Redeemed is not the same as fixed, and holes can still ache even when we're whole again. - Lisa Jo Baker //

Maybe you’re dying a little bit on your insides?

Every day. Every Monday and Tuesday there are little pieces of your soul crumbling and crying and dying.

Amazing grace! how sweet the sound,
  That saved a wretch; like me!

Maybe you’re over there between the loads of laundry and you think you’re dying of all this mundane rut of a routine?

I once was lost, but now am found,
  Was blind, but now I see.

Maybe it’s the commuter lane at rush hour that’s got you bent over the steering wheel thinking this is it — I just can’t do this anymore. I’m no one’s rat, and I just can’t take this mind-numbing race anymore.

Maybe it’s your cubicle that’s got you slowly feeling all the life drain right out of you.

Maybe the leftover dishes feel like all your left over life that you’ve been missing — gritty and gross and hard to clean.  



Maybe your daughter has leukemia and your heart really is dying with every day you lie next to her on a hospital bed — there’s the doubt that you’ll ever survive losing her. And it’s real. That kind of broken heart.

Maybe your mom died when she turned 42 and you’re only two years shy of her age and you start wondering what you’d do with those last two years. How would you spend them? Surely not on all these episodes of Master Chef you can’t seem to stop watching.

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
  And grace my fears relieved;

Maybe it’s your marriage that has died, all those wedding vows crumbled like old plaster into dust gathering in photo albums — pictures of people you don’t even recognize anymore.

Maybe it’s your son you haven’t seen in a month, who’s stopped returning your calls, stopped talking to you, stopped letting you into the nooks and crannies of his life. That beautiful life that used to be yours to rock and hold and soothe and whisper midnight prayers over bad dreams. That life won’t look you in the eye anymore and it feels like you lost an arm, losing contact with that son.

How precious did that grace appear
  The hour I first believed!

Maybe your insides hurt so bad you’re amazed no one notices. Because a Hello Kitty bandaid can’t possibly hold back the bleeding from a broken soul.

And maybe your soul is bloody and messy and desperately lonely.

Maybe we need to remind you that you’re not alone.

We want to sit with you today and be with you and hold that pain for you for a bit, so that you don’t have to go on carrying it alone.

Won’t you click here so we can remind you that you are not alone – I’m sharing the rest of this story at (in)courage today.