Stop the Hurt ... and Rest

An analgesic was all I wanted to numb the pain. No. Not tylenol or ibuprofen. Instead, anything that would prevent me from thinking, or feeling all the hurt that frustrated my soul for months. So I turned to the one thing that I knew would take my mind off life in general, and more specifically our present state of being. Television.

It's called amusement. More accurately defined as the detainment of the mind.

I didn't want to think about the burden my husband carried as trustee of his father's estate, navigating strained relationships with his brother's children, our personal financial challenges, his health ... I was tired. I wanted off the island. But I couldn't escape the reality that our family was in desperate places, the enemy of our souls was focused on his success in ripping us apart -- divide and conquer -- and leaving us wounded, bleeding, and confused.

AMU'SEMENT, noun s as z. That which amuses, detains or engages the mind; entertainment of the mind; pastime; a pleasurable occupation of the senses, or that which furnishes it, as dancing, sports or music. (Webster's 1828 Dictionary, online)

The last thing any of us needs in a time of crisis is to sit and numb our pain. Whether it's television binging, alcohol, drugs, or spending without restraint the pain will be waiting, growing with interest, and ready to drown us in its deluge when we least expect it.

Teacher and pastor Jentezen Franklin shares in his devotional, Restart Your Heart, that to avoid facing those things that hurt us, pushing them down and refusing to acknowledge their hold on our hearts and effectively refusing to deal with them by handing them over to our Father in heaven, we keep our hands clenched and unable to receive the healing and blessing God has for us. God has every intention of keeping His promises. We often are unable to see the fulfillment due to the walls built by our need to self-protect and block any further injury to our lives. While God is unable to lie, always keeps His promises, ALWAYS heals, provides, and protects ... He is also unwilling to supersede our own will. He is patient and kind. He loves always and is not pushy or demanding. He will not force us to comply. That would be bullying.

One night, while still avoiding the pain but unable to escape it, my son began to share Scripture with me. I grew irritated and made excuses to leave the conversation. As I lay in bed that night, I considered the state of my heart. I was choosing to shut out the world around me for messages on a screen that went against everything I knew to be true. The amount of time wasted sitting with my attention on the screen could've been spent productively -- cleaning, preparing for a new housemate ... and I would complain about nothing getting accomplished around the house while I escaped.

I had a choice to make. And so do you.

Stoney Creek Park, BayPointe Beach

We can keep our fists clenched, holding to the hurt and bitterness life throws at us, or we can choose to drop it and grab hold of the hand reaching out to us. Jesus tells us, "Come to Me, ALL who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11: 28 NKJV). 

Peter later reminds us to "humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting your care upon Him, for He cares for you" (1 Peter 5: 6-7 NKJV). 

Long ago, I learned that to engage with the LORD is to find an appointed place where you can meet with Him. Like the Prophet Elijah found, God's voice is not likely in the loud, booming elements heard; but rather in the still small voice heard when we quiet our hearts and listen, wait. He is always speaking. I, personally, am not always listening. 

The prophet Isaiah says, "But those who wait on the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint" (Isaiah 40: 31 NKJV).

Lost Valley Bible Camp, Gaylord, MI

I had forgotten during one of life's storms. The winds were threatening to tear everything apart my family had worked so hard to build, and I was found to be striving against the wind and waves. Exhausted. Depleted. Defeated. I turned to my Father and whispered, "I can't." Then I held out my hands, filled with the brokenness of my making, and asked, "Please, would you fix this?"

The beautiful truth is, the ask is all He waits for. Like the father to the prodigal, He comes running, takes the sorrow upon Himself, and pulls us into His embrace, promising to never quit loving us.

If I am struggling to settle my mind enough to connect with God, I often will go to a place where contemplation (for me) becomes almost second nature. My favorite? Any body of water. Thankfully, I live in Michigan, surrounded by water on every side, and am 10 minutes from Lake St Clair. I can't tell you how often I would choose to lose myself in the beauty and quiet that I find when sitting beside a body of water.  It's God's creation. 

Here's a few photos of my favorite places.

Marine City, MI

Lost Valley Bible Camp, Gaylord, MI

Outer Banks, Avon, NC

God shows His glory in all of our moments. We must choose to see.

Let's choose to wait. Allow Him to provide the rest we so desperately need.

