Category: fear

Broken Heart of Love – A Poem

This poem was written for someone I love who struggles with bipolar disorder. Though I have suffered through depression, anxiety, and panic attacks, I can never truly understand her pain. I want to help but I am at a loss as to what to do.

I wanted to share this here so those who suffer from mental illness might know how your suffering breaks the hearts of those who love you but don’t know what to do.

A Broken Heart of Love

This searing pain in my heart
I wish it would go away
I pray for it to leave me
But it is love
I would be hollow without it

I watch you drowning
in a sea of turmoil and fear
I reach out my hand,
the one connected to my broken heart
“It’s okay, the sailing’s fine,” you say

I walk away, thinking perhaps
my eyes deceive me and you are not
drowning, or else why
would you say otherwise?
I know you would not lie

But still this pain
deep down inside my aching heart
reminds me
that you are not fine,
the sea is not calm

The storm rages
but I cannot rescue you
You cannot see my hand
reaching through the darkness
beckoning you to dry land

*

ysic, Linda K.

Linda’s website

Living With Chronic Pain

Chronic Pain

Sometimes we live in darkness. We suffer and it’s hard. We mentally accept God’s grace and His love for us, but in our heart we remain untouched. Pain saturates everything it seems. We seem to go through the motions, but deep down we’re convinced that we’ll never find the light that so many claim to have.

Are we “cursed?”

Pain fills our life. We live with something that is persistent, and our hope is a day when it’s all over. Psalm 88 is our Psalm. Nothing is sugar-coated. It is raw and unabridged. It’s pain under a microscope. That Psalm is yours.

For my soul is full of troubles,

    and my life draws near to Sheol.

I am counted among those who go down to the pit;

    I am a man who has no strength,

Psalm 88:3-4

I love you,

Bryan

Front and Center

John 8:3-11

3 Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. 4 “Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. 5 In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” 6 They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.

Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. 7 When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. 9 When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. 10 When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, Lord,” she answered.

John 8:3-11

I remember how Jesus defended me. I had been led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me.

Especially not for me.

The temple police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the lustful looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary.

I’m ashamed, I committed adultery, I had slept with another man who wasn’t my husband.

I was to be stoned, to have hard rocks thrown at me by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man who I slept with was never charged, he escaped and it was I that would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.

My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that.

They put me front and center. They were going to test Him. They were going to destroy me.

These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They wanted to trap him.

Jesus seemed to understand the implications of this satanic effort.

Only Rome had the power of execution, and yet the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?

It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He seemed to look right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.

Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.

I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something that revealed the sin in the hidden hearts of the men who were accusing me. In that moment, they quickly dropped the case against me. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.

And it was then that Jesus looked directly at me.

I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I suppose I half expected the worst.

Yes, he did confront me. But He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.

“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. But my freedom from judgement came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.

At that moment I understood completely.

“God pardons like a mother, who kisses the offense into everlasting forgiveness.”

    Henry Ward Beecher

My Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/bryan.lowe

I Must Touch Jesus Now

“A woman suffering from bleeding for twelve years, who had spent all she had on doctors and yet could not be healed by any, approached from behind and touched the end of his robe. Instantly her bleeding stopped.

45 “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds are hemming you in and pressing against you.”

Luke 8:43-45, (Matthew 9:20-22)

I just had to touch Him.

I had to reach out and somehow get His attention. It was no longer an option. I bled all the time and it wouldn’t stop. It was constant, and it had been 12 miserable years. No one or nothing could cure this, no doctor, no medicine. I was so desperate. It had to stop, you must understand, I was dying.

I had spent so much money, on so many doctors.

I had nothing left. Each doctor promised a cure and my hopes were always dashed. But then I heard about a teacher named Jesus, I was told He had the power to raise the dead and heal every disease He encountered. I don’t really know why, but instantly I knew only He could heal me.

I had an issue of blood, that meant I was ritually unclean and all that I touched became unclean. The temple was off-limits to me, I had been cut off from sacrifice and any kind of personal forgiveness for my sins. In my darker moments, I really wondered if God really had forsaken me? Was I damned?

It had been 12 terribly exhausting years.

What I had to do must be done secretly and quietly. I knew I just somehow had to touch this man. I would have to wriggle my way through the crowd to get close enough. I would be violating ritual law, if I got caught and I’d be harshly censured and condemned.

But I was always tired. Sometimes I barely could walk without fainting.

The crowds were packed all around Him, but honestly, I knew all I needed was just a simple touch. I knew Jesus had the power. I just knew it. I needed somehow to get close enough; I knew that everything depended on me somehow connecting with Him.

So I waited and watched. I tried to jockey myself and get in the right position. The crowds were tightly surrounding Jesus, I had to push, drive and squeeze. Sometimes I had to get on my hands and knees. But in that split second when He passed, I just managed to grab just the very outside corner of the tassel of His head covering.

And immediately the flow stopped. Just like that! I felt it inside, and immediately knew what happened. Finally I knew, deep down, I had been healed! I was clean.

Please understand dear one, only Jesus can free you. If you can only reach out and touch Him, He will change you– forever.

“Christ is the Good Physician. There is no disease He cannot heal; no sin He cannot remove; no trouble He cannot help.”

    James H. Aughey