Posts tagged: grieving
Today, I am going to journey to Orange County beaches I don’t normally go to. I am going to break my normal routine, get out and have a day of honest, heartfelt conversations with Jesus. I am going to create space to hear from Him. I am going to, have to, need to, hope to, still my heart and soul, so I can hear from and receive from the Holy Spirit.
I need this.
There are so many things to process. So many things to wrestle with God about. So many things to let my soul grieve about. So many things to let my heart mourn over. So many things to celebrate over. So many things to just let my mind clear space for - so I can hear and listen again. So I can receive again. So I can run the race to the fullest.
If I don’t do this, I don’t know how much longer I can make it. My tank is on empty.
Holy Spirit, I need to hear from you. I need you to breathe life into my soul today. I need you to show me how near you are. You are the Comforter and I need comfort. I need your presence. I need to be filled with strength and energy.
There are rhythms and seasons in life in ministry. Inside this one, I desperately am being reminded about my inadequacy and my inability to do this life on my own. Not only do I need the Holy Spirit, but I need my community. I cannot do this on my own.
Conversely, I am reminded how much I do not want to do this life on my own. I want to do life in community - even when it means I get to bare the authenticity of my fractured and shattered soul.
So here I am, typing out the thoughts of my head, heart and soul.
I am fractured.
I am shattered.
I am splintered.
I am being broken into something almost unrecognizable.
I wonder constantly why I can’t just flip the switch and be okay?
I wonder why I am even sitting in this season to begin with?
I know I am strong like bull, yet still, I have never encountered this season before.
I don’t ever want it to not break me - death should; it better; it must.
But, let me tell you, I need the Holy Spirit to breathe me life so I can run the race God sets before me. Holy Spirt speak. My hands are open. My soul is as ready as it ever will be in this season. Will you please show me the next, best, right step?
If you’ve been following my blog for any amount of time, you know I talk a lot about the Now and Not Yet. This past year has been full of learnings and trials of the now and not yet.
Last night and today are another one of those.
I have been blessed with a great brotherhood - brothers from another mother - that through life, mission, passion, calling and Jesus we have bonded and become brothers. The relationships I have with these men are not something I ever want to sacrifice; instead I will willingly and joyfully sacrifice for them. They are critical and important. With many of these men, I feel and understand the relationship between David and Jonathan in the book of Samuel.
Well, today, I am driving down to hang with a brother, who had has dad pass away from cancer last night. My heart and soul are grieving with him. I am honored to be able to support him and his family in this time. I am thankful to know that his father loved Jesus. I am grateful that Jesus lived 2,000 years ago, was fully God and man, lived a life without sin and willingly sacrificed his life on the cross for the sake of everyone who ever lived, wiping out sin and rising three days later conquering death.
Without this, moments like these would be extremely difficult. Mind you, they still are extremely difficult. The now and not yet is a wonderful and dreadful thing because Jesus has conquered death and sin - yet - the world and people around us are still suffering. Cancer still exists. Fathers still die.
Jesus even said the Kingdom is here. But, it’s not fully here. It’s here - but it will be coming, fully, powerfully, in the future. One day, all will be restored. One day, lions will sleep with sheep. One day, tears of sorrow will be eliminated.
But we live in the middle of the now and not yet. Sin and death are conquered, but they are still here. We live with hope - biblical hope. This is not hope that is wishful, or fanciful. This is expectant hope because it has already been guaranteed us, because Jesus has already won. Easter Sunday proved it.
So, today, I drive down to SD before I close for work, to hang, mourn, grieve and celebrate with a brother.
Please be praying with me.
this is something the church doesn’t understand all the time.
the book of Lamentations is evidence to this. the characters of Job and Jeremiah shed light on the subject.
mourning is good. grieving is good.
