Admitting we’re hurting can be tough. I may react to sadness or pain by retreating, going silent or losing myself in busyness—usually of the mental preoccupation ‘hamster wheel’ kind. What I tend to forget is the need to rest, relax and remind myself to breathe, pause, and pray.
What do we do when prayer itself seems challenging? I find asking others to pray for me, [or writing them down when words fail me] is a good way to eventually overcome any resistance or reluctance to pray.
Being carried by the Body of Christ when we feel too depleted, weak or weary to help ourselves is a rather humbling and wonderful thing. Soon we will be the strong ones ministering to others, returning love, care and encouragement.
Sometimes we should just let ourselves be held, spiritually and physically. Nothing beats a good hug from my man or a friend when I’m feeling low, though online ((hugs)) also help me to feel less alone. 🙂
Here’s a prayer I penned recently, when spoken words stalled and the ache in my heart felt like prayer enough. May you see yourself within the lines and recognise just how much God can lift us when we’re at our lowest…
Your child is hurting, feeling lonely and lost, though I know and trust you are always with me. I’m so often crushed by my circumstances, knowing deep within that they are too much for me to bear without your help, support and sovereignty over every situation which seems painful to me.
Would you rule and reign in me today? Come sit beside and hold your hurting child. Let me sense the warmth of your presence and rest my cares and concerns in your loving, capable hands. May I know my greatest strength comes out of being strongly rooted in Christ.
Fill me with your Spirit. Saturate me with grace. Build me up from the inside out. Correct the distorted lens of my flawed and faulty thinking, and help me to see life from your Holy perspective.
Take my weakness and make something strong in its place. May I always look to you to fill what is drained, dry and depleted in me. Heal my heart where it has becomes torn, broken, bruised, made ragged by the words or deeds of others and damaged by my own carelessness.
Because the mouth reveals what the heart conceals, sanctify my tongue. Let my words be sweet, thoughtful and calm, seasoned with salt, gracious and kind—yes, even those I speak to myself— positive rather than negative.
May I be satisfied to limit my words to few where an excess might cause an unwise over-spill. May I plant good seeds in the lives of others with liberal doses of love, hope and encouragement.
Create beauty out of ashes, glean Hope from life’s detritus and grow deeper faith in life’s hard places. Where I am tempted to sink into despair, provide the gentle cloak and covering of your reassuring love to bring me back from the brink.
May I never lose a sense of your glorious presence, your ability to keep me safe from harm, nor ever stop believing I can be changed and renewed, as can any challenging circumstances I might be going through.