Faith, Hope & Love

Social media. Goodness do I have a love/hate relationship with it. I love the freedom it gives me to keep in contact with people. But on the other hand I hate the freedom it gives others to keep in contact with me…

I’ve always been a “to myself person”. I have a lot of rules about Facebook for myself. One of those being to try and never post more then once per day (sometimes I let it slide to two if there is a decent amount of time in-between).  I don’t believe in the “see more” button, because honestly if I have more to say then what can be said in two lines, it doesn’t belong on Facebook

But one of my biggest hates about Facebook, is like I said before, the freedom of it. I love the freedom of being able to share “what’s on my mind” but I hate the freedom of other people putting in their two cents about “what’s on my mind.”

I have a big fear of posting things sometimes because of what other’s think. Especially lately. To say things have been peachy is well, as far from the truth as heaven is from hell. There has been a lot of suffering and a lot of anger in my heart. Even writing that is hard.

It’s hard to get on here week after week and pour my heart out for the entire World Wide Web to read.

This week is just as difficult. There are days when I get on facebook or talk to people from home and just get fed up. It’s hard for me to not become overly upset with people when they talk about spending all this money on this or how they can’t afford the newest of this. When on a daily basis I am reminded of just how little that means. 2 months ago I struggled the most with this. I struggled with angerness towards friends at home as they told me of there late nights out dancing, while I sat at a funeral for a women who I’m uncertain really accepted just how much she was loved and cherished by God. I watched her dead cold body be prayed over and people beg for her to be allowed into heaven while at that same time some of the closest people in my life spent their time dancing and having “the time of their life.”

I struggle everyday walking past beggers saying, “you, you, forengee, forengee, give me birr”. I see the hurt, I see the pain, I see the hopelessness. But I’ve learned how to get out of that anger. I’ve learned to let this view of suffering change my heart. I’ve learned to let God refine me; to melt me down to my core and let myself be purified in His image. I’ve learned to find a joy, a joy in seeing God’s hand at work, a joy that can only be found in suffering.

Through each week I’m able to open up and pour my heart out of my weaknesses, because in those, God is most glorified. I’m able to share my stories and hope and pray that it changes someone’s heart to let theirs be broken for what breaks God’s heart. That my stories and my weaknesses can impact their lives far more then me standing on a soapbox condemning them for what I believe is wrong.  There’s a reason God tells us three things remain: faith, hope and love. There’s a reason the greatest is love.

There is love in suffering and I’m sad it took me 25 years and going halfway around the world to realize it. But I can say more then ever I am thankful for a God who gives me the freedom and the time to figure out that the suffering cup is overflowing with love, hope and faith.

I Need A Reason To Sing

….As he sits in his chair he simply hunches over and places his elbows on his knees and sinks his head into his palms.

Those palms. Dry, cracked, weathered, worn and telling a story of what was and is and has always been.

Slowly his hands fill with liquid. Slow at first then, with every second, more and more. His heart is broken.

He leans over and picks up a round object. He runs his tear soaked fingers along the object and then simply just places it in his palm. He stares at it and cups it close.

Faintly he hears the cry. “Father, please. Help me. If this waiting and pain lasts forever, I’m afraid I might let go.”…

…As she sits in her house she watches the buckets of water falling from the sky. It turns to black just as fast as it lit up and her heart skips a beat as she feels the floor rumble and hears the crack of thunder.

Tears streaming down her face she looks up and simply says, “Father, please. Help me. If this waiting and pain lasts forever, I’m afraid I might let go”….

Everything seems to be falling to pieces. The last few weeks feel like slow motion Matrix action as I watch my heart fall and shatter as they hit the floor. Nothing is what is seemed and I feel like I’m holding on with just my fingertips to this huge cliff. The pain in my arms is unbearable and I feel like just letting go. But just as I’m about to let go something comes to mind. The image of God sitting on his throne, tears down his face as his heart breaks for those who hurt. He sits with the world in his hands and listens. He waits and longs for me to call out to him for help.

Just when I’m about to let go, I remember that I have a God who waits patiently for me to allow him to come to my rescue. For him to come and with his almighty strength pull me from the cliff of death. On my days when I don’t think I can do this anymore and on the days when I “just don’t feel him anymore” I’m thankful for the reminder that we have a fighting God. We have a God who is emotional. Who hurts when we hurt, who fights for us to fall at His feet and who feels the sting of a knife through the heart, even more then we do.

What other nation is so great as to have their god near them the way the Lord our God is near us whenever we pray or call out to him? (Deut. 4:7)