Grieving with hope often feels like an uphill battle, but most of the time, it’s because I’ve forgotten God’s most simple and persistent promises.
2 Corinthians 1:4
“[He] comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”
Matthew 5:4
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Matthew 11:28
“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”
He says He is with us (until the ends of the earth), but how often do I actually take this to heart?
More often than not, my abrupt response sounds more like this: “I’ve got this!”
First of all, I obviously don’t have this—at all!
Secondly, with each, “I got this!” I turn a little bit further away from God—the only one who can offer me true comfort. I turn my face directly away from Him and then search within for the strength from my already-depleted resources.
I am like the person who’s driving down the road only to realize she’s completely out of gas. My car sputters a few more feet and then fails completely. I get out and walk to the gas station at the next exit.
Guess what I do when I get my car to the next exit to fill the tank?
I keep going with another, “I got this!”
Sometimes, I forget what filling my tank actually looks like.
I also forget what truly sweet surrender sounds like: “God, I don’t have this, but I know you do. I’m going to turn this over to your hands now and breathe for the first time today. Here you go.”
Before I started walking through times of real loss and grief, I could get by on quick quiet time, a box checked at Sunday service, or a drive-by prayer. However, filling my tank in a time of grief feels different. I’ve found that to feel filled, I need to sit patiently at the base of the water fountain until my cup begins to overflow.
Just like being unique in our grief, God has made us unique in the beauty of how He fills us. There is a trio of women I enjoy reflecting on for their truly unique methods of allowing God to fill them for the gargantuan tasks ahead.
St. Teresa of Calcutta famously led the order of “The Missionaries of Charity” to spend two hours a day in prayer (one at sunrise and one at sunset). I can just imagine them hearing the cries of the people they would serve that day as they prayed. Obediently, they would stay and experience God’s love for them before they tried to expand their own love onto others.
Corrie Ten Boom would spend one day a week in bed with her bible, books, her prayers, and God. She would write, sleep, pray, and get nourished for the grueling schedule that was the other six days of the week in the height of her ministry (and well into her 70s). When other women were slowing down, it was as if her life began taking off. She took the time she needed to become a poured-out vessel, so God could fill her completely for all the tasks ahead.
Susanna Wesley, a mother to ten children including John and Charles Wesley, found a unique way of spending time with God in the midst of a very busy household. For up to two hours a day, she could be found in her favorite chair with a bible in hand and an apron over her head. Not only was she managing a large household, but she was also facing the difficulties her husband inflicted on himself and the family. Two times, their home was burnt down, most likely from angry people in Samuel Wesley’s parish.
In some ways, a ministry, mission, or difficult vocation can reflect the turmoil felt in the midst of grief. We are called out of our comfort zone and into a place that is unique. This, oftentimes, can be a bit scary. In those places, we can’t pretend we’re “just fine” walking ahead of God. Instead, we need God in each step.
Mother Teresa, Corrie ten Boom, and Susanna Wesley knew they did not have it in them to be the balm to the wounds to those around them. They knew that only Christ could be that. They knew, profoundly, that it was only in that space of one-on-one connection they would be filled to the point they could pour onto those around them.
God meets us in the quietness of our hearts. With our modern world being excessively loud, sometimes making real space for God in your life can feel extreme, but here is the truth:
Making time to be with God is not extreme—it’s essential.
Whether you are preparing to hold the hearts of others or bear your current sufferings with grace, we need to be filled to walk forward.
There is not much reinventing the wheel when it comes to creating the type of space that fills us. Instead, there’s a simple solution:
First, start with acknowledging God’s presence.
Second, ensure there is enough silence to be able to listen—truly listen.
Third, have the Word of God close by.
Fourth, create a space to respond with the outpouring of your heart.
We have to ensure that we create the time for God, not just give the time leftover.
This may seem insane, but it’s similar to Parkinson’s Law: Work will fill the time we have made available for its completion. Making time for God works perfectly hand-in-hand with this strange (but true) phenomenon. Creating more time for God, and sometimes less time to do life’s other tasks, means that we need to trust that God will get done what needs to get done.
What does filling your empty tank look like today? When was the last time you sat at the fountain? What will it take for you to truly surrender and feel God’s comfort?