Answer to a Desperate Prayer

It's been a long time. But thanks to the encouragement I read here today I got to thinking about this blog again and realized that I did want to share. There has been so much. Where to start when I talk about the God who loves me and has never left me? He is always here, always near. I just want to share a little of Him with you.

I have a close family member who suffers from a mental disorder, and while it has been so difficult to face, I see God's care for that person often and it is beautiful and humbling. I can't understand why God makes people with disabilities, weaknesses and limitations like that. But I see that He does, and that mysteriously He works on their behalf. I even get the feeling that these weakest ones are precious to Him in a special way. I've struggled with how to pray for this person. Do I ask for healing? It seems like the most natural and obvious request. And yet, until recently, I knew that I could not ask in faith.

It took a time of real distress to move me to beg my Father. This dear person's behavior was becoming unmanageable to everyone-- family, caregivers, peers. In desperation I begged God for help. Do something, Lord, I beg you. This can't go on I cried. And I persisted. I sat on my knees before God and poured out my heart to Him from the depths, and then waited for an answer. I knew He was real. I knew He loved me without doubt. And dwelling on those truths, it was like my mind began to clear. He knew this person's need. And He was GOD. No one above Him. "Jesus, if you are willing, you can make this person well." And I believed it.

Then I felt like He was asking me, "What do you want Me to do?" So I considered it and prayed specifically for their ability to have relationships, to love and be loved, to be aware of those around them. And then there was peace. I knew something had happened.

I didn't tell anyone about the prayer. But that night my mom was raving to me on the phone about the sudden difference that she saw in this person. He was interacting on a deeper level, seeking out relationships. He was fun and pleasant to be with, communicating clearly.

I cried. This is the God we serve. He touches a broken world. And nothing is too hard for Him to do. There have been times my prayers were met with a "no"...but He spoke it to my heart. It wasn't "no" by default; I didn't assume He'd said no because I hadn't seen anything happen. And to hear Him speak even the "no"s, is blessing. Because nothing compares to this relationship with Him, to be in His presence and be His. He's not a genie in the sky; He's my Father who sees my need and cares tenderly for me, always giving what is best.

Psalm 23

Recently we moved to a new home back in my hometown. We had been looking for a place with a yard for our energetic, growing kids...being on the top floor of an apartment building just wasn't working out so well anymore. We were looking at two places and I just wasn't sure what would be good. I had some reservations about each place and was really torn about what would be the right place to move to, if either would be. There was just no way to know. So I prayed, and I thought about Psalm 23. "You make me lie down in green pastures; You lead me beside the quiet waters..." And so I told the Lord that I knew He was my good shepherd and asked Him to lead us to the good pasture, wherever He knew that would be and no matter how I felt about it. It's hard to explain but somehow I then *knew* which was the right place to go. I didn't feel it...I still had feelings of reservation...yet at the same time I knew that they would be resolved; that everything would work out.

Now here we are. All of my concerns ended up being nothing. We love our new place. There is peace here. The kids are happy and enjoy the yard. The street is lovely with green trees and lots of birds and flowers. The neighbors are great...green pasture. It really is everything I needed and wanted and I am so grateful to my shepherd.

When my anxious thoughts multiply within me,
Thy consolations delight my soul

Ps 94:19

Coming up short

Lately I've had a lot to do and just haven't been able to do any of it. or hardly any of it. And what I do get done I feel like its not done very well. So I've been sad and feeling pretty weak. Its a good place to be, because like all these other times in my life when I've felt low, I've been in a place of wonderful communion with God. I have to seek Him on purpose because it doesn't come naturally at all. But I need Him so I go. And I really find Him near. ("Draw near to God and He will draw near to you." So easy to forget that the first part is a conscious choice on our part--its up to us!)

But this feeling of coming up short in everything has affected my relationship with Him too. I found myself praying today and desperately seeking out something in me that must be keeping us apart. I felt distant in some way from Him. I thought I needed to be closer or should be and that the distant feeling was because I was not really giving myself to Him somehow. Like everything else in life I figured I was coming up short in His eyes too.

