Turning Notes
When there is hurt and pain, where do you turn?
I drive my daughter who sits quietly in her seat - her eyes are down and the smile that normally graces her face is nowhere to be seen.
I have years and experience and the knowledge that seasons come and change just as quickly as those around us, but this one? She doesn’t. All she knows is that her heart is hurting and she isn’t sure why or what she’s done…just that’s she an extreme - either too quiet or too loud and boisterous and she seems to get it wrong each time.
It used to be that a warm blanket wrapped around small shoulders and a snuggle in front of the fire could fix it all in a matter of moments, but those days are waiting for the small ones in the future that she will carry and hold and comfort in ways that only a mama can.
So where does one turn?
The danger is hardened hearts edged with the weeds of bitterness and anger…the roots that shoot straight down and strangle a soft heart.
She needs me to listen - and I want to explain away the hurt, give an explanation that will help ease the pain, but I know, and she knows, that’s not what she needs.
She needs my ear, my heart, my eyes - she needs me to stand firm for her when her feelings are waves that are surging with confusion and hurt, her heart a vessel being tossed, to and fro.
Where does a mama turn?
While her voice wavers, while the tears flow and the words tumble out, my heart - my heart that beats wildly for her must turn to the One Who calms each storm. If my eyes turn to what is causing the pain, I lose sight of Jesus and her storm becomes mine and the last thing my child needs is a unmoored refuge in these moments.
“ So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the unchangeable character of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.”
Our sure, unchangeable hope is found in Jesus. In the middle of the storm, she may not be able to grasp the truth of it, but I can. I can hold on to the promise as she holds on to me. The peace of Jesus can cover us as we rest in Him as our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Jesus reached for Peter as he began to sink, and the Hand that reached out brought this desperate disciple through the storm to the refuge of the boat and to still water - the storm will still, each storm bows in submission to Jesus, so I can listen to her storm-tossed heart. I can let her press in close and let the words flow…I can cling to my Savior while she clings to me and then point her back to Him knowing that each hurt, each moment that stretches and aches can be used to make her more Jesus.
This is where one turns in these moments, and where we’ll keep turning over the years ahead…
