Sitting here at five in the morning, staring at the computer keys and praying for the words to write, the rain feels torrential… even though there’s not a single drop falling outside. It’s all in here with me, the barrage playing on my soul, seeking to discourage and dissuade.
It’s not the first time sorrows have come, not single spies but in battalions. I’m sure, in the deepest parts of my soul, that it won’t be the last. Yet, when the rain is pouring this heavily, it is so hard to see past it. As much as my heart tries, the flood of one small calamity after the next is just too thick to see around.
As I’ve sought help from the Lord, I’ve tried to cast my troubles upon Him. But what I’ve found is that doing that is often harder than can be imagined. Whether it’s pride or some strange sense of security in the knowledge of my own impotence against the world, I hang on to my troubles. I cast them out and reel them back again, over and over.
And so tonight I pray, waiting for the rain to pass.
Thank you for this life, with all its imperfections and all its despair. Thank you for your intimate understanding of what it means to be human, what it means to live in a world this dark with so little light left. Thank you for the blessings you have hidden in the darkness, precious slivers of encouragement waiting for me to find them if I but only look. Thank you for the willingness to bear my sorrows and my sins, as innumerable as they are. Thank you for loving me this much.
Lord, I know I have not always striven to please you. I know that there is sin still within me, known and unknown. I know that I can cast my cares upon You, and I know my weakness in doing so. I know my troubles may not compare to another’s, and I know that there is no true way to compare anyway. Troubles are only troubles because of their intimacy. I know these things. Yet in my weakness, I cling to them.
Lord, I come to you, alone and in need. I ask that you please take these sorrows and turn my head so that I may see the gift in them, that I may see Your Light. Take my hand and guide me through the darkness. Hold me tightly; don’t let go. Help me cling to You and to release the worldly hold that hard times have on my soul.
Lord, I’ve tried to build my house on Rock, but it feels as if the rain is weathering the house and its foundation. Lift me above the clouds that I might see the rainbow of your promise. You promised never to flood the Earth again, and so I know that this rainstorm is not the end. And though it last for forty days and forty nights, give me the peace to hold on to that promise. Give me strength through You to withstand the storm.
I turn my head towards You, Lord. I know that You can sustain me. Help me not to take these sorrows back. I am sending out my second dove, Lord. The raven found nothing, nor did the first dove. The time was not right. Send down Your love, Lord, and renew hope in your weary servant.
These things I ask in the precious name of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
“And the dove came in to him in the evening; and, lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt off: so Noah knew that the waters were abated from off the earth.” Genesis 8: 11
Shared on Year Round Homeschooling Hearts for Home Blog Hop September 28, 2016: http://www.yearroundhomeschooling.com/hearts-home-blog-hop-september-28th/