Wrestling

Anxiety is a monster
It eats away at me
there's tension building inside
Hidden so you can't see

I sit and try to unwind
My muscles grow sore
I've felt it before
It goes straight to the core

My head starts to pound
I start at each sound
My heart keeps pace
its starting to race

I can't get away
What can I say
I wish I could rest
but I want to give you my best

How to let go?
Does somebody know?
I open my hands
I offer my heart
Lord take me apart

Apart--this anxiety wears me out
I'm coming to pieces
from the fear and the doubt

Apart--"Come apart and rest,"
"I've given you My Best."
"Come you who are weary
Whose load is heavy
Whose way is dreary"

I am starting to see
Its not at all about me
I turn and I bend
I cry out to My Friend!

Lord, I can't
And You don't tell me I can
Instead You whisper, "Lean on Me, my child,
I'll carry you til the end."

(probably not my best work--but in the spirit of transparency--both of my imperfect writing and my struggle with anxiety, here it is)

Seen

I have been reading the story of the woman with the issue of blood recently and some new and wonderful thoughts struck me. 

It is the story of a woman whose medical condition left her ostracized, alone, penniless, and unseen. She was considered unclean according to Jewish law and so would have been unlikely to have much human contact and certainly no one would touch her lest they too become unclean. She had spent all her available funds seeking medical attention that had failed her. She was completely without hope. 

And then one day Jesus comes to town. She comes up behind Him in the midst of a large crowd and touches His garment believing that touch alone can heal her. Jesus immediately knows that "power has gone out from Him" and asks "who touched me?"

And then the word of God shows us a precious thing. It says next, "And when the woman saw that she was not hidden." That she was not hidden. The Matthew account says "Jesus turned and seeing her." 

I am so overwhelmed and so thankful that we are not hidden from Him. He sees us as we really are and love us just the same. He sees our heartache, He sees our pain. Sometimes He touches and heals. Sometimes He weeps with us. But either way He is always the God who sees.

The Answer

Shock and horror

Is this real?

My breath is gone

my lips go numb

My heart is pounding

I wish I could cry

I am crying inside

Why did you die?

My mind seems blank

I reach for the phone

I wonder who to call

I feel all alone

Who will hear me?

Who can relate?

This world's gone crazy

So filled with hate

I cry out to Jesus

Who alone can hear

the cry filled with pain,

anger and fear

He rules and reigns

And justice will be served

No tear shed in vain

No prayer goes unheard

He alone can comfort

He alone can save

My Lord conquered death

And rose up from the grave.

Knowing

Knowing

I want to know

I have to see

How does it work?

this human body

How are we made?

Why do we break?

Can you tell me

help me see 

I know its no mistake

I love to know

It's a joy to me

The wonder of how

The Life-giver breathed His life in me

I love to study

To gain new sight

to see the glimpse

of His glory bright

Lord,use this hunger

To help me grow

Let me seek first Lord

You to know

May my love of study drive me deep

Into Your arms, one of Your sheep

Let me know You and be known

May You be exalted to the highest throne!

Giving up

I once heard someone comment that they never went out in public in sweatpants because they "really hadn't given up on [themselves] yet." And for a while I really tried. I gave up wearing my sweats in public out of fear of what others thought of me. 

But you know what? I like wearing my sweatpants. They are comfortable. They always fit. And when you live in Upstate NY where it is winter 6 months out of the year; they are warm. And frankly fashion-sense has not been one of my strongest points in life. 

So I decided, I am giving up. I am giving up caring what people think of me if I wear my sweat pants in public. I would rather be comfortable than cool. 

I wish it were so easy in other areas. John 12:43 says, "for they loved the approval of men rather than the approval of God." And later on in Colossians we are reminded to serve not by way of "eye-service, as people-pleasers, but with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord." 

Lord help me to be careful to serve You first, to care most what is on Your heart, and help me to be careless of what people think  of me when I am obedient to You. 

Good

I don't have all my thoughts together on this but I have been thinking about Romans 8:28, "For we know that all things work together for our good to them that are the called according to His purpose." Sometimes this is hard to take in--what I see allowed in to my life or the lives of others does not always seem good. But then last night during our prayer time at Bible Study I was praying for someone who is awaiting lung transplant. I have always struggled to know how to pray for that-- and I have prayed about people awaiting lung transplant frequently in my line of work. The difficulty is that in order for one to live another must die and how do you weigh the value of a life? And so as I prayed last night I thanked our Great God that He knows what good is. Because the truth is, we don't. Without heaven's perspective we cannot even begin to grasp what is good for us. But "those whom He foreknew [of whom He was [k]aware and [l]loved beforehand], He also destined from the beginning [foreordaining them] to be molded into the image of His Son [and share inwardly His likeness], that He might become the firstborn among many brethren." This is what is good for us--that we be made like Him. And so I pray that I would receive with open hands, and a willing and thankful heart,whatever He has for me each day, trusting the One who knows what is good for me. 

"I've got this"

This past weekend was a difficult one for me and I went into Sunday morning as I often do, but perhaps even more so. I had my guard up and my heart hidden behind whatever steel I could muster. I made minimal eye contact, and tried not to enter into any real conversations. I answered question lightly, and tightly. The facts stretched thin across my face to mask the pain that their truth threatened to surface. 

I took my place in the scattered congregation. I settled in close to my brother and tried not to think about the empty row beside me and all that it represented. I sang the hymns, and at times the shell threatened to crack--worshiping the Lord who knows my heart and loves me anyways often brings me to my knees. But I grasped at the shards of my cracking mask and re-adjusted its place and held it fast.

And then the meeting neared an end and I thought that I had made it without letting down my guard. Then I see the bread begin to pass--and as I look, I realize that it is going to end up way on the opposite end of the pew. The end of the pew where my dad usually sits. My dad, who always looks out for me and takes care of the little details that I forget--like downloading tax programs, and getting snow tires, and passing the bread. My dad and mom aren't here and I am trying so hard to hold it all together but I can't. The seats that are empty and the row that is nearly empty as well scream of the loneliness, the ache, the sorrow.

I am looking around and wondering what to do--do I get up and go get the bread from the other end of the row? Should my brother get up instead? Maybe someone will notice that I am in need of a little help here...

And then my friend in the row behind me catches my eye and motions "I got this." A weight lifts off of me--I don't have to take care of this. And then as the bread comes and I take it and pass it, I burst into tears and I weep with the relief that my Father says to me "I got this." All the walls come tumbling down and I cry with gratitude that in the midst of my loneliness, my heartache, and my need the Lord Jesus says to me,  "I got this."