Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #22 Depth of Sadness

Depth of Sadness

Down in the bedrock, 

far below the surface.

Streams of groundwater run and churn.

Filling the pores,

seeps into the cracks of my soul, 

The sadness flows deep and wide.  

Creeping and edging through.

Pressure pushes and pulls, 

This grief.  This pain.

Mostly quiet, even unknown.

Almost always unnoticed and unseen,

Rarely will it rise.

Today it threatens a flood.

Noah's springs of the deep roar and rumble.

The agony has reached it's tipping point.

Will it finally be heard?

Spill up and over.

Pour out and destroy.

Will the aquifer reach it's limit?

Will the confined boundaries be overcome?

Eruption of furry and flood.

Will the sadness win and have it's say?

Destroying all that is wicked on the surface.

Washing, finally.  Bringing justice!

Will the façade be toppled?

The earth be cleansed.

The floodgates finally opened wide.

O! These underground streams!  

The sorrow coursing through the foundations.

Living, growing and building all these years.

I hear you.  I see you.  I honour and listen. 

I welcome your voice.  

Pour forth, rise up, and make me whole.

Written September 2020

"Let your tears flow like a river...Pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord"

 (Lamentations 2:18,19)

"It is better to enter a house of mourning than a house of feasting, since death is the end of every man, and the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for a sad countenance is good for the heart. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure."  

(Ecclesiastes 7:3)

Aquifer 

 

Sad is Okay, Too

I see it in your eyes.  I see the emotion.

All of me wants you to know, "It's really okay to be sad." I see it and I want you to express it.  Please don't hide it from me.

You really don't have to tell me "it's good".  I know.  You know.  We both know.  Of course, it will all be fine, it is good and God is good.  I know that you know this.  We both know this!

Instead, please, friend, just feel the sadness and the pain.  Can you let yourself acknowledge the suffering and the difficulty that is real---the difficulty of the now?

Tears come.  They well up and want to spill out.  I see them.  You feel them. I know you do.  I see your 'fight' turn on.  As tears begin to spill out of your eyes, I watch your embarrassment.  Is it shame? You wipe your eyes, you press your fingers over your nose, you push, you wipe, you press, you apologize... everything in you is trying to hold back the tsunami of tears.  The sadness is real.

Please, can you just let yourself have a moment?  Can you let yourself have an hour, a day... a month... and acknowledge that this hurts?

Why do we judge ourselves and our feelings?  We all do it.

God-given gifts---feelings.  Our feelings are not for judging--- they just are.  Feelings--- all of them---just are.  They are data points.  Why must we put them into a box.  Negative feelings vs. positive feelings.  Bad vs. good.  Why don't we just let them be a fact, for a moment?  I have blond hair and green eyes.  I am 5 foot 6 inches.  Facts.

I am sad.  I am angry.  I hurt right now.  I am scared.  Facts, just the same.

You speak too soon, I think, of the "good" or of the "truth"--- making every effort to make yourself "okay", or trying to make sure I am "okay" watching your pain.  I am okay.  And, sadness is okay, too?  Oh, how we all want to escape the pain, run away from the hard... or, at least, make you think something else of me.

I see it friend.  Please let the sadness have it's say.  I promise we will lean into the good a bit later.  We will rehearse truth further on...  I promise.

Happy and sad can live in the same place, at the same time.  But, I see the pain now.  I see it in your eyes. I welcome it.

Would you trust me with the tears?

Rugged, rough places in My Soul

I felt deep sadness.  I know his words were not meant to hurt.  He would never intentionally want to hurt me, I know this.  But, instantly, I could feel the pain welling.  The tears rose, slowly brimming at the edge---threatening to spill over.  Later, in the quietness and stillness of the morning hours, I could let them pour forth.  Sadness.  Just deep, profound sadness.  

Learning to stay curious about my emotions has been life changing.  I am so grateful for this gift.  

Why, Lord?  Not an intellectual question, as such... but, a soul question.  A question of wonder, awe, and simple curiosity.  I am asking God, the One who knows and sees all, to show me to me.  

Why, Lord?  Why did his words pain me so?  

It's old... deep, and old.  

Old, past wounds were surfacing with the simple scratch of his now words.  They touched something deep.  They touched a young me.  They hurt.  Not because he was hurting me.  They hurt because there was a painful spot, deep within, that was being poked.  Call it scars.  Call it a sore spot.  His words touched something before...  

But, we've looked at these many times, Lord.  

Yes, many, many times.  

So, why is this coming up again?  Why, Lord?  It feels so fresh.  Show me, Lord.  Show me, me.  

My life is dripping with abundance.  Truly.   So, why this sadness today?  It's not about today.

I asked and I sat.  I cried and I prayed.  I journaled.  I picked up the Scriptures and He opened my eyes, again, to His big, grand why-plan...  

