Lord, I’m a mess today.

Have you ever driven to church and wondered how you would make it through the service with any dignity left?

I have.

Driving there was difficult. My heart was crushed with sadness. A deep sadness. The kind of pain that leaves you at a loss for words. Really it just leaves you at a loss because you can’t even really acknowledge the depth of it. Or, you fear you won’t come back from it.

As I drove to church that Sunday morning my heart ached deeper than most days. Tears kept sneaking out of my eyes despite my best efforts to hold them back. I felt like a mess. A hot mess.

Such a mess that I couldn’t even muster the words for a prayer. Typically I can. Despite the hurt. I can, at least, whisper a plea for God to join me today in my moment and be my comfort. But this Sunday I couldn’t.

“Lord, I’m a mess today. In case you didn’t know. I am a mess.”

I could envision myself laying on my face across the altar sobbing. You know, the ugly cry.

Almost enough that I didn’t know if I should walk in right away. Or, sit in the parking lot making a feeble attempt to pull myself together.

What now…

So, there I sat. For a moment. Contemplating whether or not to walk in the building. I was a mess. My heart was a broken mess. And I struggled. Do I lay on the altar or sit in my pew. I don’t want the whole service to be about me and my mess.

But, my Jesus says, to come to me when you are weary and I will give you rest.

I needed rest.

Rest for my broken heart. Rest for my soul.

I made it in the building. Successfully made it through Sunday School without an awkward display of ugly crying. Even made it through worship praising instead of sobbing. Truth be told, I was pretty proud of how well I held myself together.

And then the sermon….

Oh my. His word is life. Every time we need it. Even when we don’t really want it.

I knew it was for me. As I cried quietly through the sermon I knew God made a way for me to get exactly what I needed from him. A face down sob on the altar of his feet so I could find rest.

I thought the preacher would never stop as I waited patiently for my crawl to the altar. Well, I walked but it felt like a crawl inside.

And I was ever so thankful. That my God made the way and I at least had enough sense about me to respond to his call. No words. Merely a cry from the depth of my chest out of the broken place I was in. He healed. He rested. Comforted. Answered. And reassured me that he was mourning with me as we walked this journey together.

Just what I needed to strengthen my spirit.

His Word, His Example.

This morning I was reading in Matthew 26. Jesus was in the garden awaiting the betrayal he knew was coming to fulfill the work of his crucifixion. Our redemption. My redemption.

I’ll paraphrase but this is what he said.

My soul is crushed with grief to the point of death. And I thought, oh my soul was crushed with grief. That is what the empty hollow deep ache in my chest where a heart once was felt like.

He said, keep alert and pray. Otherwise temptation will overpower you. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. And I thought, yes, keep alert and pray. Lay on my face at the altar while I pour out my grief to my heavenly Father. My flesh was weak and didn’t want to submit. But my spirit was willing and knew just what I needed. And without the prayer the temptation to withdraw would have overpowered me.

Friend, in your deepest times of grief, we must stay alert and pray. Our spirit is willing but our flesh is weak.

Jesus reminded me that he mourns with me. Even when I don’t know all that is to come he does. He gives me comfort, strength, rest, and reassurance. If only I will come to him in response to his call.

Be blessed. Bobbie