hope – Page 21 – thelifeididntchoose

Refuse to Hide: Lament As Worship

We usually think of worship as songs of joy and happiness extolling the virtues of God and Christ.

While that is most certainly a form of worship, it is absolutely not the only one.

Biblical lament is an honest, vulnerable expression of pain, a crying out to God in faith as we are suffering.
― Cindee Snider Re

Worship is also the broken whimper of a scared and wounded child, crawling into the lap of her Abba Father.

There is no less adoration in this ultimate act of confident trust than in the most eloquent declaration of theological truth in word or song.

Lament is worship.

Christian lament is not simply complaint. Yes, it stares clear-eyed at awfulness and even wonders if God has gone…Yet at its fullest, biblical lament expresses sorrow over losing a world that was once good alongside a belief that it can be made good again. Lament isn’t giving up, it’s giving over. When we lift up our sorrow and our pain, we turn it over to the only one who can meet it: our God.”
― Josh Larsen

Bringing my brokenness to God as an offering, trusting Him to receive it, to keep it and to begin to weave even this into the tapestry of my life is perhaps the ultimate act of worship.

When I refuse to pretend, refuse to hide, refuse to run away and look for an answer somewhere else, I affirm that He is my God, and there is no other beside Him.

A lament is an act of worship, a faith statement of trust, in the face of difficulty. It’s a wonderfully honest way to acknowledge our trouble to God as we also acknowledge our hope is in him.
― Linda Evans Shepherd

God is not only the God of the sufferers but the God who suffers. … It is said of God that no one can behold his face and live. I always thought this meant that no one could see his splendor and live. A friend said perhaps it meant that no one could see his sorrow and live. Or perhaps his sorrow is splendor. … Instead of explaining our suffering God shares it.
― Nicholas Wolterstorff

Holding On To Hope With Both Hands

I confess that I have not had a wholehearted desire to study Scripture since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

Oh, I nibble on verses every day, but I’ve shied away from the feast that used to fill my heart and soul.

This year, though, I’m committing to a more diligent approach-choosing to focus on one word per month and writing out corresponding verses. I am studying them, looking up cross-references, considering context and making personal application in my journal.

So the first word I chose was “Hope” because I think of all the things I’ve struggled most to hold onto in this life I didn’t choose, hope is the hardest.

In my flesh, I want to give up and give in.

If Heaven is my ultimate destination and I can’t control the future, why not just coast until the Lord calls me home? Why work so hard to live up to a high standard when grace covers it all? Why lift my head when head down or head up, I’m assured of eternal joy?

I’m just being honest here.

But I know, deep in my spirit, that this is not the purpose for which I was created. I was not made by a loving Father to plod hopelessly through this world. He breathed life into my soul so that I could fulfill His kingdom purpose in this place, at this time.

So I get back on the proverbial horse every time I’m tossed off and try again.

Here are just a couple of the verses that are speaking courage to me, helping me hold onto hope with both hands.

I hope they whet your appetite (as they have mine) for finding more.

O my soul, why are you so overwrought?
    Why are you so disturbed?
Why can’t I just hope in God? Despite all my emotions, I will hope in God again.
    I will believe and praise the One
    who saves me and is my life,
My Savior and my God.

Psalm 43:5 VOICE

“Despite all my emotions” I will hope in God again. God created me with emotions. They are a gift (even though sometimes it doesn’t seem that way!). But I cannot be ruled by them.

Emotions are changeable.

Truth is not.

So I have to turn my heart by an act of will toward the truth that God is my Savior, He is my hope.

We live with hope in the Eternal. We wait for Him,
    for He is our Divine Help and Impenetrable Shield.
Our hearts erupt with joy in Him
    because we trust His holy name.
O Eternal, drench us with Your endless love,
    even now as we wait for You.

Psalm 33: 20-22 VOICE

I love the phrase from Psalm 33:20 “our hearts erupt with joy”! This life is hard and joy is often a distant memory or a fleeting moment, but there will be a Day when my heart will be so full of joy-when every hard and hurtful thing is redeemed-that the joy will overflow like lava from a volcano.

No stopping it!

Now that’s something to hope for!

If your heart needs help leaning in and holding on, here’s a link to a month’s worth of short verses focused on hope: Think on These Things: Hope

Print it out and tuck it in a journal or your Bible. You can even look up the verses online and check out different translations. (Something I love to do because it often reveals things I might overlook!) Copy them out. It only takes a few minutes. Then underline the phrase or phrases that stand out to you.