In Isaiah 40, God speaks so tenderly to the heart of His people.  He tells them to be comforted. Comfort, comfort we hear Him say.  What comes in the next section surprised me and jumped off the page at me today...   They can be comforted because their sin is forgiven AND because..."Every valley shall be raised up.  Every mountain will be made low.  Every rugged and crooked place straight.  The rough places will be made a plain."(Isaiah 40:4)

This is WHY... this is the why-plan God is activating in my life as I stay curious about my painful, wounded past hurts.  

The truth is, in all of us---every. single. one.--- there are valley places, crooked places, and rough places in our souls.  He loving heart is to smooth us out.  He is clearing out the debris.  He is straightening out the wrong, bent parts of me.  Making me... inside me... a straight, plain place.  He is making me a green pasture.  

The words said to me this morning were not meant to hurt me, I know that.  They were innocent words that happened to fall upon a crooked place in me.  In the quiet and the stillness of moments with God, I can visit those crooked, bent places and have a look.  With Him, I can look intently at the pain.  I see the data point that is my strong, painful emotions.  I stay curious and ask the Spirit of the Lord, who knows all things, to show to me, myself.  And, I trust His work to raise up those valleys.  

Have Your good and loving way in me, Lord!  

A Friend's Lament...Tears as Intercession

When I heard the news, I immediately burst into tears!

Tragedy struck my friend's family last weekend and I could barely believe my eyes as I read.  NO!  I can't possibly be understanding this correctly... No, Lord... NO!

The stream of tears surprised me.  Tears, like I have said before, are not a norm for me... and yet, they came like a torrent.  I wept for my friend.  I wept for the loss of a brother.  I wept for the children. Very few words... only tears.

It was as if the Lord was allowing me to feel, just a small tiny bit, of what she and her kiddos must be feeling when they heard that their father was gone.  ...in an instant.  One car.   One moment.  And, his life here on earth was over.

The shock.  The trauma.  The confusion. The pain.  ...oh! the grief, Lord!

While, I know, we don't grieve like those without faith... (1 Thessalonians 4:13) We have a great and enduring hope!  I am certain, without any shadow, where this man who loved God is now living--- oh! the glory of the resurrection! 

BUT, while we don't grieve without hope; we do still grieve.  We must grieve.  We must lament. We turn our hearts and our tears into a Psalm to set before the Father's heart.   When I read the news, I wanted to wail, to rend my garments and put ash on my head.

Our hearts are made for eternity.  Death is a separation that cuts and bleeds and tears at our very God-made natures.  We know we are made for more... for always-togetherness.  Death feels like a harsh blow in the now.

For days now, I have been carrying this friend.  Night and day.  As if I am walking so very closely to these dear ones.  It is like I can hear their hearts, feel their cries.  I have been feeling deep and profound sadness for days.  "When one part of the body hurts, the whole of the body hurts."  (1 Corinthians 12:26)  I know I am not alone in this pain-carrying.  I see it on social media.  Others are affected by this loss of a friend, a brother, a mentor.  We grieve and we pray.  We worship and we try to lend a hand.  What else do we have?

I believe that God gifts us with this grief-intercession in order to bear the burden and lighten the load. Jesus Himself is the "light" yoke (Matthew 11:28)--- and we are His hands, feet, mouth, and His eyes as we cry.

Lord, may my tears to you be an offering---an intercession.  Would You count all our tears as we grieve and would You have mercy and hear our cry?  We know this world is not our home.  We put our trust in You alone.  We believe that You are the God of all comfort; that you, Jesus are a man of sorrows, well acquainted with suffering.  Oh! How this mamma and those children need You right now.  We ask, ...we know..., that you will come alongside and cover.  Just as their daddy once covered... would You be their shield and their rock; their strong tower in the midst of this time of trouble.  

~~To support and carry this family, please consider giving to their go-fund-me account. We can lend a hand and lighten the load, even if only slightly.

Life Long Journey of Grace

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It's a journey of grace, my sweet son.

Every day.  Needed grace...

My son has been reading a great book, Growing Up Christian by Mark Jacobsen.  In this book the author challenges students to take their faith in God seriously... to make it "there own".  He pokes a bit at the non-Christian student living in the home of Christian parents.  He wants his readers to think, to analyze, and to test their faith.  He writes in a winsome way, to be sure; but, my eleven year old son hears something different as he reads.  He has taken it to heart so seriously that he has been in tears a few times.

Confused.  Agitated.  Upset.  Am I even a real Christian, Mom?...  he has wondered and questioned out-loud.

It is journey of grace, my son.  A journey... one foot in front of the other.  

My son deeply loves God.  My son also struggles with the need to be perfect; or the desire to be "already done".  He struggles with frustration and defensiveness with his own weakness and sin.  He wants to be perfect today.  Yesterday would have been nice.

Hmmm...just like his Mamma.  Nature or nurture?  I don't know.  But, I heard his heart and knew his pain as he struggled through today's chapter on pride.  He questioned and felt angst!  I think he was even angry at the book.  I get it.

