Tag Archives: grief
After several days of trying to pull my thoughts into words this gentleman has done it for me. With His permission I am reposting this. For more of his writing, you can find him here
“Suddenly, a fierce storm struck the lake, with waves breaking into the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples woke him up, shouting, ‘Lord, save us! We are going to drown!’
“Jesus responded, ‘Why are you so afraid? You have so little faith!’ Then he got up and rebuked the wind and waves, and suddenly there was a great calm.”
~Matthew 8:24-26 NLT
I get desperately exhausted every time I consider this passage. The miracle used to amaze me, but now something very different does: Jesus is sleeping.
On a boat.
In the middle of a storm.
He has been serving God so diligently and so determinedly — and so passionately to the point of exhaustion — that the fierce winds and cold rains and frigid waves do not even phase Him as He sleeps.
Finally, He sleeps.
At long last, He can get some rest.
I am amazed at the enormously immense burdens He must have carried that led Him to such a profound point of exhaustion. When I consider my own cross, it makes my head spin.
All the time.
I’m so tired I’m just tired.
But, I can’t sleep through the storms. I see the winds and feel the rains. And my heart jumps every time the freezing waves wash over me. I can taste the salt in my sleep.
But, never rest.
My heart is just too heavy.
I know to be still and know. And I know to trust His sovereignty. That it will all work out in the grand scheme. And in the end. Greater good, and all that. All that.
But, the silence
of an impossible God
keeps up my heart restless.
The God who makes all things possible has created, to my own small mind, the impossible. And mine is a life so impossible I do not want to know what I know. Not anymore I don’t.
And while I always can find someone to listen, I know of no one who can understand, who has been where I am. Difficult to do, actually, since I do not even know where I am.
It’s a place
beyond broken, where
you drift in glorious defeat.
And it is a place where all arguments are absurd, every insult stems from the sin of pride, opinions are the nemesis of truth, and knowledge is completely meaningless.
And people who
do not understand
think you do not care.
And yet, you want so much to find some way to tell them that you do care, but the only words you can find to explain your defeat are that you don’t. That you don’t care.
I do care.
All I do is care.
Ideals are the dreams of blind men. And I am just not a man consumed by the issues of the day. Nor am I the one to take up the cause of the moment. And I’ll tell you why.
I am tired.
I’m so tired I’m just tired.
And I still can’t sleep through the storms. Instead, I am the man of the sea terrified by what I see. And I just want to wake Him up, to calm the storm so I can rest.
I am terrified.
Please, let me rest.