I saw the tears of the oppressed—
and they have no comforter;
power was on the side of their oppressors—
and they have no comforter.
2 And I declared that the dead,
who had already died,
are happier than the living,
who are still alive.
3 But better than both
is the one who has never been born,
who has not seen the evil
that is done under the sun.
and they have no comforter;
power was on the side of their oppressors—
and they have no comforter.
2 And I declared that the dead,
who had already died,
are happier than the living,
who are still alive.
3 But better than both
is the one who has never been born,
who has not seen the evil
that is done under the sun.
Chapter 4 begins with an honest look at the oppression and grief in the world. Solomon says:
Again I looked and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun:
I saw the tears of the oppressed—
and they have no comforter;
power was on the side of their oppressors—
and they have no comforter.
and they have no comforter;
power was on the side of their oppressors—
and they have no comforter.
He doesn't shy away from the truth. He doesn't sugar-coat it. Some of the things we see on this earth are just heart wrenching. To fully understand the human experience, and even more so God's love for us and His sacrifice and design for us, we have to understand just how miserable it can be without Him. And hardship doesn't just go away once we have Christ either. The black keys can sure play louder in our lives at times than the white keys. Solomon says, it's tough being human! Can I get an "amen"?! We are told that we can find perfection down here, but we cannot. The hurts and pains will not go completely away until Christ returns. But in the meantime, we have the Prince of Peace, the Comforter, the Calmer of the Seas walking with us and living inside us.
2 And I declared that the dead,
who had already died,
are happier than the living,
who are still alive.
Solomon knows it, and so do those who have lost a loved one. How much greater it is to be with Christ in paradise than to be stuck in the muck of this earthly life! Being alive is not the best place to be, and he reminds us that we can be glad for those who have gone on to be with the Lord. No more tears, no more strife, no more worry. All joy.
3 But better than both
is the one who has never been born,
who has not seen the evil
that is done under the sun.
And those verses sure came as a shock to me when I read them. The Bible mentions miscarriage here. It talks about the person who did exist but who was never born. And how that person is better than the living AND the dead because they never had to even endure this earth. The literally get the best of both worlds! What a comfort when I'm tempted to stay stuck in the "what might have beens".
I'm not sure why it has taken me almost thirty years to get this, but for the first time, in this season of my life, I'm finally surrendering to the fact that life is hard. I keep thinking that when _____ happens, then I'll be happy and content and satisfied. But it's not true. That's a lie.
A week ago, Josh and I went away for three days together. We had accumulated a bunch of points on a credit card that we knew we were going to cancel in the upcoming week, so we decided to cash in all of our points and really live it up for the weekend! We stayed at a five-star hotel, surrounded by beauty and absolute comfort, and we ate incredible food with flavors I'd never tasted and drank impeccable drinks. It was the high-life. And yet, even in the midst of "perfection," I worked my way into a major funk on Saturday. I was experiencing the top that this world has to offer, and yet my heart was heavy about some other things in my life. I was running in the five-star spa and workout facility all alone on Saturday afternoon, but soon tears were streaming down my face and I was over-whelmed with loneliness. This isn't supposed to be like this, I thought. Isn't this moment right here what we humans strive for? Why isn't it filling me the way I thought it would?
And then I realized what I had thought. Of course it's not filling me! It can't. The only thing that can fill me is Jesus Christ -- all other attempts are just a ruse. My pain is real, and it won't be mended by some five-star fancy attempt to patch it up. The only one who can do that is Christ.
So there on the treadmill, I asked Jesus to carry my pain. He had carried it before, but I'd taken it back. I heard Him whisper to me "I'm right here, Molly. You're not alone." And suddenly all the fanciness found its way back where it belonged: as something to be enjoyed, not exalted.
As Solomon reminds us, life is hard. This world under the sun does not have the cure for our pain, our worry, our loneliness, and our sense of worthlessness. It's good to surrender it all to God and to admit that we can't carry it. Because, we can't. Only He can do that.
I don't have all the answers. I don't know all the whys. But He does.
And He carries them much better than I ever can.
Molly Monroe