January | 2014 | Dancing On My Ashes

by Heather Spring {Gilion}

I’ve heard some of the saddest stories lately. The kind of suffering that you can barely say aloud. I know it’s nothing new that people are hurting… but sometimes the tragic experiences of another leave me in a heap emotionally. A father taking his life while his family is in the home. A toddler raped and now in the arms of Jesus. A grieving widow giving birth to her child without her husband by her side. A friend I’ve spent years praying for, hearing his cancer is growing… again. A dear friend of mine endured a mastectomy. My phone alerting me that there’s an AMBER ALERT nearby. Another email from a widow… and then another. An acquaintance reaching out because she’s walking through a divorce.

I pray.
Or I want to.
Sometimes I don’t know what to say.
I just sit there, teary, saying, “I don’t even know where to begin, Lord.”
I feel like my words can’t say what I want to say.
My words aren’t adequate. “Am I even making sense, God?”

That’s when I feel the groaning in my soul. The words that are beyond me, rising to the One who hears even the deep aches that I can’t put into words.

There’s a real, physical pressure in my chest. My heart seems to weigh too much for my chest to carry.

Sympathy and empathy can be heavy. We “feel” another’s pain, at least a portion of it.

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” {Gal. 6:2 ESV}

In my own life I have walked through a season of unbearable pain. For those of you who know me, this is old news, but losing my dad and my sister and I losing our husbands all in the same year almost killed me. But let me tell you, I am a walking testimony of the power of prayer. Family, friends, and strangers wept over my pain. Strangers carried my burdens. Acquaintances dropped to their knees for me. For me?! Family and friends offered up wordless prayers to the One, and ONLY One, that could care for my heart in the darkest season in my life, to date. Thirteen years later, I continue to meet people that “heard” of my story and prayed for me! It’s a very humbling thing to meet a stranger that was so moved by your pain that it drove them to their knees on your behalf. I’m alive today, in part, because of the prayers of others. I’m grateful for the body of Christ that stretches across state lines and oceans to love one another in this way. That is truly a picture of God in us.

Oh, empathy. You are a part of me now. I accept the role you play in my life. I’ll take the weight that pushes down upon my chest, as it reminds me to bow before the cross. Prayer seems like such a small thing, but it’s not. We may say it flippantly, “I’ll be praying for you.” Or comment on someone’s FB status, “I’m praying!” As trite and overused as those words may sound, prayer is probably the sweetest gift you can give to the hurting.

When I hear stories of heartache and brokenness, may I kneel before my God and lay these burdens at His feet. It’s on my knees that I’m reminded of my position in this life—I am not the Messiah. I am not in control and I cannot fix people. I cannot protect others from getting that phone call or that knock on the door, but I can join into their upward groans. I can speak to God on another’s behalf. And with full assurance, even as the tears stream down my cheeks, hope rises. Because I know He is more than enough.

“My God, my hope is anchored in You. You alone are our prize. If we knew what You know, we would pray for these things in our lives. We would. If we understood how much You love us, we would trust You completely. For when we grope in the night, we will find You! And finding You, knowing You, experiencing You is what brings LIFE.

God, nothing happens outside of Your knowledge and Your care, may that not make us angry—but free. You are indeed sovereign and good. We may weep, but may we not lose heart, for in You we can find peace when all is chaos.

Lord, there are times You may seem far away, but You are as near as our skin. Closer still. We can breathe in strength for the moment… each moment. We can wail, we can grieve, and we can cry our little hearts out even for strangers and know YOU HEAR US! Even our wordless prayers. And the best part is, we’re not praying alone—You are praying too.”

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” {Romans 8:26 ESV}

“[Jesus] is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.” {Romans 8: 34b ESV}

How can I pray for you today?

{A song for the grieving believer. Listen and be encouraged!}

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If you are curious about Jesus, go here.

To read more about the book Dancing On My Ashes, or to purchase the book, go here.

by Heather Spring {Gilion}

We’re a week into the new year.

