mourn with those who mourn

My post today feels a little bit vulnerable. As somebody who often gets told that I am really honest, authentic, and vulnerable on a regular basis, it feels a bit funny to share a preface on the subject of vulnerability.

Yet I'm sharing about something personal.

Every day lately, I've been able to tell that God is for me. I had forgotten that for a while, but God has reminded me.

I want to hold tightly to this season, where it seems like more fun to pray than watch tv, where it is more beneficial to study my Bible than anything else. I don't want to let it go. 

I want to honour it. I want to cultivate it. 

So today, I'm sharing a little bit of what my life looked like on Saturday night.

I'm not sharing this to be super spiritual, or to boast in my own actions. My identity is in Christ. I have no need to boast in myself.

I want to share this because it was one of the hardest and best ways to spend an evening.



I've been reflecting on what it means to mourn with those who mourn. As I mentioned last week, I have numerous friends who are going through heavy seasons.

I feel like I got a glimpse of what it is meant to look like on Saturday.

It started with reading something that reminded me of something, and I found myself mourning for a friend who lost her husband numerous years ago.

I wept.

And then I crept from my couch to the floor, to get on my face before the Lord.

I cried for my sweet friend Michelle who just lost her baby.

I cried for my auntie who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer.

I cried for my Dad and his life as his Parkinson's does what Parkinson's does: it only gets worse.



I sobbed as I considered my selfishness, as I considered the things that I pursue instead of living life in light of eternity.


I cried for family, for co-workers, for friends who don't know Jesus.
I cried a lot for those sweet people.


I felt weights on my back, heaviness in my heart, and felt incrediblyy aware that people don't know Jesus. That makes me really sad.


My tears were violent and painful, the kind where my eyebrows were in pain.


I cried, I sobbed, and even though I felt ultimately not at rest, I also felt completely heard.

I didn't say much.
I pleaded the words "please Jesus" over and over.
I begged God to "intervene".

I felt as though God was with me, patiently listening to me, comforting me, and reminding me of His promises.



I still don't think that I quite understand what mourning with those who mourns means, but I do think that God gave me a sweet glimpse into it. Maybe not sweet, since it wasn't a calm and beautiful moment, but definitely a glimpse.

In church yesterday, these lyrics felt really poignant to my heart.

heal my heart and make it clean
open up my eyes to the things unseen
show me how to love like you have loved me
break my heart for what breaks yours
everything I am for your kingdoms cause
as I walk from earth into eternity


I'm also really enjoying this song:
Find You On My Knees by Kari Jobe on Grooveshark