I feel it again. That surge of anger that stems from confusion, from just. not. knowing. I feel lost.
It rises and lowers like the tide in an estuary. I never know if I’ll sink up to my shins in goopy sand, or if the surface will hold my tentative steps. I just don’t know. I feel lost.
Anger surfs close to confusion like the tears that surf under my smile. My heart squeezes in pain. I can’t tell if I’m helping or enabling the friend my tender heart yearns for. I feel lost.
I’ve never navigated this route before—this helping someone whose sense of lostness runs so much deeper than mine. I KNOW how to find help. He waits just a prayer-breath away.
Praying for an Answer
But how can I transmute my knowledge to one who struggles just to make it through the day without believing every. single. lie. of the accuser? I feel lost. (click to tweet)
And so I do what I do best. I pray. I reach out to the only One who can pierce the darkness that my friend flounders in. I pray for the words that will help. I pray for my own sense of lostness, confusion and helplessness.
God might not have chosen me to give the words that will help my friend—but I can pray that that person shows up soon. In God’s time. (click to tweet)
I might feel lost, but I know He finds me in my confusion and hurt. He will find my friend, too.
“So let God work his will in you. Yell a loud no to the Devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and he’ll be there in no time.” James 4:8—the Message