So I kept jabbering on in prayer asking Him to show me what needed to change, when He broke in and said, "Child, I delight in you." Huh? That didn't seem to answer the question, yet it gave me so much peace. But then it became clear. I had been trying to make myself more lovable to Him and was frightened I wouldn't find the right words or do the right thing. But I'm seeking Him, and that's what he asks. "Seek Me and find Me when you seek with all your heart." And "Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness and all these things will be added to you as well." It's not about being right so much as just running after Him, being with Him. That pleases His heart. And then He'll lead us "in paths of righteousness for His name's sake."

The will to forget

Jesus, you know just how far the east is from the west. But I had forgotten. My daughter was in the backseat, groggy after being lifted out of bed at 11pm, and unhappy after having her little arm maneuvered through the shoulderbelt again. I was unhappy that she was unhappy, because it was my fault. Or so I kept telling myself.

Earlier in the day we were headed out the door for a children's event and in her excitement she slipped out the front door ahead of me and went straight for the stairs. Her brother was lagging behind, being naughty. I had one hand free so I snatched up my little girl from the precipice of the stairs, envisioning her fall end over end to the bottom. She cried in protest, but I was dealing with Mr Little Naughty pants who'd decided to drag blankie along on our walk rather than leave it on the couch as I had instructed. My little girl kept on crying. In a few minutes I started to get the idea that she was really hurting, not just angry at me. And an hour later when even being in my arms was no consolation, I knew it was for real. She was in pain, and it was my fault.

I guess you're probably thinking that I shouldn't be too hard on myself. After all, I was trying to protect her from a fall. And I suppose you're right, but I couldn't get over it. All those tears. She was in pain. And my mind went over and over the what-ifs. What if I hadn't let her out ahead of me? What if I hadn't been upset at my son...was I too rough with her? What if I had thought more clearly and not overreacted? Been more gentle? When my husband found out after work about what had happened, he seemed shocked that I hadn't already taken her to the doctor. It was by then 7pm and she wouldn't use the arm and cried if you touched it. What if I hadn't taken her to the doctor fast enough? I thought it was a pulled muscle, but what if I was wrong?

Driving to the ER at 11pm, I was in a dark place. By the time I was pulling into the parking lot at the hospital I was feeling as though my husband would leave me and that my kids would be better off without me. Some part of me tried to take a stand of faith. No, God's grace can cover this sin too. He can make good come of this. But all night I had been sipping a dangerous cocktail of fear and self-pity, and I couldn't summon up the faith. Weeping, I cried out and begged God to break into my world and speak to me.

I had been listening to Christian radio, hoping for something to encourage me, but up to that moment all of the songs had been of the happy do-wop variety, innocuous. But with the next song that came on, it felt as if Jesus were in the car with me. It was a Casting Crowns' song, a favorite of mine, and the words go like this:


Here I am, Lord, and I'm drowning in your sea of forgetfulness
The chains of yesterday surround me
I yearn for peace and rest
I don't want to end up where You found me
And it echoes in my mind, keeps me awake tonight
I know You've cast my sin as far as the east is from the west
And I stand before You now as though I've never sinned
But today I feel like I'm just one mistake away from You leaving me this way

Jesus, can You show me just how far the east is from the west
'cause I can't bear to see the man I've been come rising up in me again
In the arms of Your mercy I find rest
'cause You know just how far the east is from the west
From one scarred hand to the other

I start the day, the war begins, endless reminding of my sin
Time and time again Your truth is drowned out by the storm I'm in
Today I feel like I'm just one mistake away from You leaving me this way

I know You've washed me white, turned my darkness into light
I need Your peace to get me through, to get me through this night
I can't live by what I feel, but by the truth Your word reveals
I'm not holding on to You, but You're holding on to me
You're holding on to me

I wept. As far as the east is from the west. I don't have to see the man I've been come rising up in my again. In the arms of Your mercy I find rest.

When the song got to the bridge, it was as though Jesus was in the car speaking directly to me in His own voice and not the song. Can't live by what I feel, but by the truth your word reveals. I'm not holding on to You, but You're holding on to me. Not by what I feel. I had known better, but I had caved to feelings. But it was forgiven. He was holding on to me even when I had let go of His hand.

From that moment on I had to willfully reject the thoughts that condemned me. He had condemned my condemnation. In the face of doctors who I could tell didn't believe my story about what had happened, looking at me with veiled contempt for clearly having abused my daughter and lied about it. When my daughter was screaming on the X-ray table as her hurting arm was bent and shaped to the Tech's needs. When they wrapped her little arm in a splint that I knew would be a daily reminder to me of my failure to keep her from harm. "There is therefore now no condemnation for those that are in Christ Jesus."


