Lift Her Head

I saw a girl in worship last night. She wore a pink sweater and a black hat over her long brown hair. She cried through most of the songs, some of the sermon and couldn't seem to lift her head up. It seemed like a weight was on her and it wouldn't lift.

It touched me so deeply because I remember when I felt just that way, when every new song pricked my soul and truth was cascading over my lies, when I couldn't help but cry at my own helplessness and the almost unbelievable goodness of God.

I started praying that she would taste freedom. In the midst of my begging for God to give her joy, I remembered a quote that Jessica posted.

"If we could forget our sin then we could never testify of the goodness of God." Voddie Baucham

I would never be so thankful for where I am, if I didn't remember where I have been. Even though her discouragement made me heart ache, I realized it was a good thing. She was in the right place, staying in the truth, staying vulnerable with the One who can heal. Beth Moore says,

"If we continually offer up our broken hearts to God, he will be faithful to heal us."

I pray another prayer for you, sister in Christ.

Lift her head, Father, heal her, but never let her forget where she came from.

R<3

Listening to Leeland - Carried To The Table

342 a hat as yellow as a fluorescent marker

343 two brave brothers with flashlights who are more than willing - even excited - to check for mice under my bed

344 the deep, deep love of Jesus

345 my resident reminding me to come and pray for her

346 polka dot socks

347 going to bed early, resting my tired back and having a heart alive with thanksgiving

348 feeling the weight of the glorious words of Jesus while reading them aloud

349 Janette ikz's poem I Will Wait For You

350 times and seasons in my life being perfectly planned

351 hugging my mummy

352 plans and schemes of a dreaming nature