I close my eyes.

I “Like” comments and “Share” pictures on FaceBook; I even make comments (imagine that), but the readers have no clue as to my real emotions.  Nor will they.

But I will take the liberty, on my own blog, to say that I could not hurt more if I was strapped to a pole and flogged.  At least then, the pain on the outside would match the pain in my heart.

I am at a loss, clueless, to know or understand why this heartache is a reality. And clueless to know what to do.  In all of my 63 years, I can’t recall ever hurting like this.

But this morning, a thought came to me:::

How can I persevere until the end if I have not suffered through trials, troubles, temptations and heartaches that hit me where it hurts the most? 

How can God say, “Well done, faithful servant,” if I haven’t persevered through the pain and continued to praise and trust Him; continued to obey His call and ministered encouragement and salvation to all He invites me to?

It has never occurred to me to throw up my hands and quit, but I suppose I could choose to do that.  I have, however, wanted to and considered crawling in a hole, at least for a while. Or staying in bed all day.  But I haven’t and I won’t.  Where this old girl is concerned, there is no victory for the devil.  God is my Strength and Shield and He is much greater than anything Satan can fire at me.  Bitterness is not even remotely an option for me.  I have nothing but love, grace, longing and forgiveness in my heart…. and my hands are tied.  I’m frozen.  I don’t know what to do.  But that’s ok.  God knows what to do.

Waves of grief wash over me at times and I can’t find air to breathe. I don’t know all of the answers. But I do know Jesus' promise: "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand" (John 10:27-28). And air comes to me again.

I believe God has shown me at least one reason that I can be thankful in the midst of this pain.  I certainly long to see Jesus and hear Him say, “Well done, faithful servant.”

Are you suffering through something?

Does this help just a little?

I heard someone I respect very much say one time: “In the midst of my heartache, I closed my eyes and mentally went to my most peaceful and favorite spot and sat there in the sun by that cool brook for a long time.  Then I looked up and saw a figure walking toward me from the horizon.  I got up and watched him.  When I recognized the man in the white robe and outstretched arms, I started running to Him and did not stop until He wrapped His arms around me as I wept uncontrollably.  No words were needed.  My sobs subsided as I noticed scars in his feet.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a table with a big box and beautiful bows laying on it.  I walked over to the table and gently placed the “cause of my pain” in one of the boxes and placed a bow on it.  Picking up the box, I carefully carried it (it was heavy in more ways than one) over to Jesus and He held out His nail scarred hands and I placed the box in His hands.  His smile gave me comfort and hope and courage, for I knew He would take care of my gift box with the beautiful bow.”