|My momma praying with my baby|
You know those times when it just seems so hard to pray? When you find every excuse, and every little thing to occupy your mind so you don't go there? Or when you just don't do it because you're too tired, too emotionally drained, too scared that you may come unglued if you go there? Yeah. Me too. Over the last year-and-a-half there have been so many times that I knew I needed to get to my knees. I knew God was calling me deeper into Himself. I knew I needed to be in His presence. But I just didn't go. I didn't cry out. I didn't make the time, or if I had the time I didn't take it. I slept. I shopped. I ate. I watched TV.
When life is chaos or it just plain hurts, it takes everything inside me to hold it together. I know in my mind that God's the only One who can fix it. I know in my heart that I need Him more desperately than anything else in all the world. But I'm afraid if I go there, if I pour out my heart, I may not get up. I might just finally break. That's one of the lies I've had to break free from, that I'm on the edge of breaking, that just one more thing will do me in. In my mind's eye, I remember this scene from a movie, I don't even know which one, where the mother is having a total mental breakdown on the front lawn. The father is trying to get her up off the ground and the grandmother is ushering the children inside. The lie is that was going to be me. Just one. more. thing.
I went up for prayer at one of our women's events last year sometime, and the pastor's wife who prayed with me looked at me and said, "That's a lie. You will not break. God's got you." It was like a breath of fresh air and a reminder that I needed to get out of my head and onto my knees. He always tells me the truth.
Some days it's been all I can do to just lay on the ground and cry. "But the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans." (Romans 8:26)
It's so easy to come up with some sort of idea of what prayer or spending time with God should look like. We see others, or at least what they portray, and think that's what it looks like. We hear stories of people who read their Bible for hours or who pray every morning at 2 and think that's what it looks like. But it's so much more than any of that. A long time ago, I promised myself that I wouldn't compare my relationship with my husband to anybody else's marriage. It helps me focus on him and how he loves me, and I'm better able to appreciate what I have. I think the same must be true of our individual relationships with the Lord. My quiet time will not look like anyone else's. It can't. God speaks to each of us in so many different ways. He knows exactly how to love me based on my needs and my personality. And He knows that some days all I can do is cry. And He lets me. Because that's how He is.
When I need that arms-wrapped-around-me feeling it usually takes me a couple days (ok, sometimes weeks) to finally give in and get with my Jesus. But then I wait, I pray, I cry, I seek. And He knows just how to show me what I need. It's not always a physical tangible feeling. And it may not be, actually usually is not, what I expect. Sometimes it's peace. Sometimes it's calm. Sometimes it's rest. Sometimes it's a hug from a wonderful little boy who prayed for me yesterday, "Dear Lord, help my Mommy to be a good mommy, and take care of us."After they both had anointed me with oil as my mom and I had done to them. "Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him." (Psalm 127:3)
At all times, He knows exactly what I need and how I need it. I have to constantly remember to run to Him instead of from Him. Even when it hurts. Even when it's hard. Even when I don't want to.
Come out from despair
Grab on to Life
The blood Jesus shed
Is your freedom and mine