God's Promises?

Several posts back I mentioned a bible study I was beginning. I've had 2 weeks to complete 5 days worth of lessons, but despite the ample amount of time allotted, I have had quite a struggle completing them. I find myself staring at the same passages over and over not understanding how they apply to my life because they don't seem to hold any truth in them for me.

The passage that particularly bothered me was Psalm 121:5, 7. The Lord protects you; the Lord is a shelter by your right side. ... The Lord will protect you from all harm; He will protect your life.

If He's by my side, where was He the day Levi was born and died? I felt no comfort from him that day. All I remember is pain and angst. Where was he the day of Levi's funeral? I stood there in my pain, physical and emotional, trying to be strong for my son and feeling utterly alone.

If He protects you from all harm, why am I suffering from emotional harm? The word all encompasses emotions as well as the physical. Why do my thoughts plague me at night and when I'm alone? I feel no protection in that aspect.

If He will protect your life, what about Levi's life? Didn't his life count for something? Why wasn't he protected?

Why is it that I can believe all this stuff my whole life, but now that a real tragedy has struck my life, I have a hard time holding on to God's promises? In my search for answers and peace, I find more questions and disturbing thoughts. So why continue my search? Because I've been told that I should. Because I've been told that God can handle my grief. Because I've been told that one day peace will come. But right now, I don't like the search. Right now, it hurts. Right now, I want answers.

We talked about going back to church this weekend. Really, we did. But we couldn't. The pain is too fresh and too raw. Josh says we have to go next weekend though. Next weekend it will have been a month since I've walked through those doors. The last time I was in that building, I excitedly told everyone that I would be having my baby that week. And I did. The following Thursday, in fact. But it wasn't the way I expected it. It is not going to be easy to walk in that building. I imagined walking in as a happy family of four. Now we're a grieving family of four because one of us had to leave too soon. It'll be hard to walk in that building and return to normal life because life is no longer normal for us. It will be hard to sit through a service and listen to songs and words about God's promises. But I'm doing it. Next Saturday night, I will put on my "I'm doing fine" mask and walk through those doors. That mask will have to be in place because if not, I won't make it through those doors. That mask will be easy to break through though. I don't expect to hold onto all night because it takes too much effort. Effort I no longer have. So if you are there, and you witness my break down, know that you were warned because next Saturday, May 30th, exactly one month from the birth and death of my son, I will walk through those doors, whether I'm ready to or not.

After studying each Psalm, I'm asked to rewrite it into a prayer for myself. I made an attempt at Psalm 121. I don't know how much of it I actually believe at the moment, but I do want to believe it. So I share it with you:

I raise my eyes up.
Where will I find peace?
My peace comes from God,
Maker of me and Levi.
He will not allow me to despair.
He will not sleep through my grief.
The Lord protects me.
He walks beside me.
I will make it through the day,
and through the night.
The Lord will put his arms around me
and protect me through my grief.
The Lord will carry me always.