A Prayer for My Fellow Sojourners in Ministry

Oh God who sustains as we cast our cares,

Meet us today.

As we love our families,

Serve our people,

See our communities,

and labor for you,

Meet us in our weariness.

You say, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

Yet we are also commanded to love one another and bear each other’s burdens.

How, Lord?

How do we do this with others when we, ourselves, are so tired, so weak?

How can we carry more, when we have no more space, no more time, no more energy,

nothing left to give, no margin to be found?

We do this in faith that you are who you say you are, regardless of our feelings or circumstances.

God with us, Emmanuel, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, our Rock and Redeemer, our

Provider, our Comfort, our King.

You hem us in, behind and before.

You, the God who created the universe, are invested in us, involved with us, care about us.

You know us.

You ask us to trust.

So we hand you our burdens and take on your yoke.

You give rest for our souls,

Peace in our chaos,

Comfort in our sorrows,

and healing in our woundedness.

You do so lavishly, in compassion and love for us,

Your children.

But not for us to hold tightly, scared to lose it.

Rather, so we can be a vessel of hope,

of peace,

of joy,

of love

To both your children and those who are still orphaned and alone.

We come, currently filled with self and feeling empty of anything life-giving,

Surrendering ourselves to you to be abundantly filled by your Spirit,

Overflowing,

Life-giving.

Knowing we are heard,

Seen,

Loved,

Redeemed,

Filled,

Yours.

And that is more than enough.

I am Here

When one of my children was younger he struggled a lot with anxiety and fear. He comes by it naturally. Both Shawn and I have struggled with these things. It has come out differently in each of us – Shawn tends to shut down and internalize while I talk myself into a frenzy and speak the lies out loud. Neither way is helpful if you continue to sit in them and allow them to shape you and the way you react. When I realized this child was on the verge of a full blown panic attack I knew I had to get him back to reality as soon as possible. I physically grabbed his face, put it right in front of my own, and said, “Look at me, son. I am here. I am right in front of you. I love you. Nothing will ever change that. You are my child.” I kept speaking these truths to him and slowly he started to breath at a more normal rate. As I held him in my arms I continued to pray over him. This didn’t stop the fear from creeping in again later, but in the moment there was peace. He looked at me. I looked at him. Truth was spoken and the power of that changed both of us.

I’ve spent years (decades) in counseling all over the world. Some of it was not so great, but the counselors that I connected with changed me from the inside out. They knew the words to say and the questions to ask to help me see truth. I am all for counseling. But now as I am older I see that it doesn’t help just to know the roots of my issues, or even to pull them out, but I need to replant in this soil that has sat empty. I need seeds of truth to sprout so I can be a person who not only survives in this world, but thrives in the love of my Father.

I need God to grab my face and point me to him.

Isaiah 43:1 says, “But now this is what the Lord says – he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you, I’ve called you by name, you are mine.”

God will always love me. I am his. No matter what happens or how I feel, nothing changes this truth. I am sealed with the Spirit, redeemed and covered under the blood of the lamb. When hard, or even unthinkable, circumstances come my way, I can stand firm in this truth that is stronger than and brighter than any fear, circumstance, or trauma I face. Even when I don’t feel it in the moment, this truth is still truth. Thankfully my faith is not defined my me but by the one whom my faith is in.

When I feel like I am being swallowed up, consumed by the things of this world me and brokenness is all I see, I can look back to this truth and know that God – the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, unchanging from everlasting to everlasting, the Papa who calls me to crawl up in his lap and will cover me in the shadow of his wings, the warrior who defeated death once and for all already – that God love me, Heather. He knows my name, the number of hairs on my head. He knew me before I was formed in my mother’s womb and already had my days planned out. My name is written in his book of life.

When everything around is out of control and I am dizzy and nauseous with uncertainty and fear, I can find this truth and focus on it alone. I can picture the Father grabbing my face and saying, “Focus, breathe. I love you, daughter, Heather. You are my beloved. Be still and know I am God. I am singing a love song over you that more beautiful and healing and whole than you can ever even imagine. I am fighting your battles. I am weeping with you. I am here. I am here. I am here.”