Safe in His Arms

Prayer for Rest

By Rae

I watch you fight it out
Struggling to find the way out
And what life is all about
Eludes you again today.
You’re buried in the shattered dreams
Of all your yesterdays
Hoping that life is more
Than the agony of today
Than the agony of today.

Hold on tender warrior,
Even when you feel you’re going down
It’s too much for you to carry alone
Don’t worry if you can’t go on

Your head’s buried in your hands
You’re desperate for someone to know
The weight of all the pain
Your heart’s going through
You tell me that you’re ok
That tomorrow’s another chance
When what you really wanna say
Is locked up in your tears
Is locked up in your tears.

Hold on tender warrior
Even when you feel you’re going down
It’s too much for you to carry alone
Don’t worry if you can’t go on

Rest your heart, lift your eyes
I am here, though the battle rages wild
I’ll wrap my arms around your tattered soul
Hold you close now to my chest
I will shelter you
I will carry you
And all you need to do….

Is hold on tender warrior
Even though you feel you’re going down
I won’t let you go through this alone
Don’t worry, I’ll carry you home.

I remember the shadows. Rain… or was it my own tears? Pain, even physical… a gut-wrenching deep ache that nothing eased. Curled up tight, rocking back and forth. I remember the darkness. The emptiness. The bottomless sense of aloneness. Numbness. Disbelief. Grief so violent it shook my whole body.

Nothing but shadows. The light had been absorbed by sorrow. The darkness my only companion.

“Why God? No… not this. Please not this.” Standing on the edge of a rocky cliff, wailing out the questions in a hot river of pain and tears. Questions with no answers. I was never supposed to be here. This was never supposed to happen. But the crying fields were frozen in the silence of God. We have all walked these fields at some point...will walk them sooner or later. It's the place where, bowed by the weight of an immeasureable sorrow, our words seem to come back as air...where God feels far away...we wonder if He is there at all.

What happens to the human soul…the human spirit…when this kind of shattering, grief-laden moment descends? And I wonder what it looks like from the all-seeing, sovereign eye of the Lord… does it look like a crystal vase hurled to the floor? Or like a tender rosebud haphazardly crushed under a careless hand? Like a clay pot broken and softened for reshaping under the potter’s knowing hand? What does He see when we see a devastated world? When everything we thought would be forever, permanent, safe, loving, comes crashing down into a heap of smoldering dreams?

Bigger still… what happens to the spirit of our eternal Father when deep tragedy strikes us down? How does the heart of the One who knows all, has felt all, and understands all, receive the shock and the jolt of the pain of his Created? Do His tears mingle with our own? Does He stay seated calmly… or does He jump to His feet? In the light of all He knows about the past, present and future of our situation; what Good He knows will come out of what appears to our finite minds as so entirely hopeless…does He limit Himself to the windows of time, to the boundaries of human knowledge and emotion, to feel with us the agonized, profuse, and seemingly permanent pain of our situation? Can an infinite God who knows what will become of both me and my pain still identify with me…see my heart in its deepest state of sorrow…and feel it with me too?

Two of the most powerful words in the entire Scripture answer this question in a way I have come to personally experience in my own journey through the sorrow of loss: Jn. 11:35 “Jesus wept.” It’s not a question…but a simple statement, quietly affirming what we all desperately hope to believe is true of our Great High Priest. This verse falls in the chapter describing the death of Jesus’ good friend Lazarus, and the subsequent summoning of the Lord by Mary and Martha. Jesus came to Lazarus’ grave KNOWING and having already told the disciples that Lazarus would be raised to life again. Jesus knew the outcome… He knew that Mary and Martha’s intense grief would be ended in a few short hours…and yet he was moved by their present state; by their pain. He connected with their hearts exactly where they were at and empathized deeply with them…perhaps as much for their experience of pain as for their limited understanding of what glorious things they were about to see.

As I have wrestled and grappled with the pain of tremendous loss in my life recently, I have found that “Jesus wept” with me too. Feeling Him enter the pain and sorrow with me somehow helps bear the reality of the losses, and claim grace for what looks like catastrophic failure. Knowing that Jesus knows the whole story, even though I never will, is like putting myself in the yoke next to Him…walking through the painful realities while at the same time leaning on the All-Knowing Strength of the One who knows the end from the beginning and has the power to either restore what’s been lost, or give me the strength to bear it.

When we experience the pain of loss--loss of any kind: broken promises, the death of a loved one, thwarted plans--Jesus understands, and grieves with us. He sees a wounded child, not a hopeless situation. He sees the panicked questions…the feelings of inadequacy…the losses so great they seem impossible to heal. Jesus sees them all…but as One who also sees the Rest of the Story.

Allow Him the privilege of being your Healer…allow Him the full rights to your heart…allow Him to be in control. Sit back and lean on His breast as He carefully carries you through what feels like the end of the world. Know that nothing can touch you that doesn’t touch Him as well… and that in clinging to Christ when the lights go out… you will surely be Safe. The One who knows all that is behind and before in this thing called Time will never, ever, ever allow us to walk through a place where He has not first walked and where His love cannot keep us. Hold on tender warrior, and know that He will be holding you.