From Complaint, to Battle Cry, to Quiet Whisper

By Liz Rossow

Romans 8:38-39 has come to mean a lot to me over the last few years. This verse demonstrates that nothing can come between me and my Lord. This is very important to remember when you are hours away from your family, when schoolwork feels like it is going to crush you, when friendships become complicated, when homework and late night rehearsals mean you are running on two hours of sleep, when figuring out your career is difficult, when you are so helpless the only thing you can do is scream at the sky.

I have repeated this verse over and over, getting angrier and angrier more times than I’d like to count. This is a great screaming-out-in-defiance kind of verse. It is a cry-because-this-is-the-only-thing-left-to-do kind of verse. I read Romans 8:38-39 with this emphasis:

I remember, one night I was in the chapel at Concordia University, St. Paul with some of my friends after an evening service. I was just so frustrated with stuff going on in my life and in the world that I went into the sanctuary and just started pacing back and forth. (This is what I tend to do when I get really worked up.)

Soon enough my friends noticed and a few came to see what was wrong. We ended up alternating between laying on the floor and storming all around the chapel. In the process, I was reminded of this verse and I started screaming it.

It felt great. 

God created us as emotional beings, and I let my emotions out at God. I was mad. I felt abandoned. I didn’t understand what was happening. How could God let these things happen? How could God abandon me this way? I screamed out this verse as an accusation. This verse promised that nothing can separate me from God, yet I felt completely isolated.

Sometimes we feel we should keep some of our emotions hidden from God: anger, sadness, loneliness, and any other emotions we perceive as “negative.” Instead of hiding these emotions, bring them to Jesus. They are not “bad” or inherently “evil” emotions. They are part of your human experience.

And they were part of Jesus’ very human experience. Jesus was angry (at the cleansing of the temple). Jesus was sad (Lazarus’ death). Jesus was lonely (in the Garden).

Jesus certainly wants to participate in all the happy, joy-filled times, when you just want to sing, “How great is my God!” And Jesus also wants to be with you in all the angry sad times, when you are screaming defiance. Jesus understands. He is there to listen. And no matter how big the emotions or overwhelming the situation, nothing can separate you from the love of Christ Jesus. 

As I screamed in frustration that night in the chapel, I realized my complaint had become a battle cry, a cry against the darkness; not because I had the power to do anything about it, but because I knew, no matter how abandoned I felt, I had something to hold onto. A promise to fall back on. No matter the situation, no matter how far away God felt, I knew that Jesus was near. I was screaming defiance into the darkness, confidence in the promise in spite of my present experience.

Eventually, I wore myself out and my friends were there to act as God’s arms and wrap me up in a hug. Even when I felt abandoned, God showed up for me in my friends. 

There is a modern hymn I sing in a similar way to the way I say Romans 8:38-39. In Christ Alone by Adrienne Camp and Geoff Moore is one of my favorite songs that I somehow forgot about, until a random Monday morning when it was played in chapel. I had to go to my next class wiping tears away.

The last verse (in my dramatic emphasis) goes like this:

The promise of Romans 8:38-39 is very clearly set before us. We can’t control the craziness that is the world (no matter how much we try), and when we are completely overwhelmed, we are still able to go on.

Why?

Because that is the power of Christ. No power of hell, no scheme of man / can ever pluck me from His hand. / ‘Till He returns or calls me home / here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.”

Jesus steps in. Jesus takes our fallen, broken selves who have no strength to take a step forward or even stand, and hold us. Jesus then sets us on our feet and walks forward with us, not using our strength, but using his.

Psalm 23:4 says, “Even when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for you are with me, your rod and your staff they comfort me.” Jesus walks with us in whatever valley we are going through; he is there to comfort and support.

So when your anger finally burns out and you sit down after all your pacing, you fall into the arms of a Christ who loves you, and who is strong enough to hold you up, without you even doing anything. 

I love reading Romans 8:38-39 as a defiant battle cry! But the other way I read this verse is in a quiet whisper. After all the anger, after all the defiance, after all the fighting, when there is nothing to be done but curl up in the arms of Jesus, this promise still stands.

Then I can pray, in a barely audible whisper, “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” 


Editor’s Note: Liz is currently studying to be a Director of Christian Education at Concordia University, St. Paul, MN. She is one of the contributing authors to The Emotional Devotional: Following Jesus in Every Emotion.

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