Art by Dori Hartley, used by permission.
Today I heard from a friend in Oregon I‘ve known for decades. Kim and her husband have always been wonderful Christian parents who pray regularly for their kids. Now she tells me that her oldest son—who I’ve known since he was two—is a heroin addict living on the streets in Portland.
I won’t try to describe her anguish.
We’ve all heard these stories. Some of us have lived them. Parents pray faithfully for their children’s safety and well-being. And then something truly horrible and tragic happens.
So why bother praying? Can God really be trusted?
I used to think so. For many years, a critical part of my faith hinged on the idea that my prayers would influence God to intervene in the world on behalf of those I love. If I just prayed hard enough, often enough, and made sure to throw in plenty of thanksgivings before and after, God would come through.
When He didn’t, I pretended not to notice, maybe because it felt awkward and embarrassing to point out to God how much He had let me down.
Or I told myself that God had declined to do my will for good and loving reasons I might understand later.
Or I told myself that I just hadn’t prayed with enough faith and fervor to move God to act on my behalf.
Or, especially during my drinking years, I concluded that of course God doesn’t answer prayers from drunks like me. But would God punish other people just because I prayed for them and he needed to say no to me?
It was all very confusing.
Something I haven’t mentioned in this blog yet is that I’m also the mother of an alcoholic. By the time I got into recovery in my early forties, my oldest son Noah was in deep trouble with drinking and drugs.
For years I anguished. And I prayed. And I fasted. I offered up all kinds of affirmations predicting God’s help—as if pretending my faith was firm could make it less like the jello it really was.
One morning, I got a phone call from Noah. He was in such a dark, scary place that I had no idea what to say to him. And every word I did say sounded hollow. Tragedy seemed imminent. If my son didn’t die of an overdose or a car accident, I feared he would take his life.
After we hung up, I couldn’t help wondering how long he could hang on.
Or how long I could. Sitting there in my office chair, cradling the phone, something about this whole prayer-of-faith formula—at least as I’d been practicing it—began to enrage me. I just couldn’t bear the responsibility of praying hard enough to save my son anymore. Neither could I deny any longer the betrayal I felt about the very idea that I had to twist God’s arm harder to make Him care more.
I began to cry. More truthfully, I wailed. I told God that I was sick and tired of feeling like I was being forced to repeatedly watch my child about to fall off a high cliff, knowing that no matter how fast I got there, it would not be soon enough to catch him.
And then I felt myself being led where no mother wants to go—deep into the territory of worst-case scenario. In my imagination, and more important, in my heart, my son died. I cried and keened and wrestled with God. I don’t know how long this went on, but I finally arrived somewhere outside of and beyond my faith.
For the first time, I realized that I could not trust God to keep my son—or anyone’s son—out of harm’s way. Because God can’t be trusted to deliver a particular outcome. He can only be trusted with, or in spite of, any outcome. He can only be trusted no matter what.
But “no matter what” is a dagger to a mother's heart, because it means that your only hope is to surrender all hope. “No matter what” is a place you never want to go. Now I saw clearly that it would have to be everything or nothing. Either I trusted God with Noah’s entire life (and his death if it came) in a way that surpassed my understanding of what is good, or I didn't trust Him at all.
That morning, I decided to place my son and all my hope in the hands of a God whose love is so vast and incomprehensible that it encompasses everything— even tragedy. I decided to put my hope in a God so good that one day, if only in eternity, even death and suffering will make some kind of beautiful sense.
Of course, I didn’t resolve all my questions about prayer that day. But something shifted. I determined that I would no longer pray to a God who was a puppet on a string, His will being tugged this way or that, depending on how hard people prayed or if they managed to stay awake.
I still pray. I still ask God to intervene. I still think that kind of prayer has a place. Why else would “Help me!” fall from our lips so often and so naturally? In fact, my entire recovery from alcoholism rests on my belief that God does intervene, that He can and will do for me what I can’t do for myself.
A couple weeks ago Noah celebrated four years of continuous sobriety. He’s a walking miracle, working hard on his own recovery, and every day I’m grateful. But the way I see things now, he probably wouldn’t be where he is today if he hadn’t hit that terrible “bottom” I had been begging God to save him from.
I keep this in mind today as I pray for Kim’s son. Really, I’m not just praying, I’m pleading. I’m begging. Not because I think God needs to be persuaded to care more, but because I know He already does.
[By the way, I asked for, and received, permission from my amazing son before I wrote about him.]
I blog every MWF. If you want my posts to come to your email automatically, there’s a button on the right sidebar.
I really think it’s up to the individual. I think faith just helps us believe that we’re siphoning off of a greater power, but that the real power is the individual will. Faith just makes people feel like they’ve got back up, or some magical “extra” that they can count on. However, you can’t count on the invisible when the moment requires the tangible fix. We always have to remember that no matter what or who we believe in, the force-power-energy that ignites that concept comes in the form of: helping hands, doctors, therapists, talk, human contact, love…
Put it this way… if you found out the there was no God, proof positive, you’d still have to figure out a way to solve your problem, so… there ya go.
Hi Dori, Thanks so much for commenting here. Your comment about the power of the individual will
really struck me. Of course, in recovery we talk a lot about the failure of our will power. But you
have a great point about how powerful it is, too. I mean, it’s amazing how much it resists the idea
that it can’t overcome any obstacle or temptation if it just applies itself. But at some point, in alcoholism,
anyway, we start to drink against our own will. And do what we don’t want to do. Which is why in the end it
seems that turning our will over to God is the strange escape that works. It’s hard to wrap the mind around.
Means so much that you came and commented.
Close to heart and home. I’m laughing a hearty joy laugh of thanks to God for you and Noah! My heart is breaking a little for one of my sisters who happens to hit bottom at least once a year.
Thanks for posting this, Heather.
~ Wendy
Wendy, thanks so much for commenting. Sorry about your sister. It’s true, some people seem to have so
bottoms in them that we wonder if they’ll ever really hit the one that makes all the difference. It just
goes to show you the power of addiction. Thank God that God really is more powerful. In the meantime, it
is so hard to watch. I’ll say a prayer for your sis today.
Heather, Latayne Scott wrote about this recently too at NoelGreen.com. Her husband has been in ICU for weeks, and early on she wrote, “Our faith is in God, not in outcomes.” A hard but essential and wonderful faith-place to get to. Not sure I am there 100%, but headed in that direction. Thanks for this post.
