something like this, "I am in the deepest pit of my life and God is completely silent."
These friends have widely differing roadblocks causing various sorts of havoc in their lives. They've told me they believe that God is there, but it's as though there is a wall between them and him. They are suffering, deeply, and they feel alone.
I grieve with my friends. If there is anything worse than life kicking your trash, it's the feeling of being alone in the state of being beaten to a pulp. Where's the mercy, the help? Where is God when you need him the most?
I empathize, as these conversations have brought back distinct memories of a period in my life when I felt exactly the same way.
It was a season of endless days where we were stuck at home, unable to go places because my son Jack was overwhelmed, screamed, dismantled things, or kicked children in the head on the playground.
I can still see myself sitting on the floor of the upstairs hallway every afternoon, watching preschooler Jack take one of his three daily baths. I bathed him, though he was already clean, because we were both going stir crazy. Water = sensory goodness. I'd lean against the wall and think, "There's no one to help me. We are stuck and losing our minds and I'm alone."