Last week, I wrote a bold and unapologetic post to the man or woman who wants their perfectly restored marriage handed to them. And for the record, I stand by what I said, and I’m (still) not the least bit sorry about it.
But today, oh weary one, these words of compassion are for you.
You are not entitled like the person described last week, you are shattered. You’re not waiting on perfection, you’re waking up every morning, staring at the same spot on the wall, and begging God for a miracle. (You can’t hold on much longer if it doesn’t happen soon.)
For those of you whose heart is breaking today, I know if there was a base you could run to where you’d finally be safe, where you could escape for just a moment to catch your breath from the waves of heartache that keep you up all night, you’d run there no matter the distance.
For those – still waiting – on a spouse to get their act together, I know from experience if you could tie them to a chair and spoon feed them the-right-thing-to-do, you would. (but unfortunately, it isn’t logistical, or legal for that matter.)
But God told me to tell you something, heartbroken one: Your pain is seen, heard, and understood by a God who knows what He’s doing.
And you do not cry alone, today.
There’s a story told in the Gospel of John in which Mary and Martha lose something precious to them – their brother, Lazarus.
In their desperation they sent word to Jesus that Lazarus was sick and pleaded with Him to come. Yet upon hearing the news, Jesus did something surprising …absolutely Nothing!
John 11:5-6 says, “Although Jesus loved Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, he stayed where he was…”
Pause. Have you ever sent word for Jesus, begging him to come and do what only He can do, and upon hearing your prayer, felt that He did, well… nothing? (*Raising my hand.)
Mary felt the same way.
Overwhelmed with emotion we watch as Mary falls at Jesus’ feet, saying these familiar words, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died…”
And I believe she’s not the only breaking heart crying that prayer, today.
…Lord, if you had only been here my marriage wouldn’t have crumbled…my health wouldn’t have deteriorated…my life wouldn’t have imploded…
Lord, if you had only been here, maybe then, I wouldn’t have lost everything most precious to me…
God wants you to know that just because He stays where He is when we feel we need him the most, doesn’t mean He doesn’t love us. And just because He hasn’t shown up the way we envisioned, doesn’t mean He hasn’t heard our every prayer and have our deliverance planned.
Not only that, God wants you to know, He’s crying with you, today…
John 11:33,35 says , “When Jesus saw her weeping and saw the other people wailing with her, a deep anger welled within him, and he was deeply troubled …then Jesus wept.”
Don’t miss this, broken-hearted one: before the miracle, Jesus mourned. And that same God cries with you too, today, over everything you have lost.
Deep anger wells within him…when He sees the broken promises you’ve endured, and the scars you bear from your heart being trampled, mercilessly.
He’s deeply troubled… watching as your most sought-after plans have derailed, obliterating every dream you had for the future and any trust you had in people, moving forward.
In Exodus 2:23-25 these beautiful words are as true for you today, as it was for the Israelites 3,000 years ago, it says, “Their cries for relief… ascended to God: God listened. God saw. God understood.”
God sees you, falling at His feet like Mary, defeated and writhing at the thought of all that is lost. He hears you, wailing and questioning where He was when your heart broke, and whether His plan for your life can be trusted moving forward.
And God understands how bad it hurts and how close you are to letting go.
Dear broken heart, there may be times when it feels God lets our most frantic and desperate calls go straight to voicemail, times when He allows us to take a few wobbly steps on our own, only for us to fall on our face before sweeping us up in His Sovereignty.
But though He might not come immediately, the God you are praying to, will arrive eventually. And when He does, the same power who breathed life back into Lazarus’ lunges will do the same in our spirits, in our marriages, and in the dreams we’ve given up believing could ever again be within our grasp.
But until then, God wanted me to remind you that you do not cry alone, today.
You are weeping with Jesus.
// 52 weeks to write, 31 more to go. //