Thanks, Diane. I’ll go check it out. Appreciate the comment so much. And yes, of course this idea applies
to so many things, not just kids!
Love love todays blog it hits home on som many levels…it’s so nice to know that I am not alone. God is good and on time when we least expect it, I guess the thing I love most is that it’s never on our time , its always His. He will break us…yet always has the unending love, time and patience to help rebuild us.. Psalm 84:6
Thanks for stopping in here and for your comment. You’re so right, it’s never on our timeline! I always
say that God absolutely loves the last minute–because by then we’ve quit relying on ourselves. I don’t
remember how I found you only that you have the CUTEST BABY on the planet. I had to call my husband to come
look at the photo where she’s propped in the corner of the couch. Oh my.
I know that’s the kind of faith God wants from us. That’s the kind of faith that lets him boast to Satan “Do you see how my servant maintains his integrity? He fears God and shuns evil even though you incited me against him for no reason.”
You are right, Heather. The only way I can aspire to that kind of faith is to trust him “no matter what.”
Wow! What a powerful testimony!! The lesson learned here truly is beyond typical faith.
Thanks, Donald. Hope we connect again.
I know that’s the kind of faith God wants from us. That’s the kind of faith that allows him to say to Satan “Do you see how my servant maintains his integrity even though you incited me against him for no reason?”
You are right, Heather. The only way I can aspire to that kind of faith is to trust him “no matter what.”
Thanks, Barb! I am so glad we connected. Makes me so happy knowing you are reading. Too bad I’m gonna beat you at
WWF.
How painful and freeing it is to finally discover that God’s LOVE is what never wavers. That God loves wayward sons and daughters and mothers and fathers not necessarily to be a rabbit’s foot, but to be our constant in a world of mystery and hurt. That’s what’s so dangerous about God–God with us every terrifying and awful step of the way.
Linda, you sound like this brilliant author I know who once wrote about a dangerous God. Love your words. Love
having you here on my blog. So honored.
Humbled by you, as always. It’s an honor to hear from you so often. Your blog is candy to a terrible candy addict. So you cannot stop. ~Linda
Oh, Linda. You are such a dear. This post was a wild ride. Mostly because so many parents are hurting. And everyone
knows someone who is an addict or an alcoholic. And, of course, we all struggle with this trust thing. Thanks so much
for being such a faithful reader. We have our own admiration society going, don’t we? It’s cool.
Thanks for the honesty here. It helps me with a friend of mine. To understand better and if God give the opportunity, to share something from someone who’s experienced her emotions.
I hope it helps your friend a little. Thanks so much for taking the time to comment.
Wow. This post really blew me away.
It’s a fact that I’ve come to accept that God defies my understanding and that He’s always ready to do what’s best for His children. Even if we don’t know why things happen as they do, God does, and that should be enough.
I struggle with it sometimes, but I’ve learnt to trust him. To praise him even when things are going badly.
I’ve also found that some of the best conversations I have with God is when I have to wrestle with Him over something. It keeps me honest with Him and with myself.
I’ll pray for you, your son and your friend’s son.
God bless.
Misha, thanks so much. I am so glad you took the time to post here, especially since they make it kinda
complicated. Or maybe I’m just old and impatient. That line here–”I don’t know why things happen as they do, God does,
and that should be enough” strikes home. It should be. But it so often just isn’t. I know we’re not promised anywhere
that life will make sense, but its human nature to keep expecting it to, and also to try to read the tea leaves frantically
searching for that small sign that all of this heartache isn’t random. I sure hope you’ll come back to my blog again. I love
hearing from readers like you.
These are difficult stories to hear, but at the same time these stories are the only ones really warranted to be told. My skin crawls when I hear people say, “Just Trust God” when everything in my being asks the question, “but how?”
This kind of question needs more attention than a quick comment from a blog, but a few things that I KNOW are these:
1. God became more real to me when I was flat on my face, broken beyond any form of fixing I could do.
2. When I’d had enough of “churchie answers” and needed to get a real shot from my Heavenly Father, I let him have it. I stood in my bedroom and screemed at Him, telling Him what I thought of His “unfailing love”. I cried out loud that I had never been so alone and I didn’t see Him anywhere. Was THIS what I could look forward to from Him?
3. Through angry tears, I felt Him say, “Okay, you’re finally honest with me … I can work with that.”
Life has taken many turns for me … lots good and some not so good … but when I finally gave all my pent up anger to God, I was able to truly let it go and see Him more clearly. You’re right, He does love you more than you could possibly know. And unlike us, He knows all … nothing surprises Him. So when a day of tragedy comes to us, He’s already there; preparing a safe place for us to find solace.
Too much to say about this topic. But I know, without a doubt, that all the bad things that have happened in my life have been opportunities to glorify God. Maybe not at the time that they happened, but the opportunity came nonetheless.
Darkness brought you to write this, right? What a blessing for me to read of your journey. Thanks for sharing difficult thoughts with honesty.
Robin, thanks so much for your response. I am nodding my head with every sentence here. And yes, it is
amazingly better to just admit it when we’re confused and angry at God. I think He likes it when we beat on
His chest, as it were. That is real and honest engagement with Him. You sound like a friend. Please keep
coming back and let’s keep talking. Love your thoughts here and so will others. Heather
Thank you for sharing your story and blessings on you and your sons. I believe most followers of Jesus are familiar with Romans 8:28–”And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” Go back a couple of verses to Romans 8:26-27–”Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit HImself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Now He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God.” To me this is vastly comforting. The important thing is to pray and let God work it out. I believe those groanings are on behalf of the one who is praying, by the way.
Here’s the same passage from The Message:
“Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.”
Beautiful. That’s it exactly. I was just commenting to another reader how much I pray these
days without words. Thanks SO much for reading and for talking to me here. Blessings, H
As I write this, my 18-year-old son has been in rehab for 20 days. Twenty-two days ago he admitted to me he was a heroin addict and asked for help. For most of my sons’ lives, I was diligent in prayer – a conversation not measurable by minutes on knees, but immeasurable by inhales and exhales. I prayed as equally and deeply in seasons of joy and innocence as in seasons of pain and ugliness. I prayed the parents’ prayer thousands of times – you know the one, “let me take his pain so he doesn’t have to hurt so much” – as if such a prayer when prayed sincerely would surely trigger a debit transfer from one soul to another.
