There is a lot going on.

Every eyeball I see has a tear in the corner.

It is  h a r d.

I like to be the preachy prayee one;  the one that says it’s all going to be okay, just trust and believe. And believe me, I believe that.  Trusting, surrendering, believing has gotten me through every dark and scary corner I have ever known.

But sometimes, before you can trust or believe, even sometimes before you can pray.  You have to cry.

You have to walk in someone else’s deep pain.

You have to wipe tears and hold hands.  You have to feel shaking shoulders and breaking hearts. When the word says to bear each other’s burdens;  I believe this is the real actual call to hurt with the hurting.

A preacher once told me one must bleed when her beloved is cut. I forget this sometimes. You see I am a solver and a fixer and a planner and a doer.  I whip out band aids and scripture and checkbooks and hammers. 

Sometimes, almost every time, my response should be tissues, soft words and warm hugs. I don’t do this part well.  I like to see God move in the rear-view mirror,  waiting for Him and seeking Him feels distant and daunting.

It is not of matter of when He will show up.  Face it, He is always near.  It is when we will sense His presence, His peace, His wisdom pushing us in the direction of healing.

Healing is odd too.  Sometimes it is physical, sometimes emotional.  Sometimes it is heaven.  Often times it is surrender.

It is the white-fisted full release of everything we hold onto.  It is the complete sacrifice of control and the full inhale of God.  It is freedom.

It is the freedom to let Him choose.  It is the opening of our hearts to what He finds good, instead of what we have decided is best.

It is the extraordinary acceptance of grace.