Day 36: Deeply Grieved
“ And Jesus said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.’ And going a little further, he threw himself onto the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. He said, ‘Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.’” ~Mark 14: 34-36,
Deeply Grieved and Finding Hope
by Dakota Storm-Lewis
by Dakota Storm-Lewis
On Ash Wednesday of this year, I had asked God to help me to know who Christ truly was, what He sacrificed for me, but before I could even begin to really tackle that question I had to do some serious spiritual “spring cleaning”. It came in stages, and the first was God holding up a giant mirror forcing me to accept the things about myself that I never wanted to see. I began to see myself in a light that showed my truest colors, and trust me they weren’t pretty. I was covered in these reds and blacks that splattered all over me like a hideous stain. As I looked into this mirror, as I looked into myself, I broke down. I felt so exposed, like the mask I had been hiding behind for so long was finally ripped off, and I stood before God and felt so guilty and more alone than ever. I was convinced that there was no way God could forgive me, because I couldn’t even find it within me to forgive myself.
These forty days have been filled with nothing but repentance and prayer, and asking God to help me find peace within myself and forgiveness from Him. I’m still asking, really. The forgiveness I have felt. I knew He had forgiven me as soon as I truly repented, but the peace… I cannot seem to find Him or his love in any of this muck covering my heart. It’s a feeling that I almost can’t describe. It’s one full of panic, and regret, and an aching loneliness that becomes so crippling that I cannot see past it. There are many nights in which I am so heavy laden, when there is so much sorrow on my heart, that I throw myself onto my bed and call out to God, begging Him to take this from me. I don’t want to do it anymore. I can’t do this anymore.
But then I remember that I was the one who wanted to know who Christ was and what He did for me. He carried His cross and with it, carried out his Father’s will. And despite his fear and his suffering, on that third day He rose again. It is in this that I find my hope. It is knowing this that makes those nights bearable. And this Easter, after this season of Lent is over, I hope to finally put down my own cross and stand there with Christ, redeemed and at peace.
Prayer:
Jesus, you see me. all of me. —even the parts I try to hide from myself—
...and that’s scary.
But I know you, too. I know you’re a God of love and grace and redemption.
So take me. Redeem me. Transform me.
Help me to walk in Your light, fill me with Your hope (and teach me to forgive myself, too).
Amen.
Jesus, you see me. all of me. —even the parts I try to hide from myself—
...and that’s scary.
But I know you, too. I know you’re a God of love and grace and redemption.
So take me. Redeem me. Transform me.
Help me to walk in Your light, fill me with Your hope (and teach me to forgive myself, too).
Amen.
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