Some tender places of my heart have been hit recently. Always fun when that happens. I’ve cried a lot, many of those tears long overdue from powering through for so long. And then, due to some compounding experiences, the floodgates flew open. It was good, not to mention needed. Yet the places of pain that were touched sparked narratives of shame and fear and frustration and longing. An undesirable combination, to be sure, and one that I assume any human being strives to avoid experiencing at all costs, especially all at once. So here I was, trying to navigate my swirling thoughts and emotions, looking for the quickest way out because deep down I felt I shouldn’t be feeling this way.
Oh that “s” word. It’ll get you every time.
I think it’s a natural human reaction to want to move through difficult emotions as quickly as possible (I know, a brilliant thought). At least, that’s how it is for me. But what I’ve come to discover over the last few years, is that my efforts to “heal” or “fix” thyself fall terribly short. At best, they provide fleeting moments of relief. And at worst, I feel even more terrible than before when all my efforts fail. Coming to Jesus is the only option (easier said than done for yours truly). And what I’ve also come to discover, is that sometimes Jesus like to take his time with these tender, broken, hurting parts of ourselves we bring to him.
Oh goody. Just what I wanted, to sit in my pain and heartache even longer.
But I’d like to suggest that perhaps that’s what we need. To wait and linger. I know, I know, that sounds sadistic, but if Jesus is meeting us there in the midst of it all, isn’t that the best place to be? I think the enemy uses the false narratives of the shame and fear we experience to drive us from these moments of connection with our Comforter and Healer. He tempts us with “quick fixes” and “do-it-yourself solutions” so you feel “empowered” and “competent” and “mature” or what have you. Its distrust disguised as responsibility. And this distrust fuels striving and self-sufficiency that lead us away from the heart of the Father, not towards it. This is a trap I have fallen into time and time again. Because it feels like the “right” thing to do - what I should be doing. There it is, that dang “s” word again…
What Jesus is beginning to show me is a different perspective. That instead of viewing these moments of pain as messages of shame or condemnation cueing the self-help strategies, I see them as opportunities for divine encounter. That perhaps, in these moments of brokenness, my prayers to experience the heart of the Father in deeper ways are being answered as He fathers me in my heartache. That it’s here in these lonely, hurting places where I really get to know His heart and His nature. Because He’s the only one who can heal. But He can only heal what we bring to Him, what we invite Him into. What we lay at His feet as we gaze into His heart. Opening ourselves up to receive all He so lovingly lavishes upon us.
So my friends, come to Him with your pain and brokenness, and linger. Let Him hold you and love you and speak truth to your weary soul. Release the urge to try harder or to prove yourself, and rest. He is near the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.