hope – Page 24 – thelifeididntchoose

How To Pray For Your Brokenhearted Friend

We’ve all been there-someone we love receives a terminal diagnosis, someone we care about loses a family member, her husband walks away from their marriage of twenty years, his addicted child hasn’t made contact in months.

The list is endless.

This life is hard and broken hearts abound.

What to do?

I’ve written extensively about the many practical ways a friend or family member can reach out and walk beside a wounded heart.

Choosing to offer compassionate companionship is the greatest gift you can give.

But there is another way you can help. You can carry the one you love to the Throne of Grace and intercede on his or her behalf with the One Who can be there when you just can’t.

I’ve learned the hard way that many situations are not fixable. They are only bearable. And because we so often pray for blessings and miracles, when faced with this reality, words tend to fail us.

But there are prayers to pray for the brokenhearted.

Pray for God’s Presence.

Father God, alone and broken is too much for anyone to bear. I know you are right beside my friend, but give her assurance of Your Presence. Let this wounded heart feel You very near her. When she despairs that You are not listening, bring to mind Your Word and flood her with Your comfort.

Pray for the presence of God’s people.

Lord, You don’t need people to do Your work, but you have ordained that the work of Your Body will be done by the hands of men. Stir the hearts of those that follow Jesus to show up and bring practical help to this broken heart. Give divine guidance to the people You want to be there so that they do things, bring things and say things that bless and do not harm. May this abundant outpouring of love, grace and mercy give strength to a struggling heart.

Pray for grace.

Father, we so often think of grace as what You give us when we receive salvation. But grace is so much more than that-it is the oil that lubricates the gears of life. It’s what gives us the space we need to process offense, to overlook offense and to avoid offense. My friend is wounded and oh, so vulnerable. Overwhelm his heart with Your grace so that the unthinking and even unkind words or actions of others will not hurt him more. Suffuse every single relationship that is being strained and stretched by this hard season with grace so that it remains supple and does not break. Fill the hearts of those who come to minister with grace to endure his silence or their rebuffed attempts to help. Keep relationships alive and intact, even in this difficult time.

Pray for mercy.

Oh, Lord! How well I know that one tragedy or unbearable hardship does not preclude another on its heels! I beg mercy for this family! Pour mercy out on them and in them and prevent any schemes of the evil one to succeed. They are so, so weak and such easy targets! Let Your mercy surround and protect them.

Pray for strength.

Father, “weak” can’t begin to describe the crumbling of a spirit under the crushing load of grief. If You do not raise the head of my friend, she will not be able to raise it herself. If you do not infuse her body with Your strength, she will not be able to make it through this valley. You have promised that if we wait on You-expectantly and hopefully and trustingly-that You will give us strength as eagles. We will run and not be weary, we will walk and not faint You are the Everlasting God. You are the Source of Strength. Fill my friend with Your strength as You have promised.

Pray for faith.

Lord, there is a space where faith and experience conflict. Losing a child creates a gulf between what a heart wants to believe and has believed and the unbearable pain that fills it right now Help my friend’s heart hold onto the hem of Your garment. Give him the will and conviction to say, “I believe, help Thou my unbelief!” Bring those who love You alongside to bear witness to this crisis of faith without correcting or shaming. Send Your Holy Spirit in power to flood this hurting heart with an assurance of Your Presence and power.

Pray for courage.

Father God, one of Your great champions, C.S. Lewis wrote, “No one ever told me grief felt so like fear.” He was right. Grief feels like the most profound fear a heart can experience. The entire world has shifted. The bottom has fallen out. It seems there is no end to the pain and suffering that a person may have to endure. And it is scary-so, so scary. Let my friend join the Psalmist in declaring, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea” (Psalm 46: 1,2 NIV) You are the unchanging constant Truth in a world where everything else seems untrustworthy.

Pray for perseverance.

