Sometimes, I think the prayers we don't speak are the loudest. The ones that make you sob with grief and you just can't even think of words to say what's in your heart. The ones that leave you feeling so small and insignificant. The ones that come from a place of pure desperation. These don't need words for our Father to hear them.
In fact, I have to believe that God hears those as well as the ones we articulate well. I have to believe that He comes alongside us when we can't speak them and just holds us while we cry. And I believe that He's not worried about fixing it in that moment--he's more worried about comforting our heart.
Like when a child breaks a glass and is bleeding. We don't clean up the glass first, we tend to our child's wounds. Once they are cared for, we go about putting things in order, but not until we know our child is safe.
While I THINK I want the fix first, I believe what I really want--what any of us want--is the comfort.
The peace that washes through me when I know I am loved.
The grace that even if the thing I need fixing is my fault, He will not hold it against me.
The hope that my brokenness is not only seen, but is cared about.
No comments:
Post a Comment