When Happy Places Become Hurting Places
Last Sunday, very quickly, I came down with some violent fashion of a stomach bug. Hours later, just before I was going to attempt to snuggle up in my super comfortable bed and fall asleep, Walker started with it too. It began for him in such a way that demanded he and Will vacate their bed.
We drug a twin mattress into the living room for Walker and moved Will to our bed to sleep with Cliff. In an attempt to isolate the sickness, we decided I would sleep on the couch right next to Walker's make shift bed on the floor.
That night, my head laid directly in the spot I call "my happy place" in our home. Next to it sits an end table where my Bible, journal and current study find their home. I sit there, sipping my coffee, spending time with my Lord under the illumination of one of my favorite lamps as the morning rays shining in on me. Usually, I curl up under my pink bunny blanket my daddy gave me as a little girl and the dog snuggles up beside me. I love this place. A lot of times, I'm alone there as others still slumber, but sometimes a tiny human will come and snuggle next to me as well. Many heartfelt prayers have gone up from that place, the Lord has taught me so much sitting there and has dealt with me so personally on many occasions in that very spot. When it's vacant and I walk by it, just a glance of it will fill me with such peace. By every sense of the word, it is my happy place.
This particular night though, I was feeling anything but happy, there in my happy place. I felt like death, miserable, in much pain, weak and worn down. The night was long, and each time I had to get up and make my way to the restroom, I was greatly aware of my waning strength. This was the most miserable I've been in my happy place. That night, my happy place had very much been my hurting place. The irony of this didn't dawn on me until a few days later, when I began to feel life being breathed back into my weakened stature, and my strength was restored. I chuckled to myself and thought "Well, that wasn't very happy..."
This happens sometimes, doesn't it? Our happy places become our hurting places. We receive an undesirable diagnosis, we lose a job we love, a treasured friendship fades, death claims a loved one too soon, a spouse betrays, a pregnancy ends in a way we didn't anticipate or desire, precious children grow to make decisions that are harmful to them, other people's words and actions wound us, our own actions and choices yield consequences that cause discomfort all leaving us hurting in a place that was once so happy.
Tucked inside the gospel of Luke, we find the story of a widow with but one son. Her husband had passed, we aren't quite sure how or when, but Scripture tells us she had only one son. As the scene opens, we learn that her one son, surely her pride and joy-her happy place amidst the season of grieving and loss of his father, has died. To say the least, she is heartbroken. Luke tells us that when Jesus saw her, His heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry." What once brought her so much happiness, was now a place of hurting for her. Her only son, now gone.
I love how Scripture records the emotion Jesus felt for her, that His heart went out for her. He didn't just come in, do his thing and move on, but He hurt with her and with his words He offered her comfort and compassion. It's not clear whether they had any other interaction, but from personal experience, I imagine he probably wrapped her in a loving embrace and held her there in those desperate, unimaginable moments that follow a mother losing a child.
After this, Jesus went over and touched the coffin and said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" and the dead child rose and began to talk as Jesus gave him back to his mother. Can't you just imagine this scene? A mother, once broken now filled with joy. Tears that once fell in heartbreak, flooding with happiness and healing. I can't imagine she kept her composure very well. I picture her, on her face at His feet, praising Him for breathing life back into her child's body and her own heart.
I love how Jesus swoops in with authority and commands the dead to rise. Tragedy had struck and heartbreak had come, but so had Jesus. Jesus came. He came first as comforter and peace, and then revealed Himself as healer and restorer of life.
Those who observed this were filled with awe and praised God. "God has come to help his people," they said, and word of what happened spread throughout their country.
Like the widow who lost her son, our happy places sometimes turn in to our hurting places. The very things that bring us joy, can turn without warning into things that cause pain and heartbreak in our lives. I've been there, and I've survived it, only by the comfort and peace of my Jesus. When we find ourselves in those hurting places, may we look for Jesus, may we wait on Him, and find Him in the waiting. Lean in to Him, let Him carry your pain, and watch Him provide healing for your life and heart. He is the restorer of life.
"Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself the Lord is my portion, therefore I will wait on Him." Lamentations 3:22-24
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
We drug a twin mattress into the living room for Walker and moved Will to our bed to sleep with Cliff. In an attempt to isolate the sickness, we decided I would sleep on the couch right next to Walker's make shift bed on the floor.
That night, my head laid directly in the spot I call "my happy place" in our home. Next to it sits an end table where my Bible, journal and current study find their home. I sit there, sipping my coffee, spending time with my Lord under the illumination of one of my favorite lamps as the morning rays shining in on me. Usually, I curl up under my pink bunny blanket my daddy gave me as a little girl and the dog snuggles up beside me. I love this place. A lot of times, I'm alone there as others still slumber, but sometimes a tiny human will come and snuggle next to me as well. Many heartfelt prayers have gone up from that place, the Lord has taught me so much sitting there and has dealt with me so personally on many occasions in that very spot. When it's vacant and I walk by it, just a glance of it will fill me with such peace. By every sense of the word, it is my happy place.
This particular night though, I was feeling anything but happy, there in my happy place. I felt like death, miserable, in much pain, weak and worn down. The night was long, and each time I had to get up and make my way to the restroom, I was greatly aware of my waning strength. This was the most miserable I've been in my happy place. That night, my happy place had very much been my hurting place. The irony of this didn't dawn on me until a few days later, when I began to feel life being breathed back into my weakened stature, and my strength was restored. I chuckled to myself and thought "Well, that wasn't very happy..."
This happens sometimes, doesn't it? Our happy places become our hurting places. We receive an undesirable diagnosis, we lose a job we love, a treasured friendship fades, death claims a loved one too soon, a spouse betrays, a pregnancy ends in a way we didn't anticipate or desire, precious children grow to make decisions that are harmful to them, other people's words and actions wound us, our own actions and choices yield consequences that cause discomfort all leaving us hurting in a place that was once so happy.
Tucked inside the gospel of Luke, we find the story of a widow with but one son. Her husband had passed, we aren't quite sure how or when, but Scripture tells us she had only one son. As the scene opens, we learn that her one son, surely her pride and joy-her happy place amidst the season of grieving and loss of his father, has died. To say the least, she is heartbroken. Luke tells us that when Jesus saw her, His heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry." What once brought her so much happiness, was now a place of hurting for her. Her only son, now gone.
I love how Scripture records the emotion Jesus felt for her, that His heart went out for her. He didn't just come in, do his thing and move on, but He hurt with her and with his words He offered her comfort and compassion. It's not clear whether they had any other interaction, but from personal experience, I imagine he probably wrapped her in a loving embrace and held her there in those desperate, unimaginable moments that follow a mother losing a child.
After this, Jesus went over and touched the coffin and said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" and the dead child rose and began to talk as Jesus gave him back to his mother. Can't you just imagine this scene? A mother, once broken now filled with joy. Tears that once fell in heartbreak, flooding with happiness and healing. I can't imagine she kept her composure very well. I picture her, on her face at His feet, praising Him for breathing life back into her child's body and her own heart.
I love how Jesus swoops in with authority and commands the dead to rise. Tragedy had struck and heartbreak had come, but so had Jesus. Jesus came. He came first as comforter and peace, and then revealed Himself as healer and restorer of life.
Those who observed this were filled with awe and praised God. "God has come to help his people," they said, and word of what happened spread throughout their country.
Like the widow who lost her son, our happy places sometimes turn in to our hurting places. The very things that bring us joy, can turn without warning into things that cause pain and heartbreak in our lives. I've been there, and I've survived it, only by the comfort and peace of my Jesus. When we find ourselves in those hurting places, may we look for Jesus, may we wait on Him, and find Him in the waiting. Lean in to Him, let Him carry your pain, and watch Him provide healing for your life and heart. He is the restorer of life.
"Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. I say to myself the Lord is my portion, therefore I will wait on Him." Lamentations 3:22-24
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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