Some of us have ancient pain, scarred over and hidden from sight, requiring the scalpel of the Holy Spirit to unearth the wounds and release us from their power. Other precious ones hold fresher wounds, some still crimson with heart ache. For both, the shortest verse in the Bible offers a soothing ointment.
Even though he knew he was preparing to remedy the situation and raise Lazarus from the dead, Jesus was deeply moved by Mary’s anguish.
He cares how much we hurt.
He never chides us to get over it.
He never says it’s been long enough now, time to move on.
He never holds up another’s pain to shame us into silence.
He weeps.
He knows and cares when we writhe in agony, when the weight of this broken world is too much to bear.
And we are encouraged to weep with those who weep.
I have a friend who stopped attending our ladies Bible study to avoid the constant discussions about children and grandchildren. And another who refuses to go out on Mother’s Day, especially not to church, where she’s supposed to smile while others receive flowers that stab her lack.
Whether through singleness, infertility, abortion, miscarriage, stillbirth, or a death way too soon, there are women all around whose hearts wept on Mother’s Day.
Though our paths may differ, from one wounded traveler to another, I offer my hand and my heart.
Is anyone crying for help? GOD is listening, ready to rescue you. If your heart is broken, you’ll find GOD right there; if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.
Heart-shattered lives ready for love don’t for a moment escape God’s notice.
You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights, each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.
God’s a safe-house for the battered, a sanctuary during bad times. The moment you arrive, you relax; you’re never sorry you knocked.
I waited and waited and waited for God. At last he looked; finally he listened. He lifted me out of the ditch, pulled me from deep mud. He stood me up on a solid rock to make sure I wouldn’t slip.
He taught me how to sing the latest God-song, a praise-song to our God.
Oh! May the God of green hope fill you up with joy, fill you up with peace, so that your believing lives, filled with the life-giving energy of the Holy Spirit, will brim over with hope!
Glimpse of Peace 
I’m so glad my words conveyed the love and caring I intended, Dani — Please consider them flowers for your spirit.
LikeLike
This is beautiful, Jane.
Really. Beautiful.
Especially this:
“He never says it’s been long enough now, time to move on.
He never holds up another’s pain to shame us into silence.
He weeps.”
Thank you for treating this subject, this “otherness”, with such love and grace.
LikeLike