Will I be more thoughtful and careful? yes. Will I cry when she continues to heal and hurt? oh yes. And will I walk in Jesus' sea of forgetfulness? Yes, I must. For He has forgiven and forgotten whatever wrongdoing I committed, and He is my Lord. And it occurs to me that maybe my constant self-reminding and self condemning is a greater sin than having been too hasty and rough on my little girl. If I reject Him and embrace condemnation, what hope is left for me? And how can I reject a forgiveness that cost Him so much, just so I can hate myself? It doesn't even make sense.

So today when my little girl wakes up, I'm going to love her through the pain, not waste energy beating myself up. That is what God requires of me right now. We live in the now and walk with God in the now. "Then" has been cast as far as the east is from the west.

Only dust

Yesterday was a hard one with the kids. They seemed unusually naughty and I felt unusually wiped out, and unable to cope. I didn't have any idea how to be a good mom, or what they needed. And honestly, my mind was often on what *I* most needed--some peace and a good nap.

I felt really badly about how I had handled the day's trials, and at Bible study last night I shared about what I was feeling with the group, and got some encouragement. One friend reminded me not to be too hard on myself, and I appreciated the reminder. But on the drive home I got to wondering, "Why? If I'm not hard on myself, is that being too relaxed about my sinfulness? Is that just taking advantage of God's grace?"

My fatigue kept plaguing me, and I barely had the strength to consider the answer to the question. I realized that I just don't have anything to give some days. And I told God so. And He answered back to my heart--Of course you have nothing to give; you are only made of dust. You were made to be filled with Me. And I realized that, once again, I was trying to do everything in my own strength, with my own goodness, but I had none. And I was never meant to walk apart from my Maker's presence, on my own strength. It was to be filled with His life and goodness that I was made--like an empty pot.

This morning, I called my Mom to see if she could take the kids for awhile, but she couldn't. And I just wanted to curl up in a ball in bed and be alone! But every time I have turned my heart to my Heavenly Father, I've found strength and wisdom and kindness enough to be Mom today. And to be me. One day I hope that I won't have to keep repeatedly turning to Him and offering my will and desires back to Him. I hope I can just BE with Him, all day. But I am so thankful that I CAN keep turning back and finding what I need moment by moment as I surrender.

I know if I keep entrusting my heart & life to Him, He'll keep caring for me, and for others through me.

An 11:11 Wish

The last couple of weeks have been hard for me. I'm not the type of person who likes to make waves with others. I usually avoid it. Whenever anyone is upset with me or disagrees with me, I feel like I am the one who is wrong and even feel badly or guilty. And when I share the things that I feel so deeply convicted about as being true about God and how He wants to interact with us, I get really nervous. Everyday I pray, earnestly asking God not to let me speak (or write) anything untrue, but only what is true and what He wants people to know. And everyday I find myself moved to share honestly, and I agonize over the words I choose, always checking my heart to make sure I write from a desire to help others and never to make myself look smart or manipulate anyone. And sometimes, I do feel the Spirit stop me or convict me.

About 10 days ago my sister in law suggested I write a Facebook post about the Trinity, since I told her what I had learned about it had been so influential in my life. I balked at the suggestion, knowing that what I would have to write would be the most controversial thing I had ever said (or at least feel that way). If I weren't me, I would write angry comments like "Who do you think you are?" in response. Yet I grew up feeling like I was missing something in my faith, and God generously spoke into my life to guide me closer to Him. It seemed like something worth sharing.

Anyway, I've lived in a state of anxiety for awhile now, and after the last post I felt like I needed some help. Some encouragement. I wished I were stronger and could just keep going, and I suppose I could, but last night at 11:11 God asked me what I wished for. When I was a child I used to play a game with a friend where everyday at 11:11 we'd make a wish, since it was the only time that all of the numbers were the same. So it struck me funny that God would play that game with me, but I felt His touch and knew it was Him. So I thought for a moment and told Him I needed some encouragement.

This morning first thing I got a timely word of encouragement from an unexpected source. It was exactly what i needed to hear, though I could not have guessed beforehand just what would buoy me up so well. Thank God for His kindness toward us, who are so weak.