Lord, it’s easy to start well but something else again to finish well. When a heart realizes that this missing, this sorrow and this pain is going to be with it for all the days of life on earth, that’s a whole other burden to bear. Defeat seems imminent. How can someone possibly carry this for years-perhaps decades? Give my friend the commitment and strength to persevere. Help her wake each day and decide to keep on keeping on. Infuse her tired body, mind and spirit with the power You have promised to give to all who love you: the power that raised Jesus from the grave (Ephesians 1:19,20).

Pray for love.

Father God, a broken heart is open and ready for filling. And it will be filled with something. It will be filled with love or it will be filled with bitterness. Overwhelm my friend with Your grace, mercy and love so that all the spaces are filled to overflowing with You and there is no room for bitterness. Bind the work of the enemy so that no scheme formed against him can stand. Give him a heart of flesh-that even hurting, even broken-he can give and receive love. Because love lives forever.

Amen.

“Lord, Renew My Strength!”

I was pregnant or nursing for nearly a decade.

With four children under six, I have no idea how I managed to get anything done, much less EVERYTHING done.

Some days I didn’t. But most days I muddled through.

But I was so. so. tired.

Every morning started with a prayer, “God, give me what I need for today. Give me strength for today. I won’t ask for tomorrow. Just for today.”

As life accelerated to that frenzy only parents of teens can understand-one here, another there, cars everywhere-my body was rebelling. My joints screamed, “No! Let’s just stay right here for a day (or a week!).”

That wasn’t an option, so I leaned in and prayed again, “God, renew my energy. Give me strength. If You aren’t going to cure me, help me learn to live well with my limitations.”

I thought my middle-aged years would give me a bit of rest. A time to catch my breath.

I was wrong.

Dominic’s death plunged me into emotional, physical, mental and spiritual exhaustion I could never have imagined. I did not know you could be so tired and still breathe.

I found myself begging God once again for strength.

Now it is my daily prayer.

And He is faithful to do as He has promised.

Nearly four years and I have gotten out of bed every. single. morning.

I do what needs to be done.

I’m still standing. ❤

Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard?
    The Eternal, the Everlasting God,
The Creator of the whole world, never gets tired or weary.
    His wisdom is beyond understanding.
God strengthens the weary
    and gives vitality to those worn down by age and care.
Young people will get tired;
    strapping young men will stumble and fall.
But those who trust in the Eternal One will regain their strength.
    They will soar on wings as eagles.
They will run—never winded, never weary.
    They will walk—never tired, never faint.

Isaiah 40:28-31 VOICE

Holy Week Reflections: Resurrection-Reality and Reassurance

Paul wrote, “if Christ has not risen, then our preaching is in vain [it amounts to nothing] and your faith is devoid of truth and is fruitless (without effect, empty, imaginary, and unfounded).” ( I Corinthians 15:14 AMPC)

If Jesus was just another prophet or good man or moral teacher and his body lies buried forever then there is no foundation for my hope.

But He IS risen! And I DO have hope!

“The worst conceivable thing has happened, and it has been mended…All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.” ~Julian of Norwich

I’m not sure when I first read this quote, but it came to my mind that awful morning. And I played it over and over in my head, reassuring my broken heart that indeed, the worst had already happened, and been mended.

Death had died.

Read the rest here: Resurrection: Reality and Reassurance

Saturday

For decades I looked forward to Saturdays.

When I was a child it meant a day off school and an opportunity for freedom. Many Saturdays were spent playing outside or riding along with my dad to the hardware store to pick up needed items for a home project.

A little older and I used up my Saturday at the horse barn. Mucking stalls, riding a little and hanging out with sawdust and hay and sweaty animals and people.

Older still and Saturdays meant date nights. Squeezing in fun between long days in a college classroom and part time work were what Saturdays were made for. Catching a movie, going dancing or taking a ride in the country were favorite past times.

Then came children and for awhile Saturdays represented the only time I was not solely responsible for four little lives. The only day I might get a chance to take a bath without small heads peeking around the doorway with some “emergency”.

Later, as they grew, Saturdays were spent at basketball games where three boys played on three different teams and it took all morning and into early afternoon for everyone to finish up. Sack lunches were the order of the day as we cheered and waited, waited and cheered. We went home exhausted and managed a little yard work before hitting the bed.