In this chapter, Mark Jacobsen is inviting the reader to a sweet adventure in humility.  He is pointing out the difficulty of pride in our lives.  He is offering suggestions and pathways to walk to becoming more humble. Very helpful, for sure.  But, to my son, he heard condemnation.  He grieved the fact that he isn't there yet.

I am so prideful, Mom!  

And, if I am honest (which Jacobsen encourages), I don't even really want to be humble at all!   All this was said with exasperation and frustration--- not with the author, exactly, but with himself.

His father's words were priceless... "Oh, buddy, don't worry... you will be struggling with your pride for years to come!"  We all laughed.

One foot in front of the other...

It is a journey of grace, my boy.  Every day.  All day.  Needed grace.  

I keep telling my son... and telling myself... that perfection is not for today and probably not tomorrow either. He chuckles when I say this.  So, do I.    Of course it isn't!?  We can laugh together at our insecurities and our quirks.

Perfection isn't for today; but, instead we have just grace.  Just simple, marvelous, unexplainable, incredible grace.

I remind him often that we have fresh mercy every day and we can fall into His unfailing love and faithfulness.  Just as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, he will indeed sin or at the least he will want to sin.  And, just as sure as the sun will set tomorrow, God has grace for that too...

I need it today.  You?  I need that never-ending, abundant grace poured out from my loving Father.

Every day.

Get out of the car!

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It is truly amazing what a bit of time, a bit of space and whole lot of quiet will open up in the soul.

Why is it so natural for me to feel like a "bother", Lord?  What is this?  

This is where our conversation started.  Quiet and space---a special set aside time away with the Lord--- allowed for me to dive deeper, sit longer and listen.

I feel like I am always bothering people...  with my issues, my needs, my emails, my phone calls, my sharing, or my posts.  I know this is a feeling---not a reality---but, it is a strong feeling, Lord.  Why do I have this?  Where did this all begin, Holy Spirit?  Please show me...  

This isn't the first time I have questioned the Lord regarding my soul and my painful places...  I have learned this wonderful technique of listening prayer from a dear friend and mentor.  "Wholeness prayer" is what she calls it.  Simply put, God guides, answers and leads us forward to wholeness through prayer: a simple conversation.  And, I have seen such amazing victory in my life and the lives of many others using this type of prayer.

I often ask the Lord these kinds of questions about many areas of my life.  Why am I so worried about my health---so afraid of loss---so angry about this event---so drawn to this sin, Lord?  Where did it start?  Show me Your truth, Your Light, I ask.  Please show me You, God!  

Do you see a stuck place in your life?  ...ask the Lord about it.
Why am I stuck with this same response, Lord?  Why is this so hard for me?  And then listen.  Sit and listen.

What do you see in your mind's eye, what might His Spirit whisper into your heart, what Scripture comes to mind, or what memory floods?

Tell Him what you are seeing, sensing, feeling as you listen... converse with Him.  He is a real Person---a very real Counselor that knows you inside and out.

When did I begin to feel like a "bother"? Where did this start, Lord?  Or, when did I begin to feel this way?  

As I sat and listened, after some time, I remembered an event from my teen years.  I had visited a trusted mentor with a problem.  I had walked into their office and began to share, ...to cry, ...to vent.  During the time and even as I remembered this memory (these 23 years later), it became very clear that this person was agitated, annoyed and distinctly bothered by my sharing.  I don't know that they said so directly, with words... in fact, I am sure they probably didn't.  But, their frustration with my pain was clear and loud.   They were bothered by me, by my tears and by my sharing.  I was clearly "in the way".  A bother.

As I sat and thought over the memory, asking the Lord, "Show me your truth, Lord Jesus"  The memory continued.  I remember getting up from my seat, exiting the office quickly and getting into my car to drive away.  This isn't my imagination---this is a memory.  At the time, I remember thinking, very distinctly, as I buckled my seat belt, "Just shut up, Stephanie!"  Click.  Buckled in.  "I won't ever share like that again!", I vowed in my heart.

Hmmm....

I believe this is what the Lord wanted me to see...

As I sat with this image and the shame of the moment---deep shame, visceral shame flooded me at that time and even flooded me afresh as I remembered how embarrassed I was with my "behavior" (how dare I share my heart so vulnerably and smack dab in the middle of the day!)--- I asked the Spirit of Christ again, "Please Lord show me Your Truth, Your light.  What are Your thoughts."  

Even as I asked, I had a clear answer...  Get out of the car.  Unbuckle your seat belt and get out of the car! 

Get out of the car?  was my response to this thought.  Really?  Is this from You, Lord?  

It isn't what I was expecting, to be sure.  I was expecting something akin to, "You are my beloved daughter. I am always listening to you.  Or, I see you."  But, nope.  Get out of the car, Stephanie.

It took nearly 20 minutes and many, many times re-asking the Lord what His thoughts were...