My family’s world has fallen to pieces dozens of times in the past seven years. During that time, my prayer life changed dramatically.
I didn’t pray the debit transfer prayer 22 days ago.
While I have maintained a conversation with God, it’s no longer a swing from selfless bargaining to selfish hoping. It’s no longer pleas or please or even very much “thank you.” It is just one man talking to his creator or himself and wondering how to differentiate between the two.
I consider with studied skepticism any answers (easy or not) to that question (and its corollaries) “what is prayer?” and find myself shaking my head at them all, resting instead on a version of faith that, depending on the way the sun is shining, also looks surprisingly like un-faith.
I’ve spent fifty-plus years dedicated to the pursuit of Mystery. Apart from facts and figures and history and even theology, I have come to accept that I know less, not more, about that Mystery today. And so as my younger son begins his life-long journey of recovery – the same time as my older son and his wife begin the life-long journey of parenting – I embrace restlessness and uncertainty and hope as the same thing- as some truth about God that may or may not make sense to God, but surely will confound me as long as I remain less than omniscient.
I’m okay with that.
And I’m not.
So I press on.
Wow. You’ve been there. I sorry about your son. Another thing we say when there’s nothing else to
say. I completely relate to the shift in your praying. I originally talked here about how these days I
often and mostly pray without words. Because words just fall so short anymore. And God knows. I also totally
resonated with your prayer to take his pain. Oh man, how many times i have wished I could do that. And I STILL
really would in a heartbeat. My son is doing well and in recovery, but he also continues to struggle hugely
with depression at times. And no matter how hard he tries to address it from every angle, it persists. It seems
so unfair. It seems like some of us are just designed mentally and emotionally and chemically to carry more
pain in our psyche, and in our soul, too. I am honored that read my blog post and I am hoping that lots of people
your amazing words here and find solace or at least a sense of kindred recognition. Mystery is the right word. And
it gets more that way every minute I’m alive. It’s a good place to be, though. Letting go of answers and bearing
with the questions feels way more right than being “right.” Thanks again. I hope you’ll keep reading. Heather
Hi, Heather. It’s a tough one, isn’t it? I believe God delivers those who WANT to be delivered. So while we can pray and pray and pray for those in our lives trapped in addiction or other destructive behaviors, when nothing changes, it’s easier to blame God for doing nothing rather than looking at the big picture and realizing that until that person CHOOSES to change, our prayers are probably not going to make much difference. Can God work a Saul smack down, smack ‘em upside the head and bam you’re all healed kind of deal on our loved ones? Sure. But in this age of skepticism, who would believe it? I’ve watched several family members suffer with one thing after another – drugs and alcohol are not fun enemies. I’ve often wondered why God isn’t answering our prayers. Why doesn’t He just DO something?! Why don’t they? I don’t claim to have the answers. I wish I did. But I pray anyway and trust that one day, one day when we’re all healed and happy and healthy, maybe a little bit of this will make some sense.
Cathy, I somehow missed this post. You are saying important things here. I love having readers who comment in depth and I am so honored that read this. It was a popular post because so many people are hurting in some way related to feeling like God has let them down. Thanks for the insights.
the words that came to mind as I read your conclusion: “Though he slay me…” Yup.
Exactly. Yet. I. Will. Thanks for reading!
I wonder if tears are the purest form of prayer. We each need prayer no matter what, and *especially because* . . . at least I do because I still ask God for an outcome. I love this blog and what you see: “a walking miracle.” I want to look for those more because I have the feeling they’re all around us, in us, most of the time. Thank you for being so brave in your blog. So beautiful.
Jeanette, thanks so much for your words. I hope you’ll keep reading. I love when readers talk
to me. I see a lot of walking miracles in recovery. It’s one of my favorite parts. Thanks for reminding
me of that today.
Beautiful post, Heather! About a very real issue with how we think of God and what we expect from prayers.
I wonder, when the angel called Mary “blessed among women,” did she realize she would watch her son be whipped, tortured and killed? And, yet, God calls her blessed!
Great point! We could all do with a little less blessing in that case. Thanks so much for the
comment. I have a feeling it’s going to stick with me today. Wasn’t part of Simon’s prophecy
also that her heart would be pierced through? God gives us both, I’m afraid. And in a way,that’s
the gift of being awake and alive and in my case, sober. I get to feel it all now.
If a faith the size of a mustard seed can move a mountain, I should be able to have enough faith to pray for sobriety for myself and anyone else, right? But the other side to it is, the mountain doesn’t have free will. If it did, he could say, “Nope. Not moving. Sorry O you of mustard seed faith,” and it would just stay put.
Free will is amazing to have, but so frustrating to fight against. It will always trump our prayers. We serve a loving God that will never force Himself upon us, or upon people we pray for if they don’t want Him.
Damn you free will. I love you.
Adam, I absolutely love this comment! It’s so true. But with addiction it can get even more complicated
than that, I think. In the sense that addiction is almost the definition of free will interrupted. I just might
blog about that for tomorrow. I love your last comment. Damn you free will. I love you. It’s an amazing paradox
we live with, isnt it?
Wow. You just put into words everything I have been struggling with for the past 15 years, as the mother of an addict. I could never put into words how I feel like I’m praying on deaf ears. I still pray, every day, that “something” will fall into place, and a “miracle” will happen. Now I feel like I have some clarity. Thanks!
Teresa, I’m sorry to hear about your struggle. It’s so heartbreaking. I am so glad that this post helped
in some way. We say in recovery, “Don’t give up before the miracle happens.” That goes for moms, too. I hope
you’ll keep reading. Best to you. I’m praying for you right this minute.
Thank you for your honesty. As I read it my eyes filled with tears and the lump in my throat is back. I want to cry and I don’t all at the same time. God took me on that journey with my son too. I think he’s emerging out of the dark and back to God at this point. God knows and he asks me to not look too far ahead. Learning to live one day at a time.
This five year journey was one to the heart of God. No longer did he allow me to pray based on merit and believe platitudes. Prayer became real. Tough. Painful. Without knowing. My prayers did not control God. Ultimately I could only pray, “Jesus, please help me.” Sometimes for hours while crying and being face down on a hardwood floor. I pleaded and shouted at God during this journey. I told him I could not go on…only to eventually after pouring my heart out and running out of tears…declaring that I would continue to follow. Where else can I go?
