Psalm 34:17-18 When his people pray for help, he listens and rescues them from their troubles. The Lord is there to rescue all who are discouraged and have given up hope.
In the weeks following the death of my best friend, I wrote to my cousin. She knew what David meant to me, and I wanted a chance to share with someone else about him and about how I was feeling.
She wrote back to me, “Julie, I wish I had the words to help you. All I really know, though, is that when I have something like this that is so big there is really nothing else to do except give it to God.”
Give it to God?
I wanted to give it to God, but I didn’t know how. I kept looking outside of myself for God so that I could give it to Him. I even asked a few times, “How can I give this to you, God?” Nothing worked. I either didn’t know how to give it to Him or He wasn’t willing to take it.
We lived in an old farmhouse about ten miles outside of town. The land was beautiful, but the house itself left much to be desired. The inside, a strange layout, consisted of open rooms and open doorways with no actual doors in them. In fact, the only door inside the entire house belonged to the one bathroom. Fortunately, it had a lock on it.
I frequently took refuge there in my grief because I didn’t want my husband, Mark, and our kids to see me so sad. I would put on a happy face as best I could and then would lock myself in the bathroom for sometimes hours at a time sobbing in the bathtub or sitting on the side of it staring blankly at the tile wall.
One day, I locked myself in. I put the lid to the toilet down and sat there talking to David, talking to God, sobbing uncontrollably. I was at a loss and didn’t see how I could go on any more. There seemed to be no point in living. If David could die, David who was full of life and joy and love and fun, then what was the point? I could find no point in anything. I cried even harder. Rock bottom. I’ve heard that expression and in looking back at me on that day, I believe that’s where I had fallen. I hit rock bottom. There was no where else to go.
“God!” I cried out. “God, I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost. I’m so lost. I give this to you!”
In my despair, I sobbed and poured everything out, everything that I had been, everything I had become. No longer could I handle anything at all by myself. I no longer possessed the ability to control my feelings and stop grieving. There was no more pretense. With that deluge of emotion, I felt something new inside of me. Tiny, down deep within me, I felt it. Just a little. Hope. Peace. A minute niggling that seemed to assure me that everything would be okay. I would be okay.
In a storybook, everything would be perfect from that moment on. In my reality, things were still difficult. That little piece of hope, of God, though, allowed me to move forward. It gave me something to hang on to in my deepest despair.
Giving my grief to God didn’t come easily, but it did come. If you find yourself in a similar position, surrender yourself to Him. He loves you and is waiting to grant you peace, too.
Woman Praying Photo Source