My heart ached under the weight of a thousand burdens.
One night last December, I cried tears held inside my wounded heart for months:
God, my heart is breaking, my heart is breaking.
I was desperate for a truly accurate view of God, for relief, for help in the intense season of hardship where I found myself. My perception of Him was clouded. Growing up with legalism blinded me to the fact that His love is real, personal, and bestowed freely on me.
To my comfort and delight, Jesus answered my cries. The wall of silence and barriers of legalism crumbled for the first time. He met me in the wounds of my hardship and heartbreak with these words, “I was broken for you.“
Immediately afterward, He gave me a vision. His scarred, wounded arm and right hand was reaching for me as I kneeled at the Cross looking up at Him.
It was a moment of deep healing. Because of the harsh rules that clouded my perception of God, I never understood that His love was real and personal until that moment when He drew me to Himself in such a reassuring, beautiful way.
Have you experienced seasons of woundedness, too? Is your heart weary under the weight of burdens you no longer have the strength to carry?
Although it is still a perplexing paradox, I have discovered that seasons of trial equal seasons of richest growth in our Christian lives.
If we have festering wounds, it will make us feel like we are on the brink of death when God uses hardships to scrape them clean, amputate the ugly, and rid us of infection through trials. But we don’t have to suffer in misery in the midst of that process.
Let’s claim these sweet promises, allowing them to soak into our soul like a refreshing flood:
He was wounded for us so we no longer have to break under burdens and scars (1 Cor. 11:24, 1 Pet. 2:24).
His wound and His blood bring a rich, complete wholeness to the ravines chiseled by pain (Job. 5:18).
He sews up the tattered mess of our hearts, then binds the wound with His everlasting love (Ps. 147:3).
As I have continued to walk through a stressful season, He has taught me three truths that have helped me to cling to hope—and cling to Him!—when hardships are wounding my heart:
1. God planned every second of our lives from our first newborn cry to last exhale, long before He knit us together:
“For you formed my inward parts,
You covered me in my mother’s womb.
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…
Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
And in Your book they were all written, the days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were none of them” (Psalm 139:13-16, NKJV).
He has orchestrated all, knows all, and has gone before all. We can trust His wisdom.
2. He graciously veils the future from our eyes.
“Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (Matthew 6:34).
We aren’t strong enough to gaze on storms in the distance while in the midst of one without feeling entirely overwhelmed. It is a gift that our knowledge of the future only extends to today.
3. When fierce hardships are unveiled and must be traversed, He sustains us.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil;
For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;
You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over.
Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever (Psalm 23:4-6).
Even in circumstances as extreme as facing death and our enemies, He turns the hardship into a time of abundance with the nearness of Himself. We don’t have to cower in the shadows, because He is with us.
Hang on, friend. There is hope in Him. Everlasting hope, everlasting strength, and everlasting love wait for us in His scarred arms.
We can leave our wounds with Him, trusting that He will heal us.
Light is coming.
Moriah Simonowich – Column: Hope For Weary Hearts
Moriah Simonowich a twenty-year-old living in North Carolina who loves porch swings, wide open skies, lattes, lab puppies, and the crispness of October. It’s rare that she misses an opportunity to slip outside and quietly capture sunsets. Writing is like oxygen to her heart. You can connect with Moriah here: www.delightinginhim.com