Hear my cry, O God;
Give heed to my prayer.
From the end of the earth I call to You when my heart is faint;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
Psalm 61:1,2

Helpless.

I left my cleaning job with tears still glistening in my eyes. I had accidentally knocked over a small lamp and broken the glass shade and, while the homeowners were not upset, I had quietly fallen apart as I finished cleaning their basement. I felt every bit as broken as that glass. As I began the descent down their long and winding lane, I pondered the heartaches and trials of these last months and asked the Lord for insight.

Lord, I can’t take much more … I don’t know what to do.

By the time I had reached the bottom of that lane, the Lord had walked me through what seemed a lifetime of grief and, to my surprise, one word stood out among the rest …

Helpless.

Oh Lord, yes, I do feel … helpless.

While I am not sure I would have thought of that word myself to describe my life situation, I can’t deny that it is true. I have felt a sense of helplessness for so long, constantly adjusting and adapting to life situations that felt well beyond my control. Always longing for the day that it would be okay. Hoping that if I just hang on … if I just do whatever it is that I need to do … some day it would all work out.

But this last year has caused me to see the situations where I have longed to see change, may never change. There are situations that I cannot fix. There are people and relationships that are broken beyond anything that I can repair. In these last weeks, as I walked a heart-breaking path with my son, I have seen there are griefs much too deep to be shared.

I have had to acknowledge that, despite the longevity of many of these trials, it is very likely that I will not see see change or benefit from the fruit of years of labor this side of heaven. That sense of hope that always whispered in the darkest of days that, ‘Someday it will be okay. Someday it won’t be so hard.’ has been slowly flickering out like a candle deprived of air.

Yes, Lord … I am helpless.

How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever?
How long will You hide Your face from me?
How long shall I take counsel in my soul,
Having sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long will my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O Lord my God;
Enlighten my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,
And my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
And my adversaries will rejoice when I am shaken.
Psalm 13:1-4

How long?

This was the cry of my heart today as I reluctantly changed out of my church clothes this morning, just minutes after I had planned to leave. My son with autism has been in a place of up and down crisis for several weeks now and this morning, he was just not in a good place. It was not a battle worth fighting. It was not worth generating a greater storm inside of him. So I changed my clothes, while wiping away the steady flow of tears running down my face.

Forgotten.

Yes, I often do feel forgotten. Forgotten by God? Yes, sometimes. Overlooked. Left behind. Forgotten by those around me? Yes, sometimes that too. It is hard not to feel forgotten when your journey is one of significant isolation and difficulty and you watch others moving on while you toil endlessly in the same place.

Discouragement is real … even in a believer who is daily walking with the Lord. When the intense waves of the long-lasting storm are pummeling hard, constantly seeking to weaken and pull me down into the depths of the sea, it is hard not to grow weary. It is hard not to quit the fight and simply let go, slowly sinking into the despair of the depths.

I have no confidence in myself that I can withstand the storm.

But I have every confidence in the One who walks on water.

I can’t see the way in front of me nor do I know which way to go.

But I know, even though God seems silent right now, He will guide me which way to go … to the left or to the right.

But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness;
My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation.
 I will sing to the Lord,
Because He has dealt bountifully with me.
Psalm 13:5,6

Trust.

There is a lot about my life that I simply can’t understand right now and I am exhausted from many sleepless nights and a trial that has been much too heavy for me to bear alone. But I have trusted in the lovingkindness of the Lord before … and I will trust Him even in this. I will rejoice in the salvation of the Lord and I will sing … because He is good and He deals lovingly and bountifully with me.

I don’t have to understand the storm.

I just have to trust the One who leads me to the rock that is higher than I.

If the Lord had not been my help,
My soul would soon have dwelt in the abode of silence.
If I should say, “My foot has slipped,”
Your lovingkindness, O Lord, will hold me up.
When my anxious thoughts multiply within me,
Your consolations delight my soul.

But the Lord has been my stronghold,
And my God the rock of my refuge.
Psalm 94:17-19, 22