Sitting in her office plotting…. I, blinded to the depth of hate and bitterness raging within. “The kingdom is besieged! The kingdom is besieged”, she screams out to her task masters. “There is a threat in the kingdom; our kingdom. The kingdom will fall!”
A threat? Who, me? Me? Ideas a threat? New ways to minister where God is working, a threat? After a fall, a tiny scar in my gardening jeans, a threat?
Feigning reassurance with many public kisses, she plots. Oh yes, of course you are blessed and loved. “All is well”, she crones, “Blessings upon blessing to you”.
And then suddenly with surgical accuracy, the blade of the ax swings upward, up, up, up and lightening-quick falls, hitting its mark; the stroke is true. It is a death blow. Love lies bleeding… Love, Trust, Unity, Hope lies bleeding on the ground. And now… the kingdom truly is in danger, though it never was before.
I am undone. Body downed, broken and bleeding; she dismembers my branches; everything discarded; disposed of, and thrown into the garbage pit. It is my garbage pit, my grave of despair.
Nothing left, but a hideous stump waiting to die. Everyone turns away, saying, “What a shame…. Where are all those noble thoughts and talk of self-sacrifice”? Were the ancient ones who inspired me so thoroughly, wrong?
Are you here God? God, I can’t breathe. I am suffocating. God, air won’t go into my lungs. I feel totally alone, unwanted, uncared-for, unloved. It is the greatest of suffering. I can’t bear it. It is too great. I am undone.
Where is hope? Does hope still exist? Hope for me? It would be so easy to stay here alone, hopeless… roots withering, vines growing over to hide the shame; despising the shame. I will die, my heart resolves. Why live? I will die from this pain, misery, utter despair. But of course this is folly and yet, I am unable to do anything else. I cannot. Lord help. Yes, Lord, please restore. Heal the brokenness within and transform me to hope.
Father, please…please give me divine power-the power of Gethsemane. Give me the strength to wait for hope – to look through the window when there are no stars. Even when my joy is gone, give me the strength to stand victoriously in the darkest night and say,
“To my heavenly Father, the sun still shines. I will have reached the point of greatest strength once I have learned to wait for hope.” George Matheson in Streams in the Desert.
Please pray for the hopeless…