Widows and widowers, orphans and homeless…in one short month, we’ve witnessed the loss and brokenness of weather gone wild. Many of us have not lost homes and families, but we still know brokenness. Inescapable loneliness. Searing shame. Ripping divorce. Trapping illness. It’s enough to make you want to give up on hope some days.
And yet…this morning my heart resonates with a rich conversation held with 3 other women yesterday — a kingdom conversation about how to bring hope to the broken-hearted. Two moms who have known and prayed for the other’s daughters since before they were born. Two daughters who are thinking hard about how to bring hope to a hurting world. The occasion was my friend’s daughter’s invitation to support her as she works on the campus, ministering to broken-hearted girls who ache to belong, to know they are loved.
Good girls. Bad girls. Girls who had never heard of Jesus. All girls with an ache. Here I turn the writing over to my daughter, who recorded a story she had as an intern with World Harvest last summer. The church she worked with opened an old church through the wee hours of the night and held an arts festival and offered food. Two lost girls happened along and began to talk with my daughter and her friend about their broken-hearts. Here is what Jackie wrote:
“As we were talking about brokenness in the world and the crazy thought that there is a good and loving Father in the midst of it, E— started telling me some REALLY heavy stuff about her life that has completely turned her off to God. She didn’t seem to be hoping for pity but seemed like she rarely talked about these things. It was really really hard and burdensome to hear what she was saying, but what was interesting was that she realized her story has isolated her and it’s caused her to hurt other people in her life because she doesn’t want to let them in. And she recognizes that she’s still hurting and that she shouldn’t have had to experience that pain. Yet, sorrowfully, she’s living in the lie that she will be trapped by that her whole life, that success or moving to America or something will maybe give her temporary escape but she will never be free from her burdens. And I think it’s this absence of hope that really breaks my heart.
But here’s why somehow this conversation was beautiful to me. Somehow, these girls we talked with for over an hour recognized that this world is deeply broken, and they were crying out for some freedom or some hope. And for THAT, I’m pretty hopeful, only because I know God knows their EVERY thoughts and he knows their pain, in fact, he experienced it himself on the cross, and he wants them to come into his comfort and healing. SO. PUHLEEEEEASE pray for these girls. Hey, maybe even pray this for them (and all the hurting people in Camden):
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
2 to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for all those who grieve in Zion
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.
Jackie Turnage blogged last summer about her internship in London at Life across the Pond
For reflection and action: What hopelessness do you see nearby you right this very minute? What hopelessness are you struggling with? How can you minister to others with the hope of the gospel? How can you invite others to minister to you?