Until I finally, in my mind's eye-now (not a memory), finally... with prayerful imagination, I unbuckled my seat belt and stepped out of the car.

In that moment, deep relief flooded my heart!  One moment of obedience and submission of spirit--courage to prayerfully "step out of the car" and bam!---peace.  Deep peace flooded.    It is hard to describe.

He knew that that moment in time---20 years ago-- I had made a choice of will to listen to the lies of the enemy!  The enemy of my soul had told me to shut up and stop sharing.  And, I chose to buckle myself into the lie.  Click.  Buckled down and silenced.

Yesterday, it was a response of my will, my spirit and my trust to unbuckle that lie...  and silence the Liar and Destroyer.  It was sweet release.

In my mind's eye, I saw myself... Stephanie, 17 years of age.... standing on the outside of the car.  Breathing fresh air!  Free. Free to be me.  To share and to keep "pestering" with my vulnerability and my weakness.  Free to cry.  And, free to play.  Free from the thoughts of that mentor, free from what they believed about me.

Free.

I am sure that I will still struggle with feeling I am a "bother" from time to time.  There are deeper places for the Lord and I to dive-into... in His time.  But, I will have this special moment of Light and Truth to take into the battle for freedom.

This freedom is only one amazing benefit from a bit of space, a bit of time and whole lot of quiet.

Healthy Tears

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She really does cry a lot.   My sweet girl.

She can cry easily when angry or sad.  She can cry when she is happy or surprised.

In fact, she cried again on Sunday.  She was sharing about a loved one that is in pain and hurting.  She wanted prayer.  She cried her way through the request and the prayer.  It worried the youth leader a bit, I think.  It doesn't worry me.

She cries while she worships and she cries while talking about friends she loves.  She cries while others gather around and pray.  Compassion, justice and mercy issues being one of the top "sure" things that will make this sweet girl cry.  Tears come very freely to her and I truly, genuinely love this about her.

I love that she cries.

You see, I can't.  I have trouble crying.  I always have.  Well, I should say, I always have---as far as I can remember.  Did I cry more at one time in my life, I don't know.   But, in these adult years... these past 20 years, to be sure... tears are hard to come by for me.  It isn't that I am not sad.  It isn't that I don't have sadness and pain that could fill a bucket of tears.  I do.  I just can't seem to cry them out.   I am learning.  And, I am crying a bit more these days.  I have indeed asked God for this gift of tears.  And, He has answered slowly.    But tears don't flow freely for me like they do for my girl.

Free flowing.  Freedom.

Last night before bed she asked her daddy how it is that I contain my emotions so easily.  She was asking, so it seemed, in manner of admiration.  How does Mom do it?! she wanted to know.  She wanted to learn the trick.


Oh!  Baby-girl, you don't need to learn how to suppress tears!  Yes, there are appropriate times and places.  And, you will learn that.  You are learning that, already.  But, please don't learn from me how to not cry!  Your tears are beautiful.  Just beautiful.  Please keep crying.  

Today in science, we read the most fascinating thing about tears.  Did you know that the tears you shed while cutting an onion, or getting sand in your face, are different than the tears you shed when you feel a strong emotion?  These two type of tears are unique from each other and have different chemicals.  One has the chemicals needed to protect the eye and fight off disease.  The other, the emotional tears, have three remarkable, medicating chemicals to help you handle the strong emotions.

"These chemicals include manganse [to calm you], luicine-enkephalin [a chemical to control pain], and the adrenocorticotrophic hormone [to help cope with stress].  When you get rid of these chemicals by crying, the net effect is to make you feel better.  By releasing these toxins, then, the tears serve to chemically and physically make you feel less depressed!  Thus, it really is true that you tend to feel better after a good, long cry.  ...the emotional tears we shed are a gift from a Designer.  Since He built in us the capacity for emotions, He also built in us the ability to deal with those emotions.  One of those is the ability to sit down and have a good, long cry." ~  Dr. Jay L Wile, Exploring Creation with General Science.  

My girl smiled big when we read this section today.  She laughed and said, "I must be very healthy-- Releasing all those toxins!"  She isn't wrong.

She is healthy!  It must be because she cries alot.

Advent Grief

One of the difficulties of living and working overseas is that bad news comes in the form of black-typed letters on a computer screen.

The email.  That dreaded, infamous email.

...news of a terminal illness, or a cancer found.  In "the inbox" these emails slide in quietly and sit, hidden like a landmine under the earth, ...just one click and bam! bad news on the screen.

But, yesterday the news felt even heavier to my soul than a disease, or even the terminal illness.  I heard news of sin.  From two separate corners of the globe came news of sin.

Sin in the camp.

This was not news of bad choices being made by unbelievers or the unredeemed,... no.  This is sin--- heavy and dark sin---found and revealed inside the fold.  Habitual sin that lingers and destroys...

Does it matter what the sin is?  Scripture tells us to "put to death whatever belongs to your earthly nature:  sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry".  He tell us to, "get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice".