Make them your own.

Hide the words in your heart.

Let the Word of God speak life and love to your soul.

Grace Quotes

I need to remind my heart on a regular basis that grace covers it all-every mistake, every sin, every need, every. single. thing.

Because if it doesn’t, then it’s not grace at all.

So here are some of my favorite quotes about grace.

They help me hang on when my heart wants to let go. They help me hear my Father’s voice when my ears are full of condemnation and guilt. They help me recognize truth when the hater of my soul fills my head with lies.

Every time you fall down, at the bottom of every hole is grace. Grace waits in broken places. Grace waits at the bottom of things. Grace loves you when you are at your darkest worst, and wraps you in the best light. Grace seeps through the broken places and seeps into the lowest places, a balm for wounds.

~Ann Voskamp

The gospel is not just an evangelistic principle; it is a message that gets you out of bed in the morning. The sovereignty of God is not some debatable proposition; it is the assurance that your child’s death is not a meaningless accident. Grace is not simply a word in a hymn; it’s the very thing you rely on when you are so bereaved that you cannot imagine living another day. Faith is not just a cliche’ term for religion, it is the thing that picks you up off the carpet where you have been crying for over an hour.

~Cameron Cole, Therefore I Have Hope

What else can I do but keep praying to You even when I feel dark; to keep writing about You even when I feel numb; to keep speaking Your name even when I feel alone. Come, Lord Jesus come. Have mercy on me, a sinner.

-Henri Nouwen

My faith demands that I face the uncertainty of the future in the confidence that in any meeting of affliction, I am held by the tether of God’s grace. My way is well known to my Master, and therefore I walk in confidence. No testing will come that will not be accompanied by sustaining grace. If I failed to believe that, I would be impoverished beyond measure and would deny the truthfulness and example of Scripture. God’s provision has been adequate in the past; it will be adequate in the future. The secret of our courage lies in our confidence that the future is controlled by the providence of a sovereign God.

~James Means, A Tearful Celebration

Christmas Morning Prayer for Hurting Hearts

Oh, dear one who opened your eyes to the morning light carrying wounds so deep no one can see!

I am so, so sorry.

When things have gone terribly wrong it’s hard to get up and make merry.

I know.

But that first Christmas felt more like heartache and less like ho-ho-ho. So you are in good company.

You don’t have to pretend that nothing has changed but you can reach out and take hold of what remains.

You don’t have to hide your tears or your memories but you can share them with people who love you and long to help you carry the legacy of the one you miss.

Today may be long.

But it is only one day.

You can make it.

You will make it.

I promise.

May you experience the Presence of the Christ of Christmas no matter how dark and lonely and sad you feel. May your heart hold onto hope regardless of how tempted it is to give in to despair. May the Holy Spirit Who overshadowed Mary, overwhelm you and fill you with grace and mercy. May you hear the Father whisper, “Courage, My child” to your soul.

And more than all this, may you know that you are seen, you are loved and you are being carried. ❤

~Melanie DeSimone

Repost: When You Think You Can’t Hold On-Let Go

So many ways to be reminded of how hard it is to hold on in these days and weeks around Christmas.

If your heart is barely able to beat, the pressure to be “hap-hap-happy” can send you over the edge.

If your home is empty of cheerful voices, the constant barrage of commercials touting family togetherness can leave you feeling oh, so lonely.

Read the rest here: When You Think You Can’t Hold On

Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Friend

It would be helpful if the world could just stop for a day or a week (or a year!) when your heart is shattered by the news that one of the children you birthed into this world has suddenly left it.

But it doesn’t.

And immediately all the roles I have played for decades are overlaid by a new role: bereaved mother. Except instead of being definitive or even descriptive, this role is more like a foggy blanket that obscures and disorients me as I struggle to fulfill all the roles to which I’ve become accustomed.

Now I’m a bereaved mother AND

wife,
mother to surviving siblings,
daughter,
sister,
friend.

In addition to all the challenges those various roles represent, I have a new challenge:

How can I be the person I need to be for the ones I love when I’m barely able to be any kind of person at all? How do I encourage THEM when I have to give myself a pep talk just to get out of the bed? How do I navigate my own emotional landmines and help them navigate theirs so we all arrive safely on the other side of birthdays, holidays and special occasions?

I have to admit that I have. absolutely. no. idea.

I’m trying. I don’t give up (although I want to!). I keep showing up and having conversations (even some that are one-sided as I take the brunt of another’s emotional explosion). I try to be a middleman and get first one person’s perspective and then another’s-negotiating for common ground and some kind of compromise.

