Taking the hand of the suffering Christ this Holy Week

As we approach Holy Week all I can think about is the magnitude of the miracle. 

A long time ago a group of followers walk with joy, Truth, and the hope of deliverance. Prophecies and last words were shared. Christ was welcomed with high praise in one moment and in the next deals of betrayal were made. Money was exchanged. The last meal was held and Jesus knelt to show the way of true leadership. Prayers were so intense they burst blood vessels in the head of our Lord. Capture was inevitable. Silent glances held more Truth than any words being spoken. Torture, mockery, abuse, and trial beyond our imagination became a game. The world became dark. All promises seemed to die. All hope faded. Astonishment, shock, and disbelief rocked the hearts of those who followed the Lamb. It seemed as if death had won. 

I am walking through this holy week in a new way this year. The magnitude of the miracle I need is baffling. At the start of the year I had so many hopes and dreams. My health was beginning to improve. I dreamed of another year of sowing into, praying for, growing and loving the ministry God has gifted me with stewarding. I got a new contract job which was not going to add much income but it would add something and more importantly led to a great connection. And then tragedy struck.

My landlord hired unqualified people to removed an underground oil tank at the property I have been renting for four years. They spilled multiple gallons of oil into the soil and our exposed cracked foundation. They did not remediate the oil correctly and now we are living in a house filled with oil fumes from top to bottom. Day by day things began being stolen ... my health, my safe place to live, clothing, appliances, possessions ... the list goes on. My roommate and I have been searching for a home for 8 weeks now. So many applications for homes have been submitted, many homes have been viewed and they have all led to nothing. The financial impact of my landlord's choices will likely affect me for years and years to come. But even worse than that we are still without a safe place to live. The days are growing dark. Gas-lighting, persecution, and betrayal have occurred. The loss is great. Promise feels far off. Fears of paying for a new amount of rent when my work has not increased and when my diminishing health affects the additional jobs I can acquire loom large. Even if we do get a new house - how will I pay my share? I am overwhelmed by the magnitude of the miracle needed. 

The most profound day of Holy Week for me is strangely enough Holy Saturday. It is a day of silence and solitude, of absence, of not gathering as the Body in the typical way. Somehow in North Carolina often the weather ends up being gloomy and rainy on that day. It is a day of mourning, waiting, and wondering. 

In my own life that is where I am - in Holy Saturday - the tragedy has already occurred - there is nothing we can do to change it. Hope feels far off. Being in this house right now is like being outside that tomb. Waiting for the miracle, wondering if it will come, asking all the questions, dealing with the shock ... and clinging to the hope that God is who He says He is. The miracle maker. 

In a day, hopefully not too far off, way will be made. The phone call will come. The door will open. New keys will be given to us. More work will come. A move will happen. The Perfect will come and set things right. And I will once again be safe to serve and safe to soar. 

The hardest part of this journey is being okay with that not being today ... 

Why do I do spiritual direction? Because if we are honest, much of our lives here on this earth are spent in Holy Saturday. In the in-betweens. In the waiting. In the journey. In the fasting and the prayer and the wondering. Transformation happens in these in-betweens. The holding out of hope and sitting with the magnitude of the miracle needed. 

Whether that is deliverance from an unsafe living environment, praying for family members to turn to God, escaping an abusive relationship, going through trial after trial battling a chronic illness, sitting with your suffering child ... whatever it is having someone journey with you and helping you find the flowers to gaze upon along the way is a great gift. 

If you are in a Holy Saturday season looking at the magnitude of the miracle you need, know that I am praying for you. You are not alone. Take the hand of our suffering Christ knowing that He is leading and guiding you to restoration and redemption. 

We hold onto hope of the day when we will get to sing Alleluia once again! May the Lamb receive the reward of His suffering. 

You can continue to  follow our journey to a safe home at: https://www.givesendgo.com/safetoserve