My Spirit is Weighed Down
My spirit is weighed down by so many things these days. I’m tired.
Friends have cancer.
Friends of friends have cancer.
Russia invaded Ukraine.
I know that God is over all, but sometimes my spirit just feels heavy.
Last week I received from a women’s fellowship group a suggested pattern of prayer which makes infinitely good sense for this season of my life.
It also motivated me to get something written again for my own blog.
I took some time a couple of days ago to begin this conversation with the Lord.
I intend to return to it, because I know that I was still holding emotions at arm’s length and consequently not giving God the room to freely address the issues I’m grieving over.
But I have begun the conversation.
I’m not going to try to spell out all the details for you, but I think this outline will be sufficient if you should be inclined to do the same.
Find a place conducive to prayer
Begin with confession and naming the things that trouble you. This may include your own sin or grief for yourself, others, and the world. Identify and name these things before the Lord.
Weep and lament. Give yourself the time you need for this grieving.
Ask the Lord to plant his hope in you.
Wait for it.
Lest I let many weeks go by again before the next blog post, I want to include in this post a shout-out to my dear friends, David and Crystal Knapp, to announce their new book.
Together, they have put together a guided journal, Recording my Sorrows and Hoping for Joy, addressed to persons who have recently (or even not-so-recently) experienced a loss, to assist them in identifying and articulating their emotions in their grief journey and moving toward healing.
You can find information about the book at Recording my Sorrows and Hoping for Joy
In another time of heavy spirit, I wrote the poem “Sorrow.”
When the first words we find
to describe this season of our lives
are words suffused with sadness—
words with pain at their very heart
When tears, close to the surface,
soak our faces with weeping
When pain shreds our hearts,
saps our strength,
makes choosing joy beyond us
We take comfort
that our Lord knows our pain,
but it is still pain, keen and sharp
But the Man of Sorrows
knows that keenness
so we cast it at His feet
and find Him faithful still.