I wanted to help, but didn't know how. Sometimes the best thing we can do for people is give them space, so I did, but she lodged in my mind.
I didn't know what the problem was, didn't know what she needed. She sat there detached, present in body, her spirit far away. I suspect she pushed herself to get out of the house and come, and for that I was proud of her. Yet her attempt to do the right thing didn't seem to help. She remained distracted, troubled, alone.
She stared into space and I wondered if she heard anything. Did she know the words were for her too? I wanted to scream, "Are you listening? Hear the Truth. Don't try to avoid it. Believe it." But there was no opportunity and perhaps she wasn't ready to hear it yet anyway.
So I started praying, both in and out of her presence. I want more for her, better. I want her to know freedom and joy and peace. I get frustrated at my inability to bring her relief.
MY heart hurts, though I have no idea what plagues hers. What can I do? How can I help? How can I make God's love sink into her depths?
My words will never be adequate, so I keep praying. I ask God if there's anything else I can do. I pray. And though I wonder if it's enough, until God gives me something else to do, it must be.
I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Just in case you're reading this, friend, and recognizing yourself, know that God loves you and has great plans for you. Know I love you and want better for you and am praying so hard for you. You are not alone.
Photo Credit: honor the gift