I have come to see that prayer is not about God guaranteeing my outcome. Prayer is for me to come to see that God’s outcome will be and I will be OK. Better than OK. God is love. He knows his plans. He’s moving us to his outcome in his time. It takes breaking our will, our control. Nothing I do can make my son well. I did not cause it, I cannot cure it, I cannot control it. (Thank you, Al-Anon.) Prayer is knowing God hears and answers according to his will and good plans. My part is communicating honestly and trusting that he will bring me to this point. I slowly learned to thank him for the answers that were coming in the future, realizing I was living toward them.
In this journey, God taught me vulnerability – allowing others in on the journey. He uses everything if we let him. He used your blogpost. Thank you for encouraging us!
Wow, Henriet, you have really been there. I can hear so much wisdom in your words. You’re someone who has used
brokenness and heartache to get closer to God. I’m inspired by your story. So glad to hear you mention alanon. I
think so many readers could be helped by that group. I am trying to avoid talking about any specific organziations
in the blog, for the sake of anonymity of those groups. Don’t want to represent or be the face, lest I fall. But it’s
funny how we recognize each other so quickly. Best wishes to you. I hope you come back. I love hearing from readers who
have so much to offer the people who take time to read comments. More do than you’d think.
I needed that more than you can imagine. Thanks!
Hi Liz! Love the name of your blog. I’ll try to remember to come visit you soon. Love meeting other bloggers and I’m
so happy that you got something you needed today.
This was so amazing to read. I just quit my job today. I took the plunge to stand up for my own dignity and worth as a woman. I’m scared and feel very unsure as to what the next coming weeks will bring but Trust–trust in God hands that encompass this entire mess, the totality of the situation. This was so uplifting to read. Thank you.
Kimberly, congrats. Or does that sound weird? Congrats on quitting?:) Sometimes quitting is the bravest thing
to do. Just ask any drunk. Ha. I am so glad my post was meaningful to you. I hope you’ll come back. Keep me
posted.
Heather,
I am not easily moved to tears. Not even when grief is great and the water level high. But this post moved me deeply.
I’m in a season of great loss, and honestly, of great anguish and anger in my walk with God. Your words have given me much to ponder.
Thank you.
Oh Kelli. This is one of the most raw and honest comments I’ve gotten on this post. Short but true and thus, I believe
sweet to God’s ears. I used to pound on God’s chest a great deal. (Truth be told, on my husband’s too). I love that
God can take it and that He is always bearing our burdens and anger with us. Hope you’ll come back. Would love
to talk more.
Wonderful. I look forward to reading more of your testimony.
Thanks, Shannon! Glad you took the time to say hi.
I appreciate your honesty, Heather. I know as a mom nothing tears us up more than watching one of our children suffer. It took me awhile to recognize that for me, my ego got involved. As our children reached their teenage years I thought I had made a lot of mistakes, but by God’s grace they were strong people, with values that reflected our family. ( Translation: I had been–and was–a “good mom.)
Then came my reality check. Drop in a few struggles, none life-threatening, thank God, but they rocked my rosy, unrealistic view. I came to realize God worked with our children as individuals. He accomplished in them what they needed, not necessarily in the ways I expected or prayed for–and often, it took awhile. As usual, through their pain He worked in me, too. One quality I can identify is I know I have a more listening heart today. .
God answers prayer, but sometimes it looks like He forgot. NOT!
Oh my. You’ve been reading my diary. You hit it on the head. It’s so easy to let our ego get
the best of us with kids, especially since they are a touch point for conversation. How is Jimmy?
Oh great, you say. He’s only been in jail once this year. Funny, huh? I love your comments and your
perspective here. I hope I get a chance to talk more about it in a future blog. Keep coming back. I
might have to quote you!
Heather – great great post. You managed to capture my emotions and feelings perfectly about how I feel when it seems like God doesn’t respond.
Loved your line: “When He didn’t, I pretended not to notice, maybe because it felt awkward and embarrassing to point out to God how much He had let me down.”
It’s so true – at some point we just have to stop asking the questions and be able to trust God no matter the outcome. I have at times found that disappointment can somehow turn to peace once I turn the outcome over to God. (as I say that, I’m also thinking that perhaps I’ve just grown lethargic and tired of all the drama/emotion/wrestling with God! – I hope not!!)
Have you ever read the lyrics to a song written by Rich Mullins called “Hard To Get”? Talk about a powerful song that your post reminded me of. Rich never even had the opportunity to record it before he died, but what a song that showed his humanity! For a guy who wrote Awesome God and Hold Me Jesus, this song is reveals how even the best of us wonders why God plays hard to get.
(Forgive me, I was going to post just a few lines but they are too good to choose from.)
Here you go:
HARD TO GET
“You who live in heaven
Hear the prayers of those of us who live on earth
Who are afraid of being left by those we love
And who get hardened by the hurt
Do you remember when You lived down here where we all scrape
To find the faith to ask for daily bread
Did You forget about us after You had flown away
Well I memorized every word You said
Still I’m so scared, I’m holding my breath
While You’re up there just playing hard to get
You who live in radiance
Hear the prayers of those of us who live in skin
We have a love that’s not as patient as Yours was
Still we do love now and then
Did You ever know loneliness
Did You ever know need
Do You remember just how long a night can get?
When You were barely holding on
And Your friends fall asleep
And don’t see the blood that’s running in Your sweat
Will those who mourn be left uncomforted
While You’re up there just playing hard to get?
And I know you bore our sorrows
And I know you feel our pain
And I know it would not hurt any less
Even if it could be explained
And I know that I am only lashing out
At the One who loves me most
And after I figured this, somehow
All I really need to know
Is if You who live in eternity
Hear the prayers of those of us who live in time
We can’t see what’s ahead
And we can not get free of what we’ve left behind
I’m reeling from these voices that keep screaming in my ears
All the words of shame and doubt, blame and regret
I can’t see how You’re leading me unless You’ve led me here
Where I’m lost enough to let myself be led
And so You’ve been here all along I guess
It’s just Your ways and You are just plain hard to get”
This just absolutely slayed me. I used to love Rich Mullins. Still do. I have never heard this or
seen these lyrics, though. Amazing!! Wow. I am so glad you took the time to share them with me. I
hope a lot of people see them and are as touched. It reminds me of how I sometimes talk about God
“as I don’t understand Him,” or more bluntly, “God as I just don’t get him.” He is hard to get, darn it.
