Many thousands of years ago, before our Lord went back to the Father, he promised us that he would never leave us. He promised that he would be with us until the end of the age. And so, we believed that the Lord is with us in Spirit here, now and for always. However, haven't there been times in our lives when we actually felt his absence more intensely than we believed in his abiding presence? Haven't there been seasons an end when we actually sensed we were going all these, alone? And don’t we sometimes feel that our Lord of wisdom and counsel seems to have locked himself away behind divine silence?

What we perceive as a divine withdrawal leaves us wondering when this dark cloud shall lift? When pain and discomfort will no longer pile upon each other? While such times last, we realize the power that despair yields upon us so that we say, "my God, my God, why have you abandoned me?"

We are no strangers to suffering and the sense of abandonment it brands painfully on our spirit. So when suffering and illness walk us to the edge of despair, this God with us, this son of God who promised to stay with us till the end of time, He holds us, He reigns us in and binds us to hope.

Yes, many times he does seem to bind us with such fragile treads of small comfort. Yet, we do not dare to cut him loose and away. For Jesus our Lord, no stranger to suffering himself is compassionate. So, what is this silence all about? We wish to believe that the silence is the time when the Emmanuel actually suffers with us and praise in us in words beyond all understanding.

Isn't it very strange how some songs written by complete strangers who lead completely different lives can nevertheless speak whatever you and I are unable to put into words? How then can music fashioned by another sense become so one's own whether one's sings it, or simply listens to it. When the Lord fashions a song in and through the heart of one person, the Lord inevitably placed that song not only through its fashioner but in and through all who care enough to sing it and to listen to it.

We are God's dwelling place. Our persons, our bodies, our spirits are home to God's song. We may be ravaged by the merciless trespass of disease, made febrile by abiding pain, sheered and weakened by endless treatment. But even then, even then, the Lord rests and finds comfort in us, His dwelling place. We may be hardened by failed relationships, shrunk down and shriveled up by wrong choices, made ugly by pain we inflict on ourselves, and on others. But even then, even then, the Lord rests and finds comfort in us, His dwelling place.

And that gives us comfort. You have the Lord within you, and when you sing or listen to a beautiful song that speaks about you, it is the Lord. It is the Lord who finds His home in you. It is the Lord who sings His song to you to make it your own. And how lovely indeed is this dwelling place of His.