Children grow into adulthood and Saturdays continued to reflect changing needs, priorities and schedules but almost always meant some family time despite the many responsibilities of each of us. We managed to squeeze in family work days, family fun days, family trips, family movie nights. It was beautiful.

And then came one Saturday.

A Saturday I’d like to forget if it didn’t mean forgetting Dominic.

Now Saturday is a reminder of the doorbell,

of the news,

of the horror,

of the disbelief.

In some ways it is fitting that my heart is brought back around to this pain every Saturday because as a believer in Jesus, every Sunday is meant to recall the resurrection of Christ.

So EVERY weekend, not only THIS one during Holy Week, my heart replays the sequence of sadness turned to joy.

The difference is that I still wait for the fullness of my promised joy. But I’m holding on with both hands to that hope. I’m digging in my heels and refusing to be dragged away from the hem of His garment.

He is faithful Who promised.

He will redeem.

He will restore.

His resurrection proves it.

Holy Week Reflections: Living Between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection

It is tempting to forget that there were three long days and nights between the crucifixion and the resurrection beause the way we observe this season rushes us past the pain to embrace the promise.

But it’s not hard for me to imagine how the disciples felt when they saw Jesus was dead. It was neither what they expected nor what they prayed for.

Read the rest here: Living Between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection

Repost: My Heart Hurts

Oh, how my heart hurts!

Deep down where no one can touch it-it aches for my missing child, the family I used to have, the lost opportunities, the missed moments.

And there is no cure.

Yes, there is a Balm in Gilead-there is hope in the Person of Jesus Christ.

And it soothes the pain, takes the edge off, makes it bearable.

But it does not take it away.

Read the rest here: My Heart Hurts

Where Are All the Pieces?

If you’ve ever dropped a treasured china cup, you will know exactly what I’m talking about.

Finding the bigger chunks is easy. But as you begin to put them in place thinking, “Oh, I can glue this back good as new”, you realize that tiny slivers necessary to make it whole are missing.

And you can look as hard as you want to, but you’ll never, ever find them.

Hearts are like that.

When a heart breaks, the pieces are scattered everywhere.

It’s pretty simple to locate the larger bits-although putting them back in place is much harder than gluing together a fractured cup.

But those tiny bits elude me.

At almost four years I’ve had lots and lots of time to sort through what happened-at least in an intellectual way.

But what surprises me every time, no matter how often I pick through the debris like an archaeologist, is that I cannot find all the pieces.

I have hunted hardest for the pieces to the faith I knew before my world was torn asunder.

I can’t find even a vague semblance of that old feeling that used to be my bosom buddy-that the blessing and favor of the Lord was resting on my family’s shoulders. I can’t reclaim the confidence that I had at least a rough idea of how God works in the world.

I don’t feel as if God has abandoned me-but I do feel as if He’s pushed me in a corner.

And what I have to do now (have had to do all along) is decide:

Do I trust even when I cannot see how it all fits together or do I abandon my faith?

I have decided to hold on.

I have decided that it was foolish for me to think I could comprehend God in the first place. My experience hasn’t changed HIM, it’s changed ME.

It revealed a flaw in my logic. It gave me a glimpse into the vast chasm between what I thought I knew and what I actually knew.

There are so many things that cannot be known. I have no idea why I once thought that number small.

Is this frightening? Yes.

But it is also helpful.

As long as I’m looking for answers to every question, I will remain unsatisfied and unsettled until I find them. Understanding that I CANNOT “know it all” frees me to lean into my faith.

When Jesus was about to leave His disciples, He gave them this assurance:

“I’ve told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I’ve conquered the world.”

John 16:33 MSG

Unshakable and assured.

Wounded yet walking.

Fearful but faith-filled.

What is Safe?

I remember as a young mother of four working hard to keep my kids safe.

Next to fed and dry (two still in diapers!) that was each day’s goal: No one got hurt.

It never occurred to me THEN to add: No one got killed.

