In the early morning darkness, I lay my head back on the
couch, face lifted, chest wide, shoulders back.
Open. Prayers rise, unbidden, as
coffee cools in my cup.
Decisions, relationships, lift like smoke, ascending from
that tense place in my chest where I hold things too tightly. For the hardest things, my words are lacking,
stumbling stutters.
“Please. Help.”
I feel inarticulate, frustration rises.
//
When my four-year-old gets in a tight place in the yard –
stuck upside-down in the hammock, balanced precariously on the edge of a fall –
he cries out.
“Somebody help I!
Somebody help I!”
Yesterday, having nicked his heal, he ran into the house at
full speed, full volume, calling, “Guys, I bleeding! Guys, I bleeding!”
I love the unspecificity of his cries, the simplicity.
He is a boy raised in a loving crowd – someone will
answer.
He doesn’t need to find the right words to wrap around the
problem in the midst of his panic and fear – help will come, regardless.
//
This is what comes to me in the midst of the frustration and
inadequacy.
Ah, I think, I am praying like a child.
I live in the midst of a great sea of Love – Someone will
answer.
I don’t need to find the right words – Help will come,
regardless.
My cries are precious to the ear that hears them.
Friends, the lovely Laura Boggess and I are leading a retreat day on September 26 based on Jesus’ invitation to become “as a little child.” You can find out more about this event here.
* * *
Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.
What if we chose to deliberately look for the small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?
That’s my proposal – that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.
You’re invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder. Don’t worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right – you’re welcome to come as you are.
While you’re here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.
Kelly, wonderful post. Earlier this morning, I was reading Genesis 16:13, when Hagar says … "She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her, "You are the God who sees me, for she said, "I have seen the One who sees me." He sees us. He knows the help we are so in need of. And He comes to us. Thank you for confirming His Word to me this morning! Have a blessed Monday!
I so appreciate this message, Kelly: We don't have to have the "right" words to call on the Lord for help. He knows our heart's plea even through a simple cry of "Help!"
Oh, such a good thought. I was recently reading JI Packer's words on prayer, about the importance of framing our thoughts in words, and this is a grace-filled companion to that thought. My words don't have to be any more complicated than, "HELP!"
Thanks, Kelly.
love this post – God is our Helper and I love how simply we can call on him yet the power he pours down is magnificent.
Oh Kelly, I do love this! I was trying to pray for one of my children today, who is having a hard time at the moment, and I just didn't have the words to say. I know he needs help, but I don't know how to help him. Thank you for the reminder that just as my kids come running to me to tell me that a sibling is hurt and needs me, I can go to my Father and tell Him that help is needed, without having to know the specifics of what that help should be.
I took a one month blogging break but am so happy to be back! Your words touch me every single time, Kelly. I think I need to follow after you…to start praying more like a child. There are no right words, we just need to call out and God will come. Ahh…such a wonderful thing to think about.
Oh my goodness, yes! I love this! (And what I wouldn't give to go to that retreat! Praying for you all and can't wait to hear all about it!)
You're prayers are much appreciated, Karrilee!
Ah! the wonder of children! We can learn so very much from them, their simple cries for help is what God wants from us!! Thanks for your tender words!
I love the freedom in this, the "great sea of Love," the knowing deep that someone will answer our cries for help, no matter how unspecific or inarticulate. You show this masterfully in your storytelling here. Thank you, friend.