The sins that destroy... anger, greed, lust, slander, impurity...

My heart sank at the news found in these emails.

Where do I go when I feel this way?  When I feel angry and frustrated with Your people, Lord?
My natural-Stephanie response to sin in myself  and in others is usually one of anger or frustration.  But, I need Your heart, Lord.

I lifted my hands and asked...  What is it that you feel, Father?  What say You?  
When You look on, when You draw near, how do You feel, Jesus?  What is Your heart on the matter, Spirit of God?  These questioning words flowed from my gut as I held my hands out and up to the Lord.

In that moment, that quiet moment in my bedroom, I felt deep, heart-wrenching sadness.  A wash of profound sadness flooded my soul.   Is this what You feel God Almighty? 


I can't presume to know God's feelings.  But, in that moment, did He share just a piece of His heart with me?  Waves of grief filled my soul at the thought of His children walking in sin---so unnecessarily bound and caught in the cycle of habitual sin.  It doesn't have to be this way.


Oh, Jesus!! my heart cried out as my eyes welled with tears.
Oh dear Jesus!  It is not as it should be.  Oh, my God, I am so sorry.  I grieve with you, you the Son of Man, the Man of sorrows---well acquainted with grief.  


Brothers, these things ought not be so!  He has freed us from sin by His blood and has made us a Kingdom of Priests, holy to Him!  
   
For days now I have been meditating on the anticipation and hope of advent.  Waiting with expectation, I have turned my heart up and out and I have worshiped.  I have tasted just a small bit of the joy and the hope that Simeon and Anna may have felt waiting for the consolation of Israel.

But, just like the first Christmas, there is still significant pain around the corner.  The thoughts of many hearts will be revealed and a sword will pierce you very own soul!  

For, the story does not end at the manger or the temple with Simeon's prophecy.   Nor does it end at the cross or tomb!  No, no...
This epic journey ends when Jesus comes the second time with King of Kings written on His thigh.  The end comes when all sadness is wiped away!  My Man of Sorrow will weep no more...

He will make all things new!  He will eat with His clean, white, pure Bride.  He will heal the nations and we will see His face.The story ends with the brilliant Second Advent!  I can wait patiently and hope in You alone, my God.  

Feeling the lingering sadness left by the coming news of sin... this is where I turn my heart and my face today!

And I say with John, "Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!"  (Revelation 22)

Rejoice, Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.  

A Wet Map

Sometimes I find it difficult to write about tender moment here. I find myself feeling shy about blogging moments that are so sweet, so special, so painful, so... wordless, really. And yet, I know that my journey in writing has significantly impacted my lessons-learned. My Father has used the act of writing itself as an integral avenue to solidifying experiences.

And so I write. I just can't help myself. Like St. Augustine said, "I count myself one of the number of those who write as they learn and learn as they write."

***

I wept today. I cried buckets of tears. My body wracked with emotional pain as I wept over the map spread out at my feet. I wet the map with my tears and cried out to my kind Father to "Shine!" How long did I even pray? I don't know. Time stood still as I prayed from Psalm 67 ... I cried with the words and asked my Father for His work.

May God be gracious to us and bless us and make His face sine on us...

so that Your ways may be known on the earth, Your salvation among the nations!

May the peoples praise You, God!

May all the peoples praise You.

May the nations be glad and sing for joy!

I wept for the lost and for the oppressed. I wept for the nations that have little, if no, witness. I wept for the children, the women, ... the nations. I cried for the peoples of the earth.

I prayed for those hidden, quiet places of hearts and homes where God's Spirit shows up! I prayed for those conversations over tea, the dreams, the book found, those Internet moments... clicking on a Christian link ... I prayed. And, I wept and I interceded.

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And, as Michael Card sings, "I cried just one of His tears".

"So open my eyes and open my heart
Grant me the gift of Your grieving
Awaken in me the compassion to weep
Just one of the tears of the world."

As I cried, on this cloudy, dark,grey day, the sun peeked through and literally shone through the window onto my prostrate body... As I asked Him to "Shine on the nations!", the sun poured forth warmth. Light lit the small prayer room. In that moment, I knew He heard. He saw. I was, indeed, weeping His tears. I was allowed a glimpse into the tender heart of Jesus, the One who ever lives to intercede!

He is the One who was slain! And with His blood He purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation! (Rev. 5:9) These tear were from Him. He, the One who sees! Creator Father's tears. Jesus Intercessor's tears. Holy Spirit's groan-tears.

I knew in that moment. He does see that mother and her child in that hidden place. He does see that girl lost, scared, and confused. He does see and love exceedingly more than I do.

So I wept today. And, I hope it won't be the last time. It was a gift. It was a moment too painful and too sweet for words. ...but, still, I write about it and offer it here for His glory, because it was from Him! The gift of tears and a wet map.