But it often backfires.

No matter how hard I work at it, I can’t please everyone. And the problem with being seen as the negotiator is that if things don’t turn out well, you are the scapegoat too.

I’ll be honest. There have been more than a few days this past month I wanted to crawl up in the bed, pull the covers over my head and not answer the door or the phone.

After nearly five years of this, I’m worn down, worn out, feeling sick, feeling incompetent and feeling like no matter how hard I try it really doesn’t matter.

I know it’s not true.

But it feels that way.

And it takes another giant bolus of energy I don’t really have to drag my butt out of the bed, make a list, make phone calls, do the things that need doing and then show up, smiling, to whatever event is next.

Because that’s what wives, mothers, daughters, sisters and friends do.

❤

Hollow Words

We don’t mean to speak words that echo like a whistle in an empty auditorium.

But we do.

We open our mouths and pour out platitudes because that’s what’s been poured into us.

But we need to stop. We need to listen.

And then we need to respond to the heart that stands before us and not to our need to shut down and shut up and shut out another person’s pain.

It’s hard to choose compassion. It’s hard to lean in and listen well. It’s hard to let our hearts get all tangled up with someone else’s when we could just walk away.

I am well aware that you have a life of your own full of drama, daily duties and demands. I don’t want to drain you dry.

Truly.

But I might need just a moment of your time and a bit of your courage to make it through my own darkness and despair.

One word.

One REAL word.

“I’m sorry. That is awful.”

“I hate that you have this heavy burden.”

“How can I pray for you?”

“I don’t know what to say, but I want you to know I’m here and not going anywhere.”

Lesson Learned

It’s a lesson you never forget once you’ve learned it.

It’s lesson you never learn unless you have to.

The destruction of property-even every single thing you own on this earth-is awful, frightening and life-changing.

But it’s still LIFE.

My parents were caught in the fury that was Hurricane Michael. They were miles inland, a community that had never seen anything like this in four generations that had lived in the house where they rode out the storm.

Their property and home took a hit, but they are OK.

And for this mama with one son in heaven and one deployed half-way around the world, that’s ALL THAT MATTERS.

We can rebuild a house. We can buy more stuff.

But I can’t replace the people I love.

Life and Death.

I know that lesson well.

Repost: Heartache, Healing & Hope

This was what I wrote after last February’s retreat.

For an introvert who prefers writing to chatting it was a real stretch.

But it was so worth it!!!

If you are close enough to join us in November, please pray diligently about whether God would have you go. I promise that you will not regret it-even if it’s a stretch for you too.

“I spent last weekend with eleven other bereaved mamas in a small Christian camp in Mississippi*

I’ll be honest-what sounded like a great idea a few months ago had begun to sound like an awful and intimidating idea about three days before I was supposed to go.

Even though I felt more prepared for this event than the Through This Valley Conference in October, I was still filled with trepidation at facilitating five sessions over three days with women I had only “met” online.”

Read the rest here: Heartache, Healing and Hope

Bereaved Mom’s Retreat: Anchoring Our Hearts in Christ

Last February I did something I wasn’t sure I was ready for-I spent a weekend with a dozen other bereaved moms at a small Christian retreat.

It was close quarters (a challenge for this introvert!) and we were together 24 hours a day for nearly three days. (You can read about it here)

It was beautiful!

We began by sharing the story of our child-no pressure to make it short, no pressure not to cry, no pressure to tie the ragged ends up in tidy bows for the comfort of those listening.

And then we prayed.

By the time we went to bed that night hearts were already being knit together in love. Many of us have stayed in touch since then and some live close enough to get together often. All of us left stronger than when we got there.

What a gift!

We are doing it again November 2-4 at Abby Acres Christian Camp .

Space is limited (18 as long as 6 don’t mind top bunks 🙂 )and the cost is minimal (75.00 including meals!), so make sure to call Hope Lee at the numbers listed below if you’re interested. [662-256-5652 OR 662-574-8445] The nearest large airport is Memphis, TN which puts you about a two hour drive from the camp.

Our theme for the weekend is “Anchoring Our Hearts in Christ”.

DEADLINE TO REGISTER IS OCTOBER 15TH so call Hope soon! ❤

I’ll once again be facilitating interactive sessions centered around Scripture, filled with personal examples and overflowing with encouragement for battered and bruised hearts.

Please join us!

I promise you won’t regret it. ❤

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