Friday, August 24, 2012

prayer in troubled times.

so much on my heart, on my mind.

I always try to wrestle through it, pray through it, and find some semblance of sense, of completion, of a solution before I pour it out here.

and as of yet, I have not come to any of those blessed places.

my heart is heavy.

I miss my sister.

I feel judged, my husband, my sweetheart, my best friend who struggles hard in this role on his bad days - he is judged, has been accused, carries an ugly, heavy, cross.

A cross that is not his to bear.

my heart aches for a waiting child who had not yet been formed in his or her mother's womb, somewhere out there, a child who God has called my sweet Man and I to bring home. I find peace in knowing this child has not been conceived, that this child knows no pain, no loss, no sorrow, no abandonment. Yet.

My heart still aches, nonetheless.
and my hearts burns and aches and is burdened so deeply for the leagues of children,

beautiful, precious children who were created, born, and left.

and we have so much.
and all they are waiting for is loving arms, food, love, a momma and a daddy.
but there is so much pride, so much selfishness here. it's too expensive. I couldn't handle a special-needs child. I don't want a child with special needs. No, God, NO.

and so I pray. and cry. and wait.

I have a dancing baby boy in my belly. A precious boy who already has a cradle in our room, close to our bed, close to our hearts, and a cupboard full of tiny clothes that his 3 brothers wore on their precious newborn bodies. A boy who already has a name - Otto Ezekiel. I am so in love, and yet so intimidated - again - as I prepare for the labor, the birth, the life of another little one joining us.

God, thank you. Walk with us, as we do our best and fail every day at walking with You. Thank you for Your grace, Your forgiveness, Your light, and love.

God is doing a work in our home. whether to homeschool this fall again - or not.

God is doing a work in my Man's heart and spirit. This work was started before my spirit was ever known to Joel - and it is a thing of beauty to behold, as Jesus strips away the scales, the pain, the deceit and hurt this Man has experienced - and to be witness to the beauty beneath, the glory of God's grace and revealing the joys and blessings he has been given by his mother giving birth to him, his father - his hero on earth - raising him and loving him, and showing him what a man and father and sacrifice look like.

God is so good. Life is hard, life is painful, but God is good.

Seeing my husband, my partner, my best friend have the gloriousness of love wash him, cleanse him, and renew his spirit - I am not fit for the likes of this. I too, am sinful, am carrying armour and judgement and behaviours not fitting for a daughter of the King... but God chose me to be by this man's side. And God chose him to be by my side.

and here we are, with our growing family. our hearts. our home.

we are blessed in so many ways.
and we need so much more.

So I have no choice but to carry the cross with him that people who are also trying to walk in the light of Christ have laid on his back. It's weight digs deep into my flesh, tears me open and wounds me daily.  I cringe beneath the weight of it. I bear it somewhat silently, with much less grace than my Lord. I am unsure, daily, of how to ask for His help in carrying it, too -

and yet know in the depths of my being that He is waiting for me, for us, to drop it, and lay it at His feet because He desperately wants to carry it for us.

and so I pray.
I pray for the accusers.
I pray for my Man,
I pray for myself.
I pray for bigger problems than these, I pray for God to continue breaking my heart for what breaks His, and it sickens me to be weighted by something as trivial as this - when there are children dying - abandoned, and Christians sit back and judge and point fingers and sit on their self-righteous thrones and throw stones.
I pray for guidance, for wisdom, for peace, for patience. for love.

above all, I pray for forgiveness. For them.
God, help us.


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