A Lion's Tears

It was the tears on the face of the lion that made my heart stir. The descriptive picture of his face and his tears instantly brought tears to my own eyes. My chest ached a little as I listened to the story. And, in that moment I learned something. Nothing new. I just learned it again. ...maybe in a new way.

We just finished reading The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis together as a family. It has been such a sweet journey for me to listen, with my children, to my husband's rich voice read these classic books out-loud.

It isn't my first time reading the Chronicles of Narnia... and it won't be my last. So rich. So full of lessons of truth and love.

Today, in our reading, the boy "Digory" speaks with Aslan, the lion, about his dying mother. With tears, this young boy, pleads that Aslan would heal his mother and asks that she would be well. This boy weeps as he intercedes for his mother, pleading with the great lion (who in these marvelous books can do pretty much anything!).

As the boy weeps and pleads, his head is bowed before the lion. And, then ...he looks up. As he raises his head, he sees something that surprises him. And, it surprises the reader. Aslan is crying with him. Aslan is grieving with Digory in that moment. Deep grief. The connection between this little "Son of Adam-boy" and Aslan is deep and lasting.

It is those tears that help Digory move forward in his grief later in the book. It is the compassionate face of Aslan that make all things right in Digory's heart... despite the circumstances in which he finds himself.

My heart was stirred. My welling tears were real. And, my chest ached just a bit today as we read.

After feeling the difficulty of my illness last week. After witnessing devastating darkness on the night streets of Bangkok. After walking along side many hurting people last week... hearing many difficult stories and witnessing real, deep, painful tears ...

...I wrote in my journal: "How, Father, do we know Your rest and Your safety in the middle of this sin-stained, woe-ful, dark world? Where are You, Lord? When will You make it better?"

Today, I raise my head and only have to glance at His face. And, I know what I see there. His big, full, heart-wrenching tears join mine. His face says it all. He knows. He sees. He hurts.

...with me.

More than me.

And, this picture of my Father's face... This picture of His Son, my brother Jesus' face.. The image of the grieving Holy Spirit... They help me to know that I am connected to something much bigger, much more real and more eternal.

I am far from, very far from, alone in my grief.

And, my head raises and my soul is comforted by my Lion's tears.

Journey of Tears

For those who have read recently here, I have shared a bit of my "journey of tears" (as I am now fond of calling it). Today, I share with you a bit more.

If you knew me well, or know my history, you would be aware that weeping (or any tears for that matter) does not come easy for me. I have a sweet friend who is fond of telling me, "you need to cry more!... or you need a good cry!". She has been saying this to me for the last 10 years at least! And, she has been right. In the past, my husband has jokingly asked if he should just consistently yell at me or be unkind in order to get the tears flowing. Just to be clear, he hasn't actually tried this suggestion (for which I am grateful ;). But, it makes my point!

Tears have not come easy for me in my adult life. I don't have memory of them coming often as a child, or a pre-teen... I am assured by my father that I did in fact cry as a child. ...and he describes me, in my childhood, as a "sensitive child". For whatever reason, as a growing woman in my home, this was discouraged and diminished. I have few memories of crying in my late teens. It seemed that I received the message that crying was not a good thing somewhere along the line. And, when I entered the church at the tender age of 15, the message of "no tears" was most definitely (and unfortunately) reinforced. Verbally, or more often non-verbally, other Christians were markedly uncomfortable with strong emotion and tears... it was a weakness, maybe lacking faith. I can't really articulate the "message" I received exactly. But, the tears distinctly stopped when I crossed the threshold of the church.

I can note occasions in my life where tears flowed... very marked occasions. And, through the years, there have been some significant healing moments where tears began and blessing flowed as I wept some pent up, or even ripe, emotions. In fact, I would say that the more health and wholeness defines me, the more I have been released and my soul (and eyes!) had cried.

But, all said, I don't (or haven't) cried much... regardless of the pain... in the past 20 years. I have wept very few tears. Until now.

I seem to cry a lot these days. I wept again yesterday and it was deeply spiritual and without a doubt from my Father. Is it possible that instead of speaking in tongues, I have been given the "gift of tears"? I don't know. But, what I do know is that yesterday as I walked the fields near my house, I wept... I cried uncontrollably and those tears were prayer in and of themselves.

It is berry season here and the hedge rows that separate field from field are full and fat with deeply purple berries. They really are a beauty to look at and amazing to eat! So, yesterday, I walked and picked and ate... and prayed. As my hand reached out to pick the 4th or 5th berry, I burst into tears! Taking it to my mouth, I plopped it in and began to cry and cry and cry... The only words I can express or use to describe what filled my heart was a weeping for the nations, for the lost. I wept and ate and picked and prayed... and wept as I walked along. (Luckily this portion of my journey was a lonely one, not a soul around but me and my dog!)

Some of the berries, picked and eaten had "names" attached... those I love in my family that don't know the deep, deep love of Jesus. Some of the berries were picked with a someone in mind and wept over. Some of those berries had no name... they were a nation, a people, a lost and hungry soul in deep need of God's love.

