Sometimes the naked cruelty and sin of others is like a jackhammer right over my heart. I am wallowing in misery. I want someone, anyone to get it. Sheep that I am, I need compassion, understanding, support; I cannot right myself when I’m flat on my back and feel oppression and the seeming tears of the universe battering me with more than I can bear.
Editorial pause here: I went to Google, thinking ‘bear’, above, wasn’t spelled correctly and a video I’ve never seen before pops up on You Tube of Kirk Franklin singing, ‘He’ll Never Put More on Me, Than I Can Bear’. I bawled my eyes out for about five minutes.
Lord, I know this. I know I am yoked with you, that you understand my heavy heart. The gift of this surprise video moment is that reminders of your boundless love for me bring me immediate connection to your empathy and validation of my suffering.
Way before I opened my journal this morning, to start writing to you Lord, I noticed a FB post from Renee Swope, Proverbs 31 Ministries, talking about how negative words can hurt us and cut us to the quick, ending with Hebrews 4:12: “The Word is sharp and active, sharper than any two edged sword” and I ran back to your feet, ready to learn. Your sword will cut through my cocoon of misery and sear the wounds in my soul with the white-hot power of your great love for me. Just typing this centers me.
I know whom I believe and I need to run to you alone, to your presence, and pour out my deep wounds and let you nurture me while I recover. Why do I do this again and again; expect people to do what only you can, simply to end up feeling worse for my trouble? It’s the awful, down side of isolating loneliness. When I am at my lowest point I turn inward and think the thing I need most is someone, anyone, to wrap their arms around me and say it will be OK, to make me a cup of tea, to let me pour out my tears and then point me to you. But human comfort is sometimes a risky endeavor. Baggage can come up and twist itself into an arrow pointed at me whispering a translation that pronounces ‘you must have done something to deserve this’ or, ‘I’ve had worse hurts than you, get over it’ or any other self-righteous, or even well-intended suggestions which my hyper-sensitive mind can pounce on and flail myself further. So human; so sheep-like; to want my Shepherd in person and because that’s just not possible, reach out to whomever is in the ripple effect of my dive into the black lake of misery.
So here I am, dry eyed for now. Sometimes the healing is quick, sometimes we have to recover. This complex wound will be a recovery and will take time, prayer, and all the moments I can spend in your Word. Instead of isolation and soul vulnerability, I need boundaries; to keep myself close to you, pour it all out to you, striving for gentleness to myself, in the process. When I do that, I can pray about those whom I am heartbroken over, then watch you do what only you can. How I love you, Lord. I can never repay you, but I can love you with all my heart, soul, strength and spirit, which is what you’ve asked for. I so look forward to the moment I see your face and hear your beautiful, kind voice.
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7
Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls, for My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Math 11:28-30
His speech is smooth as butter, yet war is in his heart; his words are more soothing than oil, yet they are drawn swords. Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let he righteous fail. Psalm 55:21-22