Sometimes there’s so much to say that you are left with no words.
Questions without answers.
Wisdom sought, met with silence.
Exhaustion met with more expectations.
Responsibilities that can’t be missed.
Sorrow followed by deeper sorrow.
All of these, heavy with thoughts and an aching heart, but no words justify what lies beneath. In these moments all I am left with is a weak whispered JESUS! The whispering of His name changes my perspective, soothes my heart, and comforts me. Rest for my weary, aching and troubled soul lie at the foundation of my sweet Jesus’ name.
When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.
Now is your time of grief,
but I will see you again and you will rejoice,
and no one will take away your joy.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,
for I am gentle and humble in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.
About 15 years ago I was teaching in Paraguay and decided to go to a church which was walking distance from my apartment. It was threatening rain, so I took my umbrella with me. As I was walking along the busy avenue, the sidewalk was empty and out of nowhere a man appeared behind me and assaulted me. I turned around, hit him with my umbrella and yelled ‘Turn around and run, in the name of Jesus!” I was shaking and terrified. He could have easily pulled me into the tall grasses of the abandoned property beside the sidewalk, but he cowered, fell to the ground and crawled down the sidewalk, away from me. I believe the name of Jesus made the evil that was within him cower and flee. I believe Jesus was with me on that sidewalk.
Almost exactly 5 years ago, Jason and I stood over the bassinet in the NICU where our newborn son lay, hooked up to machines monitoring his brain activity and vitals. In Jesus’ name we prayed healing words over Mikail and over and over through the next 4 1/2 years we saw the miracle unfold before our very own eyes.
Four months ago, I kneeled beside the still, lifeless body of our precious boy, begging God in Jesus’ name to breathe life into Mikail’s lungs. To give us more time with our miracle baby. My prayers were not answered, but even then Jesus was there. We felt His peace and His presence as our world was ripped apart.
In these past four months we continue to whisper and often cry out: Jesus! There are no words when the flashbacks come. When the pain of missing our boy is too much to bear. There are no words when you are too tired to do the every day tasks of life. And then it comes. One word. One name. It comes in the whisper of Jesus. In the only prayer left to utter: Jesus!
And there He is.