There’s also a Gerald May quote I love that alludes to this idea. I’ll have to blog about it. Wow, now
I get it how people can go on blogging week after week. The readers feed them all the best stuff! I
hope you’ll keep coming back.
Dave is a cousin of my dad’s – I saw your blog posted on his facebook page. Glad it caught my attention! I’ll be back.
Yes, Dave recognizes you! I do hope you’ll be back. You can always subscribe, too, if it’s easier. That
just means it’ll come to your email box directly every mwf. I am still figuring out how all this works. You
probably already know. Would love to stay connected.
Thanks for posting those lyrics. Things really can get frustratin’ at times to where you just wanna throw in the towel and say “Screw it all.” But then you realize “No, no, that’s not the answer either.” That place between apathy and hope. What’s it gonna be?????
Sara, it’s been years since I heard that song. Back in the years where I thought God was easy to get. So many years ago that I was a little nervous that Rich Mullins was being a bit too hard on God.
But rereading them now stopped me in my tracks.
All I really need to know
Is if You who live in eternity
Hear the prayers of those of us who live in time
…
And so You’ve been here all along I guess
It’s just Your ways and You are just plain hard to get
Amen, Rich. Amen.
Heather,
We haven’t met, but I’d like to someday! Your husband has profoundly influenced my path and the writing of my first book. I will forever be grateful for his wisdom and guidance.
I comment on this post because I had the recent privilege to re-connect with my cousin who has been in and out of jail due to consequences from her alcoholism. I was able to hold her, love her, look in her eyes and share that I believe in her no matter what. It was a trusting God with her life moment. I pray she re-discovers God as you have and will share this site with her.
Thank you for your words, your honesty, and the influence you don’t even know about. My husband and I were given your book, “Praying the Bible for Your Children” over ten years ago. It’s ripped and worn. We’ve wept over it. We’ve read it countless nights over dinner with our children.
Like you, I trust God with whatever the outcome but I just wanted you to know that maybe your prayers reach farther than you imagine…
Thankful,
Kim
Oh Kim. I don’t know what to say. I’m so glad you could be there for your cousin. It’s such a hard thing
to watch, but even harder to live. I do hope you’ll put her in touch with me. I can’t tell you how wonderful
it is to hear that that book was so meaningful to you and your husband. Wow. All I can say is that it so obviously
had nothing to do with me. The parts that worked, I mean. I’m stunned to come crawling out of my self-inflincted exile
from publishing only to have so many readers greet me warmly and tell me what I wrote made some kind of difference. God
is super good with crooked sticks is all I got to say. As for Dave, there is no one more amazing. I just said to him that
I feel like I should have a disclaimer on my blog because he has edited quite a few of them. And he is, quite frankly, in
my totally biased but enlightened opinion, the best editor out there. Okay enough from me. Please keep coming back.
My comment isn’t about the choices of alchoholism or drugs, but about disease. Several friends of mine have been praying for one friend’s brother who we thought had cancer. Yesterday we found out he is cancer free, and well on his way to recovery. We have also been praying for my cousin, who has been struggling with cancer (a relapse–he first beat this same cancer 10 years ago). Last week he was also declared cancer free–because there is no cancer in heaven. But I refuse to say that God didn’t answer our prayers for my cousin. He healed David. Not in the way we would have liked, but we are not in charge here. God is–and He knows the why.
I am so thankful that you and your son have had successful recovery stories. What a blessing! I will be reading more of your posts.
It looks like I missed your comment first time around. In case you did sign up for follow up comments, I just wanted you to now how much I appreciated you responding here. So glad you plan to come back. H
…he probably wouldn’t be where he is today if he hadn’t hit that terrible “bottom” I had been begging God to save him from. Wow. what a powerful statement. I, too, lost the understanding of the necessity of prayer. Afterall, God is going to do what he wants and I just didnt’ see how I was going to change that. Something I am still working on. Especially through my disappointments in my life. All I can do is trust Him and I found praying His word back to Him was more powerful than anything I could come up with on my own. Thank you for your story. God bless all those involved.
Portia. You’re comment didn’t disappear! (the second comment you left, which I deldeted)It just looks like because of how these
silly comment things work. I wish people could just post and there it would appear, but instead you have to go
through rigamaroll. Sorry. I loved your comment here, especially about praying God’s own words back to Him. Dave
and I actually wrote a series books doing that (they’re listed under my bio tab, if you want to look). I agree that
it is a powerful idea to borrow from Scripture. I hope you’ll keep reading, Portia.
I believe as “church” especially in America, we have reduced God to a dispenser of blessings; expecting our wants to be doled out if we insert the right amount of prayer. How sad for us that we no longer see the Savior, Jesus who is able to do miracles. We are each a miracle and the only “Happily ever after” promised is Heaven!!
Heather, Thanks for being transparent and revealing Christ. =}
Thanks so much, Kristy. I agree that we have a problem with entitlement. I know I do. It’s so easy to
wake up and assume that I deserve this or that. In recovery I am learning so much about gratitude. Which
helps keep that other stuff–expectation of blessings–at bay. Hope to see here you again.
Hey Heather, this is one of the most insightful, powerful and honest looks at trusting in God that I have ever seen. It honestly gets to the heart of what it is (and how difficult it can be,) to have faith. I think, (with your blessing,) that I am going to use this in my sermon for Sunday, (giving you full citation, of course.) Thank you for your Spirit filled words.
Absolutely you have my blessing. Thank you so much for your words. I am so hoping that this piece helps some
people. It’s one of my favorite things about God–how He can take one person’s pain and mess and use it to
help others. I often want to tell people I’m not in recovery, I’m in redemption, which goes much further. I know
you understand. Hope you keep coming back. I post on mwf like clockwork. H
Love your blog!
Thanks so much, Krysten. Thanks for commenting. Every one counts.
Heather,
God just shared your blog with me for the first time today, through a family members Facebook post. He gives us things when we are ready to hear them, I think. I am working on this kind of faithful surrender in my own life, and it is hard. I am constantly praying for outcomes. God has proved his faithfulness to me over and over, yet I so often still want Him to bend to my will and my want rather than surrendering to His. Without the hard times in my life I would not be where I am today on my walk with the Lord, and I see His work in me through that as a gift… but that is on a good day. Thank you for sharing this with us so that we can grow with you, and so that we can pray with you.
