Do Not Grow Weary and Lose Heart

Tonight when I was browsing on Facebook, I saw a post that I immediately shared on my timeline... words to a song by Laura Story called Blessings...What if your blessings come through raindrops? What if your healing comes through tears? What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near? What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?

My heart was touched...not only by this artist's insights into the questions we all struggle with...the whys of tragedies like Boston, West, Texas, Newtown, Aurora and countless other arenas closer to home, but no less painful. But I was also moved by the hundreds of comments that flooded in. The person who posted this message, Teresa Allissa Citro, asked people to share their prayer needs, where they were feeling weary and losing heart. I scrolled through the endless requests. I realized this wasn't just any social media post. On this ordinary Thursday night, I took time out from the kitchen clean-up. I laid the dish towel on the counter. I prayed for the woman whose son took his life in December, the single mom trying to make ends meet, though she's homeless and jobless. I prayed for others with chronic medical problems and financial concerns. I asked God to help those who feel despair, pain, and heartache. I prayed for hope.

I felt immersed in this extraordinary circle of prayer. I felt in awe for technology that allows us to come together across continents and countries as sisters in Christ. Even when we don't understand and we have more questions than answers, our hope is still in God...the One who is strength in our weakness, calm in the storm, comfort in our sorrow.

Laura Story's song speaks to this. I hope you'll take a few minutes to listen. You'll be blessed!

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 2 Corinthians 4:16   





  

 

A Holy Comfort for Our Grief

There are times when you know you've encountered a holy experience. Two weeks ago, on a Friday evening, friends gathered to remember our friend Melissa. She lost her agonizing battle with depression and took her life on a Saturday morning in early December.

We who knew her have reeled with shock and grief over her tragic loss at only 38-years old. A service was held in the new community where she and her family had relocated in October. Several close friends felt it was important to honor Melissa here, where she had made her home for at least a decade.

About two dozen of us sat in a large circle in the church fellowship hall. A slide show flashed pictures of Melissa and her family. We each told how we had come to know and love her. We cried and even laughed together, remembering the happy times. 

What could we have done differently? How could we have helped her through those dark times? Questions hung in the stillness. But each person spoke comfort where answers are hard to find. God is faithful, no matter what our circumstances, one close friend reminded. She talked about how Melissa's new church, a group of people who barely knew them, had rallied to support the grieving family. Another friend mentioned that Melissa's oldest son's teacher had also lost her mother to suicide when she was a child. God is certainly with those who are brokenhearted--even when we are at a loss to understand.

We held hands, sang a song together, and prayed for God to do what none of us can--to bring healing, peace, and comfort to all who grieve. Melissa's close friends had packed up all of her clothing and brought it to the church. Please take something, they urged. Her husband wanted it that way. When I walked into the hall and saw the tables of neatly folded and sorted clothing, I broke into tears. How could I take anything? I saw Melissa in so many of those garments. Then I sensed that it would be wrong not to take something. I picked up a raspberry colored top and instinctively held it close. Her friends had given me a precious gift.

A favorite place

Maybe you're walking through a season of grief, wondering how you'll make it through the next moment, not to mention a lifetime. I pray you'll know God's faithfulness and be comforted, just as we were on a cold, January night. 

 


   

God's Presence in the Dark Night

It's Saturday morning and I'm still wrapped in my bathrobe. Really, my favorite time of the week because I can sit quietly, no place to rush off to. Oh, there's plenty to do...get ready for winter projects, housework, all those chores that beg attention. But for this moment, I'll enjoy looking out at the dazzling blue skies, feeling a warm breeze through the open window. I'll soak in every moment of this final "summer" weekend. October is imminent and the weather here usually changes like clockwork. 

In this morning's quiet, I've been reading Deb Watson's incredibly touching book, Kiss Goodbye: The Story of God's Presence in the Dark Night.  I've read her story over several weeks, and each time I pick up her book, I feel as if I've been invited into a sacred and holy place.

I first "met" Deb on Twitter. I was scrolling through the daily tweets and saw one from Deb Watson who reported her excitement about her first book being published. I think because she and I share the same name and I know the feeling of a first book coming off the press, I twittered back to her.

Congratulations, Deb, I wrote. I pray your book will be successful! 

Then the conversation began. Deb answered that her book was about the death of her 19-year-old daughter. I felt the pang that only another mother can understand, even though I have never journeyed to the depths of grief as Deb and her family have. After I watched the book trailer for Kiss Goodbye, I emailed Deb again. She graciously offered to send me a copy of her book which I gratefully accepted.

I knew this would be a difficult read, but I had no idea how Deb's telling of her family's loss of their beautiful daughter and sister, Cathy, would completely draw me in as if I were there with her as a friend. Sitting in the livingroom with them in shock and disbelief the night of the tragic accident, anticipating all the "firsts" of those weeks and months after Cathy's death, or the longing for one friend to call or stop by on that first Christmas Eve without Cathy. And no one did.

Deb pulls aside the curtain of private family suffering and with her real and honest writing style, allows us to glimpse the intensity of raw pain in coming to terms with the loss of someone we dearly love. That she invites us complete strangers into this sacred, intensely personal place, is truly courageous.

In reading Kiss Goodbye, there is no doubt where this courage comes from. Woven through the anguish, is the inspiring message that God is faithful, no matter what our circumstances. We may each know that on different levels, based on our life experiences, but the Watson family's story underscores the truth of God's presence in any dark night, especially in the midst of unimaginable suffering--and that offers much hope and comfort to us other pilgrims on life's journey. For it isn't a matter of if we will ever experience the pain of losing someone we love, but when.  Deb's example gives me courage to believe that with God's grace and the support of loving family and friends, I too, will be able to walk through the valley of the shadow of death and come out on the other side.

Since I received Deb's book, I've had the wonderful privilege of talking with her on the phone. Hearing her voice resonate with compassion for others who are suffering, yet with unmistakable joy in living life as a devoted follower of Christ, is more solid evidence that the Lord does indeed use all things for good, even the most heartbreaking and hard to understand circumstances, for those who love him and are called according to his purpose.

Thank you, Deb, for your sharing your story and your friendship!