You are not going crazy because you can’t remember your best friend’s name.
You haven’t lost your mind because you can’t find your car keys, or the purse you put them in, or get lost in a store.
It’s grief brain.
And it’s a real thing….
Read the rest here: Grief Brain: It’s a Real Thing!
When I taught a young women’s Sunday School class, we were exploring the third Psalm.
David wrote this Psalm when fleeing from his son, Absalom. He not only feared for his life, but his heart was broken by the shattered family relationships that led to this power struggle.
It wasn’t the first time he had to rely on God to intervene.
Psalm 3
A Psalm of David, when he fled from Absalom his son.
Jehovah, how many are they that trouble me, many they that rise up against me!
2 Many say of my soul, There is no salvation for him in God. Selah.
3 But thou, Jehovah, art a shield about me; my glory, and the lifter up of my head.
4 With my voice will I call to Jehovah, and he will answer me from the hill of his holiness. Selah.
5 I laid me down and slept; I awaked, for Jehovah sustaineth me.
6 I will not fear for myriads of the people that have set themselves against me round about.
7 Arise, Jehovah; save me, my God! For thou hast smitten all mine enemies upon the cheekbone, thou hast broken the teeth of the wicked.
8 Salvation is of Jehovah; thy blessing is upon thy people. Selah.
DARBY translation
I will do almost anything to make a lesson come alive.
So I lay down on the carpet, forehead to the floor, arms outstretched and asked, “Can I defend myself in any way in this position?”
Of course the answer was a resounding, “NO!” because it was obvious that I could not.
I was at the mercy of whoever may intend me harm. I could neither see them nor stop them. It was a position of absolute vulnerability-the way prisoners knelt for execution in ancient times.
It was the position Esther assumed when she embraced very real danger to gain the opportunity to plead for the safety of her people.
And it reflects the inner truth that I am not in control and utterly reliant on the God Who made me to save me.
A friend posted this on her timeline and I really like it.
I would change only a single thing: Instead of “lift your head” I would say, “let God lift your head”.
Because I am unable to lift it myself.
I don’t have the strength, I don’t have the power, I don’t have the energy to raise my head above my current circumstances. I am bent under the weight of sorrow and grief. If left to myself, I will stay here and simply wait for the end to come-it sometimes sounds easier and more inviting.
But the truth is, it AIN’T over yet.
I don’t get to make that choice. God does. And as long as He keeps me here I want to rely on Him to lift my head and make my life a living testimony to His power, grace, mercy and love.
There IS salvation from God-not only eternal salvation but also salvation from the pit of despair and despondency that threatens to swallow my soul.
When He lifts my head, I can see it.
thelifeididntchoose 