Dear sister in the pew across mine:
I see the way you grip your hands when
you see your younger siblings take over the corporate scene. I see the way you
try not to cry as you watch your younger sister get married. I see the way you
lean your head back blinking back tears as your best friend brings forth new
life into this world. I see the way you stare straight ahead, willing not to
think about it.
I see you.
When my husband and I walk into that
church meeting, your eyes catch mine and then quickly look away. Turning
from the sight of someone who has what you want. Anything to keep from dwelling
on what you want, but you do not have.
I see you at the grocery store, too. At
the park. At the restaurant. At the work party, the neighborhood potluck, the
family reunion.
But somehow it feels even more painful
when I see you at church. Maybe it’s because I know you’ll have to sit in that
wedding ceremony for a whole hour, not just one quick turn down the store’s
aisle or a sidewalk’s length at the park.
Let me encourage you, I also have that
one thorn in the flesh that I wish the Lord would take away.
I am sitting right where you are (maybe at a
different angle) - musing over an invisible pain, a pain I cannot talk about.
Praying with Aryuv balled in my fists,
praying with tears at the corners of my eyes, praying for the strength not to
envy, praying for this to be the year, praying to a God I cling to and yell at,
all at once.
I can guess know the way you’re
thinking; because I too do question God’s agility, will He ever heal this
invisible pain? A God I wish I could see and touch.
I
wish I could tell you it gets better. I wish I could make these miracles happen
for us. I wish I could prophesy an end to your pain, I wish I could take away
all these thorns.
I
get bogged down by the load I find myself carrying, and am just unable to pray
for myself, but when the praying giant arises, I pray for you – and I assure
you: I see you in your invisible pain.
So while you’re sitting there at church on Sunday,
feeling alone in your pew and alone in your heart, remember that someone
out here sees you and prays for you.
But things can start to shift once we start
seeing each other.
In my invisible pain, the Lord reminded
me this passage of scripture:

Ø We
are to increase in this season of exile, we are to seek the Peace of God and
the fruition of God’s purposes,
Ø God
still has great plans for us, and in His timing, maybe today, or tomorrow, or
in twenty years’ time, He shall fulfill His good promises to us.
Lots of Love and Grace.
Amen
ReplyDeleteThanks dear.
DeleteNice one.
ReplyDeleteThanks gal. Am back, decades later.
DeleteWith lots of zeal and fire.
Looking forward to reading more of your articles.
ReplyDelete