Just to keep it real, my personal life hasn’t been “fine.” It’s been hard. Not hopeless or despairing, just hard.
I’m in a season of allowing God to mend some painful wounds. And through this recent “pressing into Him” He has proven (again) that He will always be the Soul-Healer.
I don’t say that lightly. I don’t say that like some cheesy greeting card that tries to make you believe there’s hope. I say that having experienced His comfort in spite of circumstance.
Not to be the cyberspace downer of the day, but people will hurt us. And we’ll hurt them. Until Jesus makes all things straight, we’re just a bunch of messy, selfish souls living next to one another. And wounds will come.
But there’s this throneroom. And sitting in it with all His glory is the Healer of hearts. He doesn’t impose Himself. He doesn’t make us enter in. But He waits with His balm of love.
Our call is to bow. Our call is to go to Him with the wound — with it gaping open, causing anguish and sorrow. Our call is to lay it before Him.
That just means we get real. We go to Him instead of racking up that credit card or filling the prescription that we don’t really need. We go to Him instead of drinking ourselves into a coma or getting revenge on the causer of pain.
We cry the ugly cry and tell Him all we’re feeling. We scream and holler and shout out the fears. And once we’re empty of us, we sit still. We listen. And we recite what’s true and read His love again and again.
And like water to burning coals, He soothes. He allows us a glimpse into the gift of “suffering” because of its ability to bring a deeper, more intimate faith. (2 Corinthians 12:9)
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
I don’t say any of this lightly. I say it as one who, by His great grace, has learned that there’s only one place to go for true soul healing. I say it as one who’s learned to process pain in the presence of God. Otherwise our hearts remain restless.
I’ve recently discovered singer/songwriter Audrey Assad (love her and yes I live under a small rock since I *just* discovered her). She recorded this video talking about worship and then leads into her song “Restless.”
Yes, the video is 9 minutes. But I promise, if you make the space to watch it as an act of worship, you’ll be blessed. If you just don’t have 9 minutes, the song itself starts at 5:16. Also totally worth it.
(Click here if you can’t see the video.)
Fill me, Lord…
Testify of a time when God has healed a wound in your own soul.
love audrey! love this post!
So many wounds, to many to mention. But … I can attest to the fact God’s healing is more powerful then, revenge, the mindless compulsion to re-play and re-play the hurt in your mind until it devours you. Time spent with the God who created the whole Universe, then took time to hear you whimper out in pain, is more powerful than any drink, pill, or obsession on the wrong done to you. But… I do believe you actually have to spend time with Him. I have tried to go through hurts with only faith. Faith with out my action to get in the word, to get on my knee’s, never went to well. Loved this post. So powerful! Thank you for sharing your heart!
Thank you, friend. I think you’re right. We have to choose to press into Him — reaching for Him like that woman reaching for Jesus through the crowds.
Thank you for being real. And for being faithful to One.
I must be living under a similar rock, so thanks for sharing the video.
Glad to know I’m not the only one under there. 😉
Beautiful video- the narrative and worship music. Lara…thank you for being a welcomed part of my morning cup of coffee. Today, this morning I faced decisions with a client that awoke my slumber in the night. First reaction anxiety, next, pray. The world would advocate firing the client. My God told me to preach the law in love and I will deal with her. See…just like that throneroom you spoke of today, he has mercy and love for us, but if we choose not to turn the knob, we are left restless, wanting, hungry. Thank you so much for sharpening me. For being transparent. And being a mom raising God honoring little people for my children to share their generation with.
Love you, sister. “If we choose not to turn the knob, we are left restless.” You bless me with your walk. 🙂
The silence in His room is so important and absolutely not what I expected. The healing for this young girl who went there seems so simple now I don’t know why I never saw it before. As a small child and as I grew I was horribly wounded, physically, sexually and spiritually. At 13 I screamed, yelled, comtiplated the removal of what little remained of myself. As I angrily shared, yelled, screamed inside to God WHY, what was I to do. Why were they allowed to do this. It stopped for awhile but the feelings did not. As I grew so did my unrest to avenge but to avenge meant to drag now my husband and children through things they did not need to know existed in the world. One day I stood in my backyard and looked up to heaven and told God I really struggled to believe he existed and at that time I saw the clouds form int a face, I looked away and said thank you, then he whispered, at their end time they have to account to me about their lives and all their sins They have to answer to me. I said Thank you and cried. I became a different person.
He is absolutely our Avenger. (Which in some ways should burden us for the souls of those who will stand before Him without hope of redemption.) I’m so sorry for your hurts and your pain. Praying now that God would continue to mend.
thank you. He has surrounded me with people who read me pretty well. I now work with senior citizens and as I see them age I also see them no longer as ogre’s to be slaughtered but I see them as human’s who really need his love. I know that I have choices and those choices can lead me forward or pull me back and even hold me still. I am so thankful that there is always someone there to push me forward, go back with me or stand next to me. It does not matter just knowing is healing sometimes.
YES, YES, YES. I tried processing pain the other day all by myself, and I really suck at it. Wonder why…? 🙂
Decided I’ll have to watch the video after the kids go to bed. You know, when it’s silent. {schoolgirl giggling]
I love the way you put things, Lauren. 🙂