Wednesday, May 13, 2015

When my heart hurts too much.

Our world is terribly, horribly, sadly, broken. When I see pictures of burned and dying tiny children after terror attacks, or hear of babies martyred by ISIS, or kids and teens and young people sold into sexual slavery, or the vulnerable in our world being hurt- beaten, abused, starved, ridiculed, tortured, neglected- by people who should be protecting and loving them- when I hear and see these things, I don't know how to deal with it. It breaks and hurts me so deeply in my tender, young, mother's heart, that I actually struggle to breathe through the pain.  And I'm just thinking about these others' hurt.  I've always been sensitive to others, but after having a baby of my own, every hurting baby, child, youth, and young adult is my own daughter.  And I sob over them.  

For awhile, when I first became overwhelmed with these emotions, I tried to hide from them.  I refused to visit Facebook or news sites when the stories of ISIS murdering children began to circulate. I avoided looking at or clicking on any links related to ISIS. I felt paralyzed by fear and pain and helplessness and hurt. I couldn't stand to read these sad, sad things, when I could do little to nothing to help them.

Then one day, my husband asks, "What would you really ask a genie for, if it was real, and you got one wish?" And I thought for maybe 0.00000001 milliseconds.  If you don't teach 5th grade math, that's a reeeeeeeaaaaaallllllly small fraction of one second.

"I'd ask it to place a magical charm of protection against all children, youth, or vulnerable, weak people, to protect them from physical, sexual, mental, psychological, or spiritual harm." 

Tyler stated that he thought he'd ask the genie not to ever give any more wishes, since if a genie truly existed in our world, it'd be altering reality with a power outside of God's, which would make it demonic in nature.  And that, friends, is not the tip of the iceberg on how analytical Mr. Tyler P. Entrekin can be. 

But it got me thinking, why don't I ask God more fervently to use His power on behalf of these little ones and hurting ones?

So now, I'm trying not to shy away from the stories of the hurting.  I'm trying to be brave, and allow myself to hear, see, and experience the pain of others.  If God gave me the gift of compassion, I should not hide from feeling.  And then, I'm praying. 

I'm praying for God to protect the children who are in abusive homes, the children who are sold into slavery, the children who have no home, the children who are hurt, beaten, starving, and unloved. The children who are struggling, and depressed, and downtrodden, and scared, and helpless. I'm praying for Him to right wrongs that I am nowhere physically near to, but that I itch to fix.  I'm begging Him to stay the hands of those who are so sick and so far gone into the black of sin that they can hurt children.  I'm pleading that He be the Protector, the Father, the Provider, the Safety, the Healing, the Love, the Comfort, for the young and frail ones in this world who need Him.  And I'm clinging to the promises that He hears my prayers, and that He listens when we ask in His name.  

Romans 12: 6, 8, 21
“6 Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them... the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.  21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

John 15:7
“7 If  you abide in me, and my words abide in you,  ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you”

Excerpt From: Crossway. “ESV Classic Reference Bible.” Crossway. iBooks. 
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