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What should we do when faced with a crisis too big to handle? How do we get ourselves out of the depths of despair, a worst case scenario, an unexpected downturn, a sudden tragedy, a seemingly unsolvable dilemma, a grief that never seems to end? Often, there������Ƶapp no way out but through, and as in all things, we must turn to God. “But I have turned to God! I’ve been praying and making sacrifices. I’ve been begging and pleading with God, but nothing seems to change. In fact, things are getting worse.” 

Now what? Continue. Soldier on. Sometimes Heaven is silent.

Our Faith teaches us that God loves us, that He is always present to us, that He cares intensely about us, that He has every hair of our heads counted. It������Ƶapp easy to believe this when things are fairly hunky dory and our Crosses are manageable. But what happens when disaster strikes and never lets up? The understandable temptation is to give up. Sometimes we do. But then we get up again and start anew to somehow pray, fight, reach out, persist. “

Remain faithful and I will give you the crown of life.” The Scriptures, the doctrines, the dogmas need to become more real when life becomes uncertain, because they are sure. It might sound strange to turn to these when we urgently need money, health, a job, a resolution, an answer. But these truths never change as our circumstances and the world around us do. When we lean on them, we are really leaning on God. 

Another temptation at times like these (and these “times” could be someone������Ƶapp entire life) is to turn our backs on God: the only One that can help us. With everything. “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life.” 

Here������Ƶapp where I’m going to say something very unpopular, that no one wants to hear when they are down and out: This life isn’t all there is. Even if things do go from bad to worse, even though this life matters greatly (it������Ƶapp when and where we work out our salvation), it������Ƶapp not final. It������Ƶapp not the last word. 

I’ve been praying to Archangel Raphael for a specific healing, and the prayer ended with: “…and guide our faltering steps towards the true life.” I know some people will take offense at that prayer. Whaddaya mean “the true life”? Isn’t my life right now “the true life”? Yes and no. We only see “through a glass darkly.” We are on trial. We are in the valley of tears. We are in continual combat. 

We should all be very invested in our earthly lives, but invested in a way that will bring us maximum profit in eternal life, the fullness of life, life with God forever. “Store up treasure for yourselves in heaven.” Sometimes that will mean just waking up each day and getting out of bed (or, if we’re bedridden, just waking up). If it������Ƶapp someone else we’re worried about (a child, a parent, a good friend), God������Ƶapp Word, God������Ƶapp promises still apply. “Hope isn’t hope if its object is seen.” Faith and hope are linked.

God never promised us health, wealth and happiness on this earth. He did promise suffering and persecution, and that we, His followers and disciples, would experience what He, our Crucified Lord, experienced—in one fashion or another. When I speak to young people about this and Jesus’ call to “deny yourself and take up your Cross”—I then starkly pose the question: “Do you still want to be a Christian?” The reaction is always the same. Stunned silence. And then one determined voice will inevitably pipe up: “Yes.” And then a few more. 

Along with clinging to our Bible in bad times (and good), may I suggest utilizing the Church������Ƶapp treasury of rote prayers? I recently discovered “The Surrender Novena” by Don (Fr.) Dolindo. I just began praying it because I realized that my dispositions in prayer needed a big adjustment. As I pray the Novena, I ponder the simplicity of its wording and instructions and try to conform myself to it.

When Heaven is silent, is God still listening? Even for Jesus, there was a time when it didn’t seem so: “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” Jesus felt as we have felt…and stayed His course. 

Sr. Helena Raphael Burns, fsp, is a Daughter of St. Paul. She holds a Masters in Media Literacy Education and studied screenwriting at UCLA.   Twitter: @srhelenaburns  #medianuns