Because the most outlandish thing I could imagine was one of them falling or touching a hot stove and us having to rush to the emergency room.

Then I became a mother of teens and one by one they acquired a driver’s license and motored away from our home.

That’s when I began to beg God to spare their lives.

One particularly frightening test was when all four went to Louisiana-my eldest driving and the rest in the van with her. I made them call me every hour and tell me they were OK. It was the first time I realized that I could lose every one of them in a single instant should they crash-all my eggs in one basket.

I was glad when that day was over. Although the irony is they were no “safer” at the end of those 24 hours than they were at the beginning.

Because what I know now, but didn’t know then is this: There is no such thing as “safe”.

Not the way we like to think of it-not the way we add labels to devices, seat belts to cars, helmets to everything from bicycles to skateboards. Of course we should absolutely take precautions! Many lives are saved by them every single day.

But. BUT…

Life is more random than we want to admit. And there is no defense against random.

There is no way to screen for every underlying physical abnormality, no way to drive so well you can stop the drunk or inattentive driver from plowing through a stop sign, no way to anticipate every foolish choice a young person might make that ends in disaster instead of a funny story.

My first response when Dominic died driving his motorcycle was that I wanted my surviving sons to sell theirs. They did so out of respect for me. Neither of them wanted their mama to have to endure a second knock on the door and the same message delivered twice.

I receive it as a sacrifice offered in love from them.

Because it was.

Since Dominic left us almost four ( now five!) years ago, I have had to deal with my desperate need to keep my living children safe.

And it is a real struggle.

Each child is involved in a career that includes inherent risk. None of them are foolhardy, but they are exposed-perhaps more than many-to potential bad actors and dangerous circumstances.

julian and branch in snow — This branch fell just minutes after my son was standing in that spot splitting logs.

How I long for those days when I could tuck everyone in, turn out the lights and sleep soundly because all my chicks were safe inside my own little coop! How I wish the only danger I thought about or knew about was a bump on the head from hitting a coffee table!

How my heart aches for one more moment of blissful ignorance!

But I can’t live in some imagined water color past. I have to live in the world as it is.

So I remind my heart that safe is an illusion-no matter where we are. Life is not living if it’s only about preserving breath and not about making a difference.

And I let go.

Over and over and over.

I release them to be who they were meant to be.

Even if it costs more than I am willing to give.

Repost: Grieving With Hope

The church at Thessalonica was confused about some fundamental doctrines of the Christian faith. They were frightened that they had missed Christ’s second coming and they were concerned about loved ones that had preceded them in death. So Paul wrote this letter to remind them of truth and offer comfort in their emotional distress:

And regarding the question, friends, that has come up about what happens to those already dead and buried, we don’t want you in the dark any longer. First off, you must not carry on over them like people who have nothing to look forward to, as if the grave were the last word. Since Jesus died and broke loose from the grave, God will most certainly bring back to life those who died in Jesus. I Thessalonians 4:13-14 MSG

This verse is quoted often to believers who have lost a loved one. At first, gently, sweetly–as an invitation to remember that God is in control, that He has a plan, that the grave is not victorious and that burying the body is not the end.

And, in the early days and weeks after the funeral, it IS comforting–I chanted it to myself like a mantra and it drew my heart from the brink of despair.

But at some point, this verse begins to feel like a rebuke–the well-meaning friend says, “Don’t you know, that Jesus followers don’t grieve like those who have no hope!”

And I turn, dumbfounded, to the person saying this, and wonder, “Have you buried a child?”

Read the rest here: Grieving With Hope

You are Braver than You Think

Child loss is not the only devastating life circumstance that can make a person want to hide in bed.

Every single day, broken hearts, broken bodies and limping spirits open their eyes to the dawn and choose to get up and get going.

If that is you, I want you to know this:

You are strong.

You are brave.

You are not invisible.

You may never be recognized in this life for the heroic struggle you face every day but it counts.

Endurance is triumph.

Perseverance is conquest.

Choosing brave in the face of fear is victory.

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