I picked... and ate... and prayed and cried... asking God to harvest His children, to pluck them out of darkness, and to enjoy His kids as I enjoyed these berries. Harvest, I wept! Your harvest, I cried. Bring in Your harvest, Lord Jesus... they belong to you.

It was glorious and freeing... and sweet... and painful... and confusing... and glorious.

So, I walked yesterday another short jaunt on this journey of tears. And, I say to my Father today... I will be used by You however You want! Cry through me. Weep with my tears! I give myself to You completely without holding anything back! Please keep teaching me to pray.

Flood of Tears

Tears finally came today. ...and they rushed out of my soul like a flood. Tears don't come easily to me--- not that I don't feel sad often enough to cry... I do, of course; but, I have never been very good at crying. So, when tears DO come, they flow like a torrent. Today I had a tsunami of tears. From my gut, from deep within, I wept.

I wept with my friend, who must sit up nights and watch her little one in a hospital bed, begging for our Father to heal. I wept with my friend, wondering what she must have felt as she stood before the gun... knowing she was next in line for death. I wept.

As I thought of this friend, dead now and in a white robe before Our Father's throne, I remembered what it says about those martyred for their faith. As I wept, my heart recalled:

"I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God and the testimony they had maintained. They called out in a loud voice, "How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?" Then each of them was given a white robe, and they were told to wait a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and brothers who were to be killed as they had been was completed." (Revelation 6)

And as I wept, I prayed. I prayed, "Avenge her blood, Lord!" "Avenge her!" my soul cried out to God. How do I put in words what my soul prayed this morning. ... The vengeance, or justice, that I was asking for was none other than the salvation of a nation. I was asking God to avenge her blood by doing that which her murderers hated so much... bring Your kingdom to that land, Father!! Pour out Your spirit and bring many to faith. Rip the nation from their hands, from the hands of darkness, and give the people Your light! My gut was calling out for justice and I believe the heart of my Father heard my cry.

Avenger her blood, O kind, just and merciful Father. May Your kingdom come in that land. Would You pour down and rip away that land from the enemy. Tear the people away from a lie and bring Your truth! Do this Father, I pray!!

Wait a little longer... he says. Just a little longer, He tells His people.

And now I walk through this day asking the Lord how I can live rightly. How do I live my life in a worthy manner, a life worthy of the calling for which she died? So that... I might, by His grace, sit up late at night watching a loved one sick in a hospital bed. Or, so that... I may face a gun and trust in Him alone.

The tears came and now, I feel an urgency in my soul to live my life with Him as my all, my only, and my hope.

Face Down

The ark of God is stolen and placed in the temple of Dagon (1 Samuel 5). The next morning the theives came into the temple and found a shocking surprise.

"When the people of Ashdod rose early the next day, there was Dagon, fallen on his face on the ground before the ark of the Lord! They took Dagon and put him back in his place. But the following morning whenthey rose, there was Dagon, fallen on his face on the ground before the ark of the Lord! His head and hands had been broken off and were lying on the threshold; only his body remained."

If I had to pick a favorite story from the Old Testament, this would be in the top 5!

Imagine the scene. They walk in for morning worship time and find their marble god face down before the Ark. (oops... uh, you okay, god??) Then, they take their god and put him back up! And, then, the next morning they come in and find their god on his face again--- but this time with his limbs torn off. (hmm... god, you doing alright there?!)

This was the passage the Lord brought to mind the other morning. And, just to be clear, He wasn't speaking to my heart about another person. He was speaking to me about me... and my god. Ouch.

For weeks now, I have been asking the Father to wean me from this earth. What I meant by the prayer was, ...wean me from sin, Lord. Wean me from temptation and the things of this world that lead me away from You. This was the prayer of my heart. I realized this week that He is answering this prayer... but not, exactly, as I have been asking. He hasn't weaned me from this earth and the temptations. I am still tempted. I am still fleshly. I am still prone to wander. No apparent change there!

What He is weaning me from... or working to wean me from... is my god, my mini-Dagon. It all became clear to me when I was "randomly" reminded of this story. I have a "god" too and I prop it back up, time and time (and time) again. I put it's head on and glue it's legs on. And, it just can't stand in the Presence of God any longer. I come to worship and it must fall face down. It just must surrender.

My god is self. Or, should I call it self-reliance. Self-discipline (that sounds nicer). Self-assurance and self-righteousness. Coping mechanisms and skills I learned young "to survive"... skills that allow me to do most anything I put my mind to, to "be okay" and make it through any situation, to be perfect (or to show forth perfection and avoid weakness)... they all seem to be failing me these days. They are falling face down and loosing limbs!! No, more, Stephanie... my Father seems to be whispering. No more.

As trite and common as it might sound, still, deep within me there is such a pull to earn my way to God. We all have heard it... so, so, so many times. The preacher says, "We can't earn our salvation! It is grace alone." We nod our heads... Yes, Yes! we say with agreement. And, yet...

