I am overwhelmed. I am sitting at the western end of Denver International Airport, sitting at a bar with my phone plugged in, listening to “Hold My Heart” by 10th Ave North and looking out at the Rockies (that’s how I know I’m facing west). You may be thinking, “What a sap. Overwhelmed by a song.”
But it is not the song, but the totality of my existence this morning that has me totally overwhelmed.
You see, I am not heading to Denver, but to Albuquerque. I am not going to the “Land of Enchantment” for a vacation or a conference. I am going to help bury Joanna; My cousin Tom’s wife. She died last week, her life on this earth ebbing away because of the breast cancer that grew uncontrollably in her body. 50 years old. The heartbreak is inescapable. In a few hours I will stand face to face with her husband and son and parents…
But, let me go on. Last Monday, my wife’s aunt Shirley, one of the most kind and gentle women I have ever met in my life – the very face of self-neglect and servanthood – went to an outpatient surgery center for a “minor procedure” on her ankle and shoulder. Before starting the surgery all the way, something went terribly wrong and Shirley’s heart stopped. By the time she was at the hospital across the street, she had been without oxygen for too long. Over the week of breathless moments and prayers, we have been given doses of the hopelessness that is Shirley’s existence here on Earth. I listened to my children remind me of God’s ability to do anything and in turn reminded them that our plans don’t always match God’s. Then came the news Tuesday night that Shirley’s brain suffered near complete destruction during those minutes last Monday…and a “minor procedure” became the last memory we will all have of our dear Aunt. We will head soon, as a family, to Atlanta, to bury our dear Shirley and ache for her children and husband so lost and lonely for one more of her “sugars” and hugs.
Not only this, but we have been journeying alongside a dear friend who buried her daddy last Winter and many more who are burying their broken hearts and dreams and addictions and lost selves. We have looked into their weepy eyes on so many occasions – sometimes I can’t sleep at night not because of worry, but because of the shared pain I feel. We want to scream to them that the path is not easy, but it is worth it – that God hears and cares and can show them to something new. We know – we have ached like they do and we have known the relief of knowing that God holds us. As my Uncle Roger (who lost his wife to breast cancer a few years back) said the other day, “I have never known God to be so close as He was during those times. I could sense in a very real way His presence strengthening and holding us up.”
Now understand, I am not one who is a foreigner to mourning – my family has a long track record of burying each other at young ages – as my cousin Andrea said the other day, “The Hendricks know death.” In fact, not only have I dealt repeatedly with death in my personal life, but my job places me face to face with those dying and left behind on a nearly daily basis. I sometimes struggle with all the different responses I have to this journey. Sometimes doctor and statistician, sometimes preacher and Christian leader, sometimes little boy, and sometimes husband and father – it can be quite a tornado of emotions and thoughts.
So, I process all this and then on comes the song – “Hold My Heart” and I can barely keep from weeping for Tom and Aaron and Shirley’s husband and daughters and for those whose struggle we are joining on a daily basis:
Hold My Heart Lyrics
How long must I pray, must I pray to You?
How long must I wait, must I wait for You?
How long 'til I see Your face, see You shining through?
I'm on my knees, begging You to notice me.
I'm on my knees, Father will You turn to me?
One tear in the driving rain,
One voice in a sea of pain
Could the maker of the stars
Hear the sound of my breaking heart?
One life, that's all I am
Right now I can barely stand
If You're everything You say You are
Would You come close and hold my heart
I've been so afraid, afraid to close my eyes
So much can slip away before I say goodbye.
But if there's no other way, I'm done asking why.
I'm on my knees, begging You to turn to me
I'm on my knees, Father will You run to me?
One tear in the driving rain,
One voice in a sea of pain
Could the maker of the stars
Hear the sound of my breaking heart?
One life, that's all I am
Right now I can barely stand
If You're everything You say You are
Would You come close and hold my heart.
So many questions without answers, Your promises remain
I can't see but I'll take my chances to hear You call my name
To hear You call my name
One tear in the driving rain,
One voice in a sea of pain
Could the maker of the stars
Hear the sound of my breaking heart?
One life, that's all I am
Right now I can barely stand
If You're everything You say You are
Won't You come close and hold my heart.
Hold my heart, could you hold my heart?
Hold my heart.
Sometimes at night when my kids are afraid and they run into my room, or scream in fear from their rooms I search to find the right words to soothe their fears – to help them know that while the world is a scary and painful place, but that it will be ok. Most of the time I find the words lacking – instead realizing that what they want is to be held by me – instead of big speeches, I have taken to simply holding them close and saying, “Do you feel my arms? Do they feel strong? Will daddy protect you? I am here.” What I feel in those moments is my sweet child relax in my arms, allowing me to hold their heart.
I do not have an answer for Tom or for Shirley’s family, or for all those whose eyes I look into other than that, if you will cry out to Him, He will hear the sound of your breaking heart and hold you in His strong arms, comforting you and showing you the way. It will not be easy. Many times you will feel like you are simply one tear in the driving rain and one voice in a sea of pain and like you are just one life barely able to stand, but He will hear – in fact, you need not beg for Him to be there – He will join you in your journey if you simply groan to Him out of the pain in your heart – there will be a place for you to relax in His arms – they are strong…
For me, my course will continue to take me along life’s journey with those who suffer. But for them, I do not hold them, I am not strong enough, my arms are too weak – I point them, as I do you, to the One who has held my heart, who holds my heart, even on this clear skied and sunny and yet dark, dark Thursday morning. This journey of life embracing those in pain is so painful – so much moreso than the neglectful life of the usual middle class Americanism and it’s unending desire to consume – but it is so wonderful when even one scared and screaming child is snuggled up close to their father and I get to be there when they relax in His arms. You see, nothing is better than to be an emissary of the One, no matter the pain in the journey.
If you are struggling with the pain of life, cry out to Him – He will hold your heart, and please join us sometime at More than more – we meet every other Thursday, 6:45-8:00PM at McAllister Recreation Center, just off 20th and Schuyler Ave, Lafayette. We will be there this Thursday, 7/8/10. Choosing His way will not make all the pain go away, but He will help you through it.
If you are coming face to face with people with are hurting lately, I hope you will join me in daring to care for them – point them to the One who cares for them – it will be hard – but you will look back someday and cherish the point when you decided to take His course.
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