We’ve all had those moments in our life when we’re ready to throw in the towel. We’ve prayed and prayed, fervently and with faith, for something or someone, to no avail. And we’ve all had those moments when God’s Spirit has burned within us so strongly, we just knew things were going to turn around, our loved ones were going to finally take that leap of faith, our house was going to sell, we were going to get that job. Whatever. But then the moment passes, and our loved ones are still headed down a different road, the house continues to sit, and the job we’ve worked so hard and long for is given to someone else. So what do we do? When is enough enough?
I’ve been on both sides of this coin many times. I have moments where my faith is so strong I’m ready to turn mountains into mole-hills and to command trees to uproot themselves and jump into the sea. But I’ve also had many moments, way more than I’d like to admit, where I’ve thrown my hands in the air with a scowl and a vehement accusation hurled at God.
Yesterday God gave me just a glimmer of His heart, and it overwhelmed me with sadness. I’m not sure if sadness is quite the word. Sadness mixed with intense longing. I couldn’t stop crying, and praying. As I prayed, I listened to Addison Road’s “What Do I know of Holy” over and over. Like OCD over and over. Not sure why, but the song drew me. Even now, as I think about it, tears resurface. What do I know of Holy? What do I know of God? My human mind fails to comprehend. So what do I do? I box Him in to what is manageable, or understandable. Yesterday, God shattered my nice little package with an intense, overpowering love.
I understood instantly that what I was feeling was God’s heart for the person He was calling me to pray for. And I have to tell you, my human love paled in comparison to the gut wrenching emotions that swept over me. And just when I thought I was done praying, and ready to get on with my day (the laundry never did get done and that article I keep talking about never did get written) it’d hit me again, like a Mack Truck straight to the chest, and I was back to tears and desperate cries to my Holy Father.
The pain was so intense it frightened me. If God felt such heartache for this person, did it mean that the person I was praying for had walked away completely? Was God in mourning? The thought terrified me and sent me into another tailspin of fervent prayers. I begged God for mercy, for intervention, for nothing short of a miracle. And then I received an email from a fellow writer who had also been called to pray. She relayed to me the words God had spoken to her, and they resonated so deeply, I was instantly reduced, once again to tears. And more prayers. An hour later, I received another email from another friend who was also being called to pray. She, too, provided words of affirmation and encouragement. Through out the evening, my yahoo account lit up with confirmation after confirmation that I was not, was not, was not to give up. Whether it took a week, a month, a year, or even decades.
So again I ask, when is enough enough?
And now I’m going to listen to that song again. Want to join me? Oh, LORD, if you touched my face, would I know you? Touch us now. Overwhelm us with Your love.