Somewhere inside I still rely on those acts of discipline, those prayers, those "times with God", that ability to say no to the temptation, that generous service, that self-control, that kind word said about me... as my "okay-ness". I rely on myself. No more, Stephanie.

Sunday I was showered with messages of His love, His unfailing mercy, and His faithfulness. Today I was bombarded with His words of truth... "it is by grace you have been saved, through faith, and it's not from yourself. It is a gift of God" and, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
Weakness. In weakness, Stephanie.

This most certainly isn't the first time Father has dealt hard with this god. Like the Israelites before me, who kept going back to Baal... over and over again, this is a lesson of years. This isn't new. But, my God is faithful to complete what He has started in me 20 years ago. He began that good work and today He is still hammerin' away--- amputating arms, legs and the head of my god.

This idol of self needs to die. She needs to fall face down before the Presence of God. May I not prop her up again. May I truly learn to rely on Him alone--- His strength, His grace, His mercy, His goodness and His faithfulness alone. Oh Father, continue to wean me from this earth.

Extra Emotion

We laugh in our house sometimes because our daughter walks around with "extra emotion" and our son has two emotions... hunger and thirst. Today my daughter was not alone in her extra emotions. Me, too, sweet girl!

It was my son's birthday today. I realized today that I no longer have a baby and with this thought I felt just a bit sad to start my day. Now mind you, he is eight years old, so maybe my realization is a little slow... but, today it just hit me harder than I expected--- I don't have a baby anymore and I will likely not again have a baby. I just really loved my babies...

Before my eyes they just seem to grow so fast. I want them to grow, of course,... what mom wouldn't!... but, I also want them to stay close, snuggled on my my lap, looking up at me with those eyes that say, "I want to marry Mommy someday". (He did say that one time when he was three or four years old!).

So, what is it that makes me feel that tinge of sadness exactly? Is it worry as I wonder after the changes time will make on my son and our relationship? It should change, of course... Oh! I feel the tug of those "apron strings" already! Is it fear? Is it even sad? Can I name it at all? I don't know that "sad" really defines it well. What is this extra emotion? It just feels like my heart is full... and being stretched, maybe. It is like my insides are being tugged on a bit and the tugging brings tears just right to the brim of my eyes as I watch him grow and change.

I am enjoying a new book this week, Instructing a Child's Heart, by Tedd Tripp. I have only read the first two chapters, but tonight while reading... I had just a lot of extra emotion! While reading just one chapter, I felt first "encouraged" because I had "done that right" and next I felt deflated because "well, I missed that one!" Too funny... the shifting shadows of mood and emotion.

So, when I find myself in this place of "extra emotion", I am blessed by God's word. My place of refuge and peace is the Word of God.

"My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken" (Psalm 62)
I was blessed tonight as He reminded me again of His rock-like quality, His faithfulness, His fortress-like immovability. These stationary qualities of my Father are a great encouragement to my soul. My Father is unchanging and immovable. There is no darkness in Him at all. ...no shifting shadows. He is a rock. He is our fortress. He is a strong tower to be run into... Ah! The beauty of these Truths when my emotions are in flux... even just mildly.

So, tonight, my Rock God...I hand to you my extra emotion--- whatever it may be named. And, I rest on You. I rest in You tonight.

Another Mary

I just had the privilege to pray with a dear woman. She is processing a very difficult circumstance and grieving deeply. Toward the end of our prayer, she began to cry out to Jesus, "You didn't protect me! You didn't show up! Where were you?".

In my mind's eye, I felt I was back a few thousand years ago watching sweet Mary falling to the ground, dirt stained dress. I could just see her grasping the Lord's feet, weeping and crying out, "If you had come, he wouldn't have died!" (John 11) And, then I could see Him troubled. His face contorted with compassion, sorrow and grief. I could see Him weeping as she wept.

Mary needed to say it to Jesus. She had to be honest with Him and she was not punished for it. In fact, she saw His Glory on the heels of that real grief and honesty! She needed to see Him deeply troubled by her circumstances and she needed Him to enter into her grief with her. Mary needed this 2000 years ago.

And so did this other Mary today.

This sweet woman who sat with me this afternoon had to say it to Jesus. She needed to ask Him "why?" and cry at his feet, in accusation, like Mary... you didn't come, Lord!! Why!!??!!

Oh, the beauty of genuine, heart-deep interactions with our Lord! Can we trust Him enough? Can we believe that He will enter in to our grief and not punish us for honesty? Can we know His shoulders are big enough to handle the questions and to take our accusations?

Thank you, my sweet brother, Jesus for being a man well acquainted with grief and sorrow. Thank you for being able to take our ranting and raving! Thank you for showing forth Your glory and allowing the fire of pain to strengthen us. Thank you that suffering produces growth, perseverance and character! Suffering produces glory.

But we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. (Romans 5)