She always told me her problems, but one night she
poured her every woe into my unsuspecting hands. I sat beside her, hoping my
presence was a comfort. Crying real tears, she gushed all the fear, problems,
and pain she had been holding in all day.
I prayed in my head, “Lord, the wisest people I know
always say not to jump in and fix problems, so let me be a good listener and
friend. Oh, and when I do speak, I really need You to speak through me, because
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know.”
She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand, smudging
her dramatic black mascara. I rubbed her back and looked up at our mutual
friend with confused and weary eyes. But neither of us had the words to fix her
problems.
I was at a loss; it was one of those moments that I
can’t remember what I said because the Spirit took over. God answered my pleas
by filling my heart with a healthy dose of soul-relating, heart-breaking,
hands-reaching compassion.
But what my troubled heart said over and over was:
“I don’t know.”
Knowledge is so comforting, isn’t it? We feel secure
in our own stores of wisdom. Whenever we need to impress people or give advice,
we just dig up the facts we have stored up in our memory banks.
But in the messiest places, we don’t know what to do
or say.
When
we reach the end of our own strength, our hearts become quiet enough to hear
the Lord say, “I’ve got this.”
I don’t have to know.
It’s terrifying and reassuring at the same time. I
don’t have to know what the diagnosis is. I don’t have to know how to fix her
problems. I don’t have to know all the details of how to work it out. I don’t
have to know what they’re going through. I don’t have to know the reasons why.
Even when we don’t know, He does. God, who holds us
through the what-ifs and the might-haves and the what-nows, is ready for
anything that comes our way, so we don’t have to be.
Our only hope, our only confidence, is in the Lord. If
we can only reach the end of ourselves and stretch out our empty hands, hope
blossoms.
In a world that tells us to be independent, strong,
and smart enough to out-argue the other guy, our quiet dependence on the Lord
is beautiful and different.
It isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. Because when we
reach the end of ourselves, God is at work.
~Madeline
This is beautiful, Madeline. Well done, and well said.��
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mrs. Juli!
DeleteBeautifully written Madeline. I shared this with a friend of mine who is going through a rough time and she was incredibly blessed. Thank you and keep sharing!
ReplyDeleteI am so humbled that the Holy Spirit used my words to minister to your friend. Thanks for sharing!
DeleteLovely. Definitely a "do not delete" post.
ReplyDeleteAw! I hope the words keep speaking to you. :)
Delete