Beautiful days turned suddenly sodden are happening everywhere. Tragic moments appear in the midst of the most calm. No one is immune, no one is singled out, and no one knows why in the middle of perfect joy can come the bleakest moment that rips a hole in your heart.
You struggle for words of comfort, wise words of hope, even when you cannot come to grips with the insanity of the situation, the disappointment, the seeming unfairness. How do you overcome the untenable, the hopelessness of not being in control, the gut-wrenching pain of ineffectiveness?
Books by the dozens offer consolement, but who can adequately put themselves in a position they know not the depths of? So at best we falter with empty words, trying at best to put an encouraging thought on a hurtful situation. More often than not, we fail.
To be compassionate and to commiserate, you must know the alarm of fear and time-warp of senses when the proverbial rug is jerked out from under you. You must recognize the stages of hope and grief, and the patience required of both. Because the pit left when the rug leaves is...massive, devastating, real, leaving you prostrate and defeated. And there are days when you feel you are in this pit alone, no matter the "noise" surrounding you.
You struggle for words of comfort, wise words of hope, even when you cannot come to grips with the insanity of the situation, the disappointment, the seeming unfairness. How do you overcome the untenable, the hopelessness of not being in control, the gut-wrenching pain of ineffectiveness?
Books by the dozens offer consolement, but who can adequately put themselves in a position they know not the depths of? So at best we falter with empty words, trying at best to put an encouraging thought on a hurtful situation. More often than not, we fail.
To be compassionate and to commiserate, you must know the alarm of fear and time-warp of senses when the proverbial rug is jerked out from under you. You must recognize the stages of hope and grief, and the patience required of both. Because the pit left when the rug leaves is...massive, devastating, real, leaving you prostrate and defeated. And there are days when you feel you are in this pit alone, no matter the "noise" surrounding you.
Cliché phrases will not suffice, even when one knows the truth of them. I defer to an article more adequately and eloquently spoken: We Do Not Lose Heart.
Especially on my heart today are the children fighting hideous diseases and injuries through no fault of their own, their mothers and fathers who are anguishing over their pain and feeling helpless to overcome, and all the caregivers who must watch and work professionally even while their hearts must be breaking every moment.
To friends and friend of friends facing the ravages of disease and the futility of the pit that comes with it, you are filling my heart and it overflows with prayers to the Father. When words fail, the Spirit rescues:
To friends and friend of friends facing the ravages of disease and the futility of the pit that comes with it, you are filling my heart and it overflows with prayers to the Father. When words fail, the Spirit rescues:
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. (Romans 8:26)