I started a blog in September about my walk, and in fear, I stopped posting. What would people comment? What would the enemy do with my words placed out so openly? What would he say back to me and could I handle it? 2 Corinthians 6:14 scared me away from it. 14 Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness? Yet your words and honesty show me that God lives with those who speak His truth, and that is why I am here… I know I am being guided and your words show me yet again how.
I am currently learning about fellowship and the importance of being with others in faith and in the Word. I struggle with it so much. Your honesty here is frightening but so very encouraging, and for this I am grateful. I hope that, one day, I am able to reach others with God’s promise the way you have reached me. These verses come to me often lately, and did so again today as I read this post. 8 But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, having put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. 9 For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, 10 who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him. 11 Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing. (1 Thessalonians 5:8-11)
I resonated with your thought “he probably wouldn’t be where he is today if he hadn’t hit that terrible “bottom” I had been begging God to save him from.” So true. We all want to get to heaven but no one wants to die to get there. I see this in my own desperate plea to be saved from that bottom and for those I love to be spared from their own. I have struggled openly about my own prayer life and the battle it can be, daily, between what I want to say and what God wants to hear. Your words here remind me that God has His own time, and His own reasons, and true faith is not just understanding that, but accepting it as well.
Glory to God for the work He is doing in your life and in your son’s life. We pray for Kim and her son, that His will be done, and that there is salvation through it. His blessings to you.
Amy, I just had my quiet time here and then your comment was the first thing I read this morning. I am so
blessed to have you as a reader. Your words here are wonderful gifts to me. I relate to so much of what you
say here! I was just thinking this morning about how strange and scary this blogging thing is. And how hard it is
for me to put myself out there. I have a whole new level of respect for anyone who blogs. I had no idea. And I continue
to struggle with the challenge of deciding if I want to write in the moment without a bunch of editing or
if I want to write with intention about things that matter to me and might matter to someone else. I’m sure I’ll probably
find a balance. Or maybe I’ll start a raw page, where I talk like I am here. Frankly and unedited. It would be good for
me, even if no one reads it, because it forces you to live in the now. I have always been a journaler, but I also used to
do a column, so both formats appeal to me. Anyway, see, I’m making it all about me! And that’s the risk you take when you blog, huh?
I so so hope that you get back to blogging. I love your heart and your way of talking. I love the verse you quoted and I
agree that God leads us to connect with certain people at certain times. I just want you to know that I needed to hear from
you this morning. I hope you’ll keep reading. I love your line: We all want to get to heaven but no one wants to die to get there.
So true. Thanks so much for keeping Kim in your prayers. Her son’s name is Justin. She would not mind my telling you that. Thanks
again for blessing me this morning.
This is amazing. Today, I am celebrating 6 years of sobriety myself. My only regret is my mother died 6 months too soon to see it. (Of an overdose, go figure)
Your words really resonate with me. The rock bottom, the hollow prayer, the constant battle of if God can answer my prayers, since I was a drunk/addict/methhead whatever.
Thank you for these words and this honesty. And congratulations to your son! (And you) Sobriety isn’t always easy, but it really is always worth it.
Andy, thanks so much for this. How sad about your mom, but how awesome that you have been sober so long. I only
have 4 1/2 years. But what a difference even a single week makes, huh? I am so thrilled to have a reader in recovery. I
hope you keep coming back.
This is deep. And so real. Thank you.
Thanks, Bernard. I like your site, by the way! Cool. Let’s keep in touch.
Thank you so much for sharing this bit of dangerous, free, gritty faith. In the past 10 days or so, two families for whom I care deeply have lost adult daughters in unexpected and horrifying ways that have left me stuck on the “why, why, why” question and some others struggling with rage at God. I think you’ve nailed it here, and it seems to me that only someone in a real relationship with God can find the courage (and more importantly the grace) to step into what you’ve mentioned here – it’s a place that doesn’t hold the illusion of safety that circumstantial peace offers us. I’ll be bookmarking this one and sharing it LOUDLY.
Karen, I can’t tell you how much your comment means to me. The response to this particular post
just blew me away and continues to astonish me. But it shouldn’t surprise me at all. So many people
are hurting out there. So many lost lives and destroyed dreams. It’s amazing what has come to pass as
normal for our entire society–we’ve come to take death to drugs and alcohol almost in stride. I am
so glad you’re sharing this piece and letting God use you that way. What a gift. Keep coming back, friend.
beautiful words…
Thanks, Roy. Really, those two words are beautiful words to any writer’s ear.
Great post and great comments, though I didn’t read them all. I’m in the same boat as you, Heather, and share several of the agonies you share. You didn’t really post about your pain itself, though, so much as the God Who allows it. Amen.
I’m on that journey with you.
Here are the best answers I’ve found so far, and they’re subject to change constantly.
Faith is not in a deliverance, but in the trustworthiness of One Who made us a promise. He promised He wants the best for us. He promised to wipe away our tears. He promised to live with us in a relationship of love. He proved His character by suffering for us and by suffering with us. And then He let evil into the world.
I, like you, no longer have faith for any particular deliverance. When I see the long-delayed deliverance of favored children like Joseph and Jeremiah and even Moses who never entered the promised land, and when I see the non-deliverance when the Son died, I can’t trust He’ll deliver me at all, much less on any schedule. But when I see the joy they all attained, some of it here but the whole of it with God, then I can believe God keeps the promises He’s made.
I hope that comes off as being said by someone who’s cried for deliverance, and not someone who’s run scripture through Le Machine and printed out an answer. My gut aches with the pain still, but at least my “hoper” is no longer broken trying to explain away God’s failures to answer my prayers.
We brace ourselves for the worst with our wanderers, and bust our tails trying to help them all we can. And we press ourselves under the wings and into the breasts of the One Who’s promised to love us well, wondering all along what that will look like. Faith can do that with hope.
Lord bless, Heather.
Kevin, what a wonderful and profound and response. It really meant so much to me, but even better
I know that other readers will benefit too. I’m still getting a lot of response to this blog days later
and despite it going into the previous blog file. Many, many hurting parents out there. You must be a writer.
I’m going to check you out. (Wait! That didn’t sound right). Anyway, there so much here to chew on.
Now I see why bloggers love to blog. I’m fairly new to it, but loving it so much already (except for when I’m dreading it).
Homerun. Taking all of the superstition out of what has turned into a very superstitious religion, this leads us back to the place of Jesus simply saying to Peter (and to us), “Don’t let your heart be troubled, but trust in God and also in me.”