On December 31^st, I asked my husband if we should make any New Year’s resolutions. He thinks they’re dumb. I think they’re kinda fun, but then again I’m a little bit on the competitive side. So mine are really contrived from a game-mentality. When I make a resolution I go through the entire year trying not to lose against myself. On January 1, I glare at myself in the mirror. Threatening myself, “It’s on like Donkey Kong!” Now, the hubs, he’s not competitive by nature. In high school he decided he wasn’t going to play basketball anymore because he just wasn’t “into it,” he had other scholastic aspirations. But what’s one of the first things I hear when someone meets him? “Dude, I bet you played some serious ball in school!” Why? Because he’s tall. He’s so tall when he gets frustrated at me he says, “Don’t make me come down there!” {I’m kidding. I’m kidding. He only says that to the kids.}

So Dallas may not be competitive, but he’s a planner and he’s constant. {He’s also constantly planning, but that’s for another blog.} Like, it’s silly to ask if he’s going to work out or read his Bible or mess around on his guitar or eat oatmeal or give me a hug and kiss when he walks in the house. Or will he call me right when I pour the milk in my cereal? I know the answer to these questions. Of course! He’s constant. He’s my steady-teddy. So, in his mind there’s no need for silly “new year’s resolutions!” If he sees a reason to add something, he adds it. If something needs to be subtracted… done… did it yesterday. “Lasterday” as our four-year-old says.

But for me—change—it takes me a minute. I don’t want to make a promise and not keep it. {Been there, done that.} I weigh the decision—the pros and cons. I have even been known to grieve what I know will be in my best interest. {Like the time I gave up Dr. Pepper. I still meet you in my dreams.} And some “resolutions” I know I’m about to make are not just for a year, but for life. Internally there’s a bit of a fight. I’ve been known to get a little grumpy with those around me when I’m making a change. Change always requires something from us. Time. Learning new habits. Abandoning “ease” to take on a season of planning and structuring for the new. Giving up or giving in or doing away with or adding onto, it all takes work to arrive at a new normal. Sacrifice.

So, my man didn’t engage my “New Year’s Resolution” talk, {I was thinking about giving up almonds, I don’t like them much anyway}, but he came to me with a New Year’s Evaluation List. It was intense. It covered our relationship with God, with one another, with our children, our roles, our jobs, our dreams, our goals, vacation plans, expectations, and much more, because like I said he’s a planner and he’s constant. {Yet another reason I think he’s constantly awesome!} Dallas led us in a time of reflection and discussion and prayerful evaluation as we embark toward what God has for us in 2014. We’re still discussing. The self-evaluation is still happening. But as two very different people, we must come together as one so we can support and encourage one another when distractions and other “good” things tempt to steal from what we know to be our calling.

I’ll spare you all the things that are swirling around in my noodles and give you the “peak” in all my self-evaluation for 2014.
{peak = the thing that is beyond me but that is luring me higher.}

There are some specific questions I’m asking the Lord, regarding my time and what I spend my energy on. I want to be in-line with His will for my life. Desperate for it, really. And I know myself; I can get a bit distracted at times. But this question seems to have become what lingers at the top of this year’s mountain. It’s what’s haunting me and drawing me all at the same time:

Will you go without knowing?

Because I’ve been asking God a lot of questions lately.
“What are You going to do with this?”
“If I do this, how’s it going to end up?”
“What are You going to do with that dream?”
“Am I waaaay off base spending my time on this?”

Will I go without knowing how things will turn out?

Can I? Will I?

God does not tell you what He’s going to do. It’s taken me a long time to get this. I still catch myself asking for the outcome and begging Him to reveal details. But He answers my questions in a very unexpected fashion: He reveals Himself. He shows me WHO He is and surprisingly, with that, my heart is settled and my faith increased as I go out in confidence. Laying down my expectations and my agenda, this is my daily battle. But as I understand more of the character of God, I need not wonder if I’m out here alone. I’m not. I don’t have to fret about the details. I just need Him. I place my ear upon His heart and I listen. I open His Word and I breathe Him in. I hold fast to His still small voice that’s ever with me and I obey. I need to be still and know that He is indeed—GOD. I need to trust when He says, “Hang a left,” that the best way is left. I need not fight to turn right.

When I wake each morning, will I go out? I can re-evaluate. I can make a plan. {And my tall hubby is more than happy to help me make one.} Again, there’s nothing wrong with making a plan. But will I be dependent upon Him, come what may? Will I be flexible, scrapping my plan for His? Will I go and do and be without knowing how this will all play out?

I’m trekking up the mountain, whispering my vow: I will.

I’m Yours.

I’ll go.

I trust You.

I know You are good.

You alone satisfy my soul.

I don’t need to know the how’s or the why’s or the when’s, I just need to, with each step up the mountain, anchor my hope in You. For You, my Lord, will not disappoint.

He alone knows what 2014 holds for me and I’m okay with not knowing… because I know HIM. I will go.