A Note From the Lord

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.
Psalm 56:8 (NLT)

Have you ever wished that the Lord would speak to us today as He did with the apostles? Have you read how Jesus bent down and wrote in the dirt causing a mob to disperse and felt a twinge of envy wishing He would do that for you? Have you ever wondered if He really sees and cares what you’re going through? One day, in the midst of life’s darkest season of my life, He proved to me that He does.

It happened five weeks after we buried my Dad. Mom was having an exceptionally difficult day. If you have ever grieved for someone so close to you, you know that some days loneliness attacks you from nowhere with such force that it takes your breath away. This particular day, the loneliness was accompanied by that ache way down in the pit of her stomach and she clutched it in an attempt to dull the pain. To make matters worse, she had been called to my grandparents early that morning because my grandfather’s health was so poor that we wondered each day if it would be his last. Unlike Dad, Grandpa had been satisfied by a good, long life. Normally, the threat of such a loss would be easier to take but the tender hugs of my grandfather seemed to ease Mom’s heartache more than anyone else’s those days. She simply couldn’t bear to lose those too.

After settling the kids into bed, there was a surprise knock on my door. It was Mom. The prospect of spending the evening alone in her house was too much for her that day. She wanted to “do something”. When I asked her what “something” was, she said, “let’s go shopping!” Now, my Mom is incredibly different from all other women I know in the fact that she hates shopping. Wandering through the women’s department is not pleasurable for her. So when we found ourselves in a local department store, I was a little taken back. It was even more rare that she actually tried on clothes when she shopped. My Dad had always bought the majority of her clothes for her. Within a few minutes, her eyes lit upon a cute denim skirt with tiny flowers embroidered on the pockets. There were a number of them there in assorted sizes. She just grabbed one, which wasn’t her usual size, and off we went to the change rooms. I’m sure silent tears spilt behind those closed doors.

The doors opened and out came Mom. The skirt fit perfectly and instantly won our approval. Mom slid her hands into the pockets as she turned before the mirror. She stopped and pulled out a scrap piece of paper – probably the remnants of an old envelope. On it were scrawled these words, “He (Jesus) healeth the brokenhearted, binding up their wounds.” They are the words of Psalm 147:3. You could have blown me over with a whisper! Where had that note come from? Why was that old scrap of paper in the pocket of that new skirt? Only God knows that! And only God could possibly know how desperately she, we, needed to be reminded that He sees our broken hearts. It hadn’t escaped His view. Many times as people expressed their sympathy to us in the countless cards we received, that very verse was used. But you are used to seeing it there. You expect it. Somehow, for me, it was devoid of some of its meaning as I thought to myself, “yes, yes, I know that Lord, but it just hurts so much.” Well, I know now that God understands. He understands the loneliness. He understands the pain. And He understands when we just really need to see things in black and white – like in that little note…
…we have a great High Priest who has gone to heaven, Jesus the Son of God.

Let us cling to Him and never stop trusting Him. This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same temptations we do, yet He did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it.
Hebrews 4:14-16 (NLT)