Jacob had blown up his life and this little detail in scripture helps us understand just how low he was feeling.
Tag: pain
A personal log of loss and pain can either soften us toward our travel companions or callous our hearts.
We are going Home. What it costs to get there is of little consequence.
The woman at the well with Jesus was a shameful lady, living in a shameful city, amidst a shameful country. She was buried alive beneath layer upon layer of shame and could hardly lift her head under the weight of it.
When we remember what comes next, when we take the time to consider the depth of joy and wonder that weighs enough to tip the scale on cancer and school shootings, dialysis and depression, on corrupt politicians, fraudulent court proceedings, record inflation and all the other ugly things fallen man has made prominent — well, it lightens the load for today by some measure.
Dear Jesus cried out to His Father in acute honesty. Though His words feel accusatory, His actions spoke belief. Jesus was sure that His Father was still near enough to hear Him.
Jesus knew the limitations of His disciples. He realized they could not alleviate His pain, but He had hoped that they might, at the very least, keep pace with Him that final night. They did not know the future He was facing or the agony He would endure, but they could be present in His affliction. In those moments of anguish, in the time and space where Jesus set His face like flint toward the tasks at hand, He was simply wanting a witness for His pain.
It is remarkable how the risen, resurrected Savior sits with us in our sorrow.
Our Savior held fast to the values He and His Father had set long before the pain and suffering rolled in and clouded His view. I’m convinced His commitment to Kingdom amidst His suffering has implications for our own seasons of sorrow.