Beyond the Looking Glass

Several years ago, I posted a picture of a corner of my home set against a beautiful night sky. A friend commented on my lovely view, to which I responded, "You only see what I allow to be seen." What never made it to the photo was a house falling apart, inside and out. And the people who lived there weren't faring much better. Spiritually, physically, emotionally ... we were a mess, and couldn't see even a flicker of light in our proverbial tunnel. As I considered my comment to this friend, I thought about how we tend to hide behind smiles and positive affirmations to keep others from seeing what is truly behind our masks. For some, it's an effort to keep others from pitying them. Others believe that, as Christians, we need to put on brave faces and refuse to let people know how difficult things are or face the judgment that we are weak, lack faith, or perhaps have fallen away from God. This simply isn't true. Scripture instructs us to bear one another's burdens (Galatians 6:2). I believe this is talking about praying for each other, and if we have the ability, lending a helping hand.

The following story shows just one angle of how the Lord would call us to be.

Beyond the Looking Glass

Wasn’t it bad enough that we were having the worst family vacation ever? Did she have to show up?

Eloise couldn’t believe her luck. She’d chosen Paradise for the trip because it was supposed to be remote, cool, beautiful, and close to Lake Superior, the next best thing to an ocean-side resort than the coast, and risk of shark attacks. It was also far from people like her.

Apparently, not far enough. Back home, near Detroit, she’d been forced to tolerate undesirables. Because Eloise’s husband, Edward, was pastor of their prestigious church, these people invaded every space possible in Eloise’s life: church, Bible study, life group, the children’s soccer games, school functions, the soup kitchen … the list could go on forever and eternity would never dim the stench they left trailing them.

And now, this woman.

Eloise could almost see the cloud of vapor that swirled about her person. Maybe that’s why her skin seemed slightly tinged with green and her smiles produced yellow with black speckled teeth. It was doubtful she’d ever been shown a comb, let alone taught how to use one. It was impossible to know whether she was a dirty blond, or if her blond was just that … filthy.

Even the shores of Whitefish Bay—supposedly one of the most amazing places to visit in Northern Michigan—couldn’t insulate Eloise and her family from those less … er … fortunate, apparently. They might be ensconced in family feuding and sibling wars, but at least they were out of sight and out of danger of soiling the pristine Christian image she and her family had worked tirelessly to paint in Detroit.

Eloise chewed on her lip. She had to get the family to quit quarreling long enough to escape into their Suburban before the woman saw them and came to ask for money. The children scowled at each other after threats over who’d pay the most for taking the best seats in their SUV. Eloise’s husband, apparently oblivious to any impending doom rocked on his heels at the shore’s edge, hands jammed in his pockets. “Edward.” Eloise finally caught his attention and she nodded in the direction of their abhorrent invasion. “We really must go. Now.”

He looked in the direction of Eloise’s sideways glance and grinned. His eyes sparkled with that look that always spoke of trouble for Eloise. She knew what would happen next might seal the family’s fate for the rest of eternity. “Don’t even think about it, Edward.”

“What? She must be lost.” He turned from Eloise and walked further from the safety of their vehicle. “Hello, there.”

The woman’s lips curled into what appeared to be a smile, though it was a wobbly one. If the whitening streaks forming on her face were any indication, her smile was melting into a full-on cry.

Edward cast a glance over his shoulder. “Eloise, you can go ahead and take the kids back to the hotel, if you’d like. But I think this woman needs a friend.”

Eloise knew her husband well enough to know he wasn’t releasing her to escape, but imploring her to see beyond the looking glass and catch a glimpse of the heart. She looked over to where her children waited, impatiently. There wasn’t enough room.

Was there?

“No,” The woman spoke, her voice a squeak behind her tears. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say how beautiful your family is.”

Of course, their family was beautiful. Eloise had worked long and hard to keep it that way. It wouldn’t be prudent to soil that image now. She turned a stone throwing a glare at her husband. “Don’t you think we should go? The children are hungry.”

“Yes, of course.” He reached out a hand towards the woman. “I’m Edward. Do you live up here?”

Eloise should’ve known better. Even in the remotest parts of the world, Edward would find a way to extend his clean hand to someone. Even an ugly, foul-smelling tourist.

“Naw. I don’t live nowhere.”

And that was all it took. Edward had the woman sandwiched between our older two children, refusing to take no for an answer on his invitation to lunch. His piercing gaze silenced any cries of annoyance over their discomfort. He climbed into the driver’s seat and gripped Eloise’s hand, a silent challenge to check her heart’s thermostat. She would either comply or be left seething over her husband’s lack of tourism etiquette in exchange for his pastoral heart. 

"For I was hungry and you gave Me food;

I was thirsty and you gave Me drink ...

in as much as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren,

you did it to Me." 

~ Matthew 25: 37, 40 ~