Thanks, Brian. Love your comment. I’m going to be thinking about that today. It has turned into
a superstitious religion. I bet a long of people would be stopped by the truth of that statement. I
love having readers you like you talk back to me. Thanks.
Heather, I’m in tears as I read your story, which is so much my story (your Noah is my David – now two years sober and off the streets). I almost didn’t want to read a story called “God can’t be trusted” because I’ve also learned the long and difficult way that He can be (for what seems better or worse.) It’s hard to watch others just beginning that painful journey of discovery. I’m grateful that you expressed so beautifully that once you finally let go of how you think it needs to go, only then can you really trust. I wish I had read this when I was busy doing calisthenics to make God do my will, but I’m convinced there are MANY others who will find your story while they’re in the trenches and will gain back some hope from seeing themselves in you.
My dear friend Kathy Escobar reposted on fb and helped me to find you.
Thanks to you and Noah for living out loud.
Debbie, thanks so much for writing! I’m so glad Kathy reposted this and you found it. I am
so honored to hear from you. So happy for your David! I didn’t have space to write about it in
the blog, but after Noah got sober, I continued to worry and fret SO much. I just couldn’t believe
that it would last. It was ridiculous. I had to learn that my hope or faith was not in his unbroken
sobriety, or for that matter, my own. Four years later and I think I’m starting to relax. Noah was
by here this morning and when I told him that his story had touched so many people–more than 2,500
hits on a blog that’s as new as mine is a lot–he was touched, I could tell. Don’t you love the way
redemption works? Amazing. I hope you’ll keep reading me, Debbie. I won’t always talk about recovery or
addiction but so much of life is touched in some way by those things that it comes up a lot. Sorry
to go on so long. Bless you.
Very moving Heather! Thank you so much fro sharing. I struggle with unanswered prayer for my own pain and for my wife’s disability. Your words were like a soothing balm for me today. Thanks!
Thanks so much, Bob. I missed your comment first time. I’ll always remember you now as the first guy to find my Raw page. Ha. Did you try it out?
I did try it out for a few days Heather but didn’t feel comfortable with the forum at this time. Hope that I get there though.
Hope you don’t mind that I shared a passage from this post today (with a link back here) on my blog. I have several readers that are hurting and need to hear your message.
Blessings, Bob
Hey Bob! Thanks for the honor. I am so okay with that, more than okay. I love that you are reading. I
would love to hear a man’s perspective on today’s post about my husband is a sin dog.
Thanks for sharing your story about “letting go and letting God…totally and completely!” I finally came to the same conclusion, it truly is a total surrender and then God gets the glory….not me! I think that’s one of the underlying issues when we have kids. Being parents
Teri, thanks for your response here. It really does come down to surrender, you’re right. And I
think that might be part of why the next blog mentioned surrender, too. It’s at the core of so
much. I hope you’ll keep reading and talking back to me! H
Love your blog!
kredyty gotowkowe
A friend forwarded me your blog and it was amazing to read how well you expressed your experience with your son and how much I can identify. It was even more meaningful because I know you from working at Multnomah. I sit here crying and feeling numb over our situation with our son. After 3 yrs of rescuing and believing we were helping him because we wanted so much for him to be a father to his children (3 kids who live with us). A few days ago we left him in ER after being released from jail, knowing he had no option but go to a shelter. Even at 36 yrs old it was so hard to walk away knowing he has nothing, no phone, no clothes, no medications, no one, but it was time to let go and let God do the work that needs to be done. Not hearing from him or knowing where he is has been so difficult and I find myself waiting for the news of his death. Even though there are feelings of anger, disappointment, and resentment I can’t stop the tears. the heartache, or the sadness I feel. I have moments of peace which I cling to but obviously have a ways to go before accepting that God knows the situation and will carry us through whatever the outcome.
Thanks for your encouragement to “place my son and all my hope in the hands of God…”
Charlotte, not sure if you signed up for follow up comments, but I wanted to thank you for this very moving and sad response. My heart absolutely breaks for you. I can’t imagine. I never had to go quite this far with Noah and I can’t imagine having to do what you did. I think about your son almost every day since i got this post. I ached so much for you that I didn’t answer it right away and then it occurred to me that I never did! And it was by far the most intense and important comment I got on that post. Dave and I are both praying for your son and begging God on your behalf. Thanks for sharing so openly with me. I do remember you! And of course Dave does too. You are in our prayers and we’d love to hear updates, good or sad. Heather
Wow, Heather, you hit me where I live with this one. I read it the day you posted, but I had to let it cool a bit before I could comment.
“Because God can’t be trusted to deliver a particular outcome. He can only be trusted with, or in spite of, any outcome. He can only be trusted no matter what.”
For me, it’s not so much about children or addiction as it is losing people I love. My dad died when I was 16, and my step-mom committed suicide three years later. But instead of turning toward God, I turned away from Him. It was 13 years before I came slinking back, trembling with fear in spite of His persistent, audacious, creative wooing of me. In the years since then, I have still struggled with the fear of losing those I love. He’s teaching me to turn toward Him, to trust Him “no matter what,” but boy, am I a dull student!
Thank you for yet another great post.
Lisa, yeah, that was a heavy post. I was stunned by the response and I got some heartrending feedback. And yes, I agree it really isn’t about just kids, it’s about everything. This post got passed around literally thousands of times I think because we feel this crisis so keenly when it comes to someone we love. It’s the pinnacle of angst in a way. Anyway, I’m so so glad you got something from it. Hope you’ll come back.
I find myself often in prayer saying things to God like, “Please help keep (son) on the right path. Please help him to remember to keep working at his recovery. Be with him.”….and then I stop and listen to myself and finish up my prayers with, “Oh yeah, I forgot that I’m not in charge here…YOU are. Woops! You know what to do. You certainly don’t need any direction from me. Thank you for all you do for me and my family.”
It took awhile to surrender my will, but WOW it is SO freeing to know that God has my son covered…in all his good, bad and magnificent glory.
Wow, thanks for sharing. Boy those words Notmyboy just go straight to my heart. Thanks so much for reading and
commenting here. Hope we’ll connect again.
My son became addicted to heroin at age 17. I’d been praying for him since the day he was born. I was a faithful Believer for many years. I didn’t stop believing because God didn’t answer my prayers for my son, but it did play into all the other reasons I walked away from the Christian faith. My son is now 21. Today – he’s not using. I don’t know about tomorrow.
Barbara, I’m so sorry about your son. Wow, that post was really for you. I am so glad
to hear about your son not using today. That’s all we get. One day at a time. I’m so
glad you commented here.
Thank you so much for writing this. I have been struggling with this exact thing today! Prayer is the one thing I struggle with more than anything, in my walk. I keep remembering that Jesus taught us to pray, and so many people in the Bible prayed it HAS to mean something.
My heart breaks for Kim and her son. I have a cousin, also in Oregon – I’m in Oregon – who is a heroine addict. I pray for him. I appreciate the reminder that we have to trust that they are in God’s hands, just as we are/were. I had to walk away from my dad for 10 years because he was an abusive alcoholic. We got four sober months before he died. Four months where he came to know the Lord and was baptized the day before he died. God’s active miracle will never be forgotten. Thank you for being so honest. It’s refreshing!
I loved this story! It just confirms that God knows exactly what is going on and it is up to that person who needs His help to ask for it. All we can do is hand if over to Him. I’ve had many different types of upheavel in my life and my faith was not always strong. God was there though, guiding….we just have to “listen” and “see” what road to take and then really give it our all. I am so very glad your son is doing well. It’s very difficult to watch your children learn about life the hard way…but it’s good in the end if a lesson is learned and it’s helping them. I love to read your blogs….they’re so real and down to earth….very sharable
Wow-you put into words the things that are inside my head all the time!
I think I get confused about prayer because I listen to what other people say instead of what God says to me in my heart. It would be great if there was a “method” we could all use to get our prayers answered the way we want them answered and in the time we want them answered! If you get 400 hundred people to pray, God will answer your prayers. If you pray every morning before you get out of bed, God will answer your prayers. If you fast, God will answer your prayers. If you read your bible every day, God will answer your prayers.
I was even told once that God doesn’t work in anyone’s life unless someone prays and asks for God’s intervention-such a burden-I would walk by people and say a prayer for them in case no one else was praying for them. Then I would think what a great Christian I am for praying for all of these people! I don’t believe this to be true-like you said-God isn’t a puppet waiting for US to pull the strings!
I raised my kids in the church-thinking surely my kids would grow to be wonderful Christians because I was doing a much better job of teaching them and raising them and praying for them than my parents did. But I have watched in anguish as my kids have gone stumbling down some of the same paths of destruction as my husband and I did. WHY? Other peoples kids have made good choices and aren’t heading down broken paths…why are mine? What did those other parents do right, and what did I do wrong?
I have to remember every day that God isn’t done with them yet-he’s not done with me yet!
Thanks for your thought provoking blogs-
Heather, I work with an organization called Christian Women’s Resource network and am wondering if we can have your permission to repost this as a guest post on our site, http://www.cwrn.org Thanks, Linda
Linda, absolutely. Thanks so much for asking. I hope it’s helpful to some of your readers. Blessings, Heather
Love your blog!
Love your blog!
Hi Heather, I’ve just found your blog.
Your words describe me perfectly:
“For many years, a critical part of my faith hinged on the idea that my prayers would influence God to intervene in the world on behalf of those I love. If I just prayed hard enough, often enough, and made sure to throw in plenty of thanksgivings before and after, God would come through.
…
When He didn’t, I pretended not to notice, maybe because it felt awkward and embarrassing to point out to God how much He had let me down.
Or I told myself that God had declined to do my will for good and loving reasons I might understand later.
Or I told myself that I just hadn’t prayed with enough faith and fervor to move God to act on my behalf. ”
It is so confusing. I have a son who was born with a heart defect. He lived for 9 weeks. 9 weeks of fervent prayer by everyone who knew him. And God did not heal him.
I stopped praying that day. Before that I prayed all the time, convinced that God wanted to hear my prayers. Convinced that if it was something in his will, that he would answer. And how could healing a baby not be his will?
It has taken four years to get to the point that you talk about here. The point where I can still pray, even if I don’t have assurances of answers. I know that sounds childish, as though I wouldn’t pray unless I could control God’s answers, but it felt like such a betrayal. Like finding out someone you thought you knew is really a very different person than you expected. And possibly a much less of a good person.
It is humbling how little we understand God. But, like your Jelly Bean post I now have very few beans in my hand. They are simple beans and they put me in a place where I feel that I can begin to work on learning about a God that I thought I knew my entire life.
Janice, I’m so glad you found my blog. Welcome! I hope you’ll poke around some. I love connecting with new people and I’m so glad you found that particular post helpful. A lot of people did, not because it’s great writing but because so many people relate to the anguish I describe. I hope I’ll hear from you again. Although, I’m not sure if you noticed, but it’s been a very interesting few days on my blog in the commments section. It’s not always like this.
H
What a wonderful post! I have to say that I have had to come to the same conclusion about trusting God for all things (though you say it so eloquently!) The -trust no matter what, being a dagger to the heart- I had to learn that with my son’s as well. I wish I had words to express how blessed I feel to come upon someone who is expressing my very thoughts (again, you do it so much more eloquently!). God taught me so much through that very dark time with our sons and He has been faithful through it all- right along side weeping with me, rejoicing with me, admonishing me, smiling at me….
Now I am working with women who are/have been incarcerated and many of them are addicts, I never thought I would work with addicts because I didn’t share any of their experiences, but God has me here and it’s a new place to trust Him with ALL things, because it is a heartbreaking ministry because I love them and hate to see the tremendous struggle they go through. And now your wonderful blog is yet another encouragement and even a tool (if I may share your blog postings with them).
I often tell women, that God has put in my life, that they don’t have to pretend that they are not frustrated, angry or scared…that their feelings are legitimate and they can take them to God and rail at Him or cry out miserably to Him that He is big enough for it all, But eventually, they need to listen for His take on the situation and to trust Him in all things and realize that circumstances may not change but He promises to be with us through all things, even in the dagger to the heart times!
I am now receiving your blog in my email and look forward to reading more from your heart… and maybe we’ll get to have some conversations.
Joy, you have such an amazing ministry. So cool. And yes, you can share anything I write with anyone. I am so honored that you are reading and I love hearing from someone who is surprised to find herself working with addicts. We’re a heartbreaking bunch at times, but also you get to see real miracles. I would love to have conversations with you. Feel free to email anytime. Or talk to me here, too! So glad we “met.”:) H
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