Our God is a Fourth-Watch God

Life is somethin' else, isn't it?

Do you ever feel like Life sometimes starts beating the crap out of you for no apparent reason? Blow after blow after blow, Life throws at you. And it gives you no warning, really. There you are, walking along with Life, and the path is a little rocky, but things are mostly okay. But then, suddenly, BOOM! A fast fist to the face. And another, and another, and a kick to the gut. You're trying to stay upright during this beating, but you fall to the ground and then you're trying to catch your breath, but Life's like, NO WAY! You don't get to breathe! and then Life stomps your face in. And you're like, I wanna die. I'm lying here trying to breathe. I'm bleeding everywhere, and I can't find a place on my body that isn't hurting. Life has betrayed me, and I wanna die. And then, sometimes, it seems for a moment that Life is easing up. You think you can get up if you can just open your swollen eyes. Finally you blink open your eyes just in time to see a seagull above you as it flies away after dropping its feces, which now blankets your bloodied, beaten face. Like frosting of acid over cupcakes of carrion. And the bird poop on its own wouldn't be so bad, but after you've been beaten to scraps, it feels like Hell. Have you ever experienced something like that?

That's been my life over the past few months. Blow after blow after blow. These thoughts have been common:
Why can't things go smoothly, just for one day? 
Will this ever end?
I am sure I can't take any more of this.
Where is God? Is He even listening?
It's not fair!
I need Marsha!
Nobody understands.
I hate my life (and that is a very unusual thought to enter my head).
I want to give up.

God has finally eased some of my burdens. However, the lifting of some burdens have caused a seesaw effect, and some different burdens have become even heavier. But, my perspective is a little clearer.

It was really hard there for a while. And, already, I'm looking back with the understanding that it really didn't last that long. When you're in it, though, and you cannot see the end, it feels like forever. I feel like I'm still in the sea in the storm, but at least I'm floating, on a raft, even. I'm breathing. I can see hints of dawn on the horizon.

I attended a local mid-singles fireside on Sunday evening. The speaker talked about trials and the one thing he said that really stuck out to me was "our God is a fourth-watch God." I really let that play out in my head. I have noticed this myself. I have noticed that when I am in my trials, and it feels like God isn't there, it also feels like He doesn't really come in for the rescue until just before the moment of surrender to hopelessness. It always feels like Heavenly Father waits till the second before ultimate disaster to intervene. And, sometimes, He doesn't intervene at all, and ultimate disaster becomes reality. That's when you go on past the 4th watch and it's STILL dark. Time for dawn has come and gone without the sun. That's another post for another day, however.

I'm grateful to report that I'm at the tail end of my fourth watch. My Savior has come and rescued me, again, from drowning. Miracles and tender mercies have been my companions, even in the black, turbulent sea. The rescue raft was always on its way even though I couldn't see it until it had reached me.

Anyway, I have noticed in my own life, that the end of the 4th watch is often when I can finally see the possibility of light. I have also noticed that, for every new, great trial, each watch is longer than it was in the last great trial. Each storm is more terrifying than the last one. Each rescue raft begins farther from me than the last time. Each dawn, however, is brighter than the last one.

Through the last few months, I noticed I was drawing from the strength I gained from previous trials. Remember, that last trial ended? This one will, too.
Remember how I wished I'd relied more on the Savior last time? I'll rely on Him more this time.
Remember how Heavenly Father was really with me the entire time, and I just couldn't see Him because I was too close to the pain? He's here now, as He was then.
Remember how He didn't abandon me even when I thought He did? He will not abandon me now!

So I would take a deep breath, brush off the dust and blood and bird poop, and face the dark storm.

Sure enough, there was my God in the fourth watch. I thought the 1st watch was the fourth watch, frankly! It was so hard even then!

Today, I found this talk by S. Michael Wilcox, and in it, the following paragraphs:

There are times in our lives when we toil, rowing against the wind. We are trying to make progress and sometimes it seems that there are forces that are against us. There may be some great blessing that we deeply desire. There may be some trial that we want deeply to be over. And it doesn’t seem like we are making any headway against the wind. We wonder if the Lord is listening. Now we need to understand something about our Father in Heaven, and that is that He is a fourth watch God.
The Hebrew night was divided into four watches. The first watch—six o’clock at night to nine [p.m.], second watch—nine to midnight, third watch—midnight to three in the morning, fourth watch—three in the morning to sunrise.  Sometimes that creates a bit of a problem for us, certainly for me. I worship a fourth watch God. One who tends to feel that it is good to let His children toil in rowing against the wind to face a little opposition. My problem is that I am a first watch person. Now there is something inside of me that understands that it is good for me to toil in rowing against the wind. But certainly by the second watch He would come. And when the second watch has passed and He still has not come. Sometimes I forget that as Mark says, He is watching. He watched them toiling and rowing.
I began to make some assumptions that are often dangerous to make—maybe you make the same. We begin to assume that, number one, He is not there. That is why He’s not responding. And then we calm down and understand that He is there; He is always there. Then the second assumption is if He is there, He must not be listening. And then again, in calmer times—He always listens. Well then the third assumption is He must not care. No—He’s there, He listens, He cares. Maybe the most dangerous assumption, the fourth assumption is I must not be worthy. Now that fourth assumption we are probably correct on. But when has that ever stopped Him from responding; we are as worthy as we can be. We must assume that we have not yet reached the fourth watch; and He is a fourth watch God.
The scriptures are full of fourth watch stories: Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove—“At the very moment I was ready to sink into despair” (JSH 1:16). Do you ever feel that way? “Just at this moment of great alarm, I saw a pillar of light” (JSH 1:16). It was when the widow of Zarephath was gathering two sticks to make a final meal for her and her son that Elijah came walking through the gate to save them from the famine (1 Kings 17). It was when the water was spent in the bottle and Hagar had placed Ishmael under a tree because she did not want to see his death, that the angel came to say, Hagar, what aileth thee? and showed her a source of water (Genesis 21:17).
We worship a fourth watch God. So when the trials aren’t over and the blessings don’t come, don’t assume that He is not there, or He is not listening, or He doesn’t care, or you’re not worthy. Always assume you have not yet reached the fourth watch.

God is a kind and ever-merciful 4th watch God. I know there is wisdom to the winds He allows. I know I will be wiser and stronger at the end of this trial. I am grateful for it! I am grateful for the miracles I have seen during it. It's interesting because our trials are really customized to fit us. I know that my trials would scarcely be trials for some others. At the same time, some others would be literally unable to bear what I have born. I have heard that quote that says something like if we could dump our trials in a big community bucket and choose whichever trials we wanted, we'd take back our own trials. I really believe that! I'll take what I have, thanks. You keep your health issues, I don't want them. You keep your nightmare of a childhood to manage, I don't want it. I'll keep my divorce, I'll keep my single parenthood. I'll keep my loneliness. I'll keep my past with an emotionally abusive, adulterating husband. I'll keep my seemingly endless poverty. I'll keep my ADHD, and my son's Asperger's. I'll keep my addictions. You keep your loss of loved ones, your isolation from family, your homelessness (I've been homeless, actually! But I'm not now.) I'll keep all my trials, thank you very much. I like them better than yours.

And I'm so grateful that dawn is coming, and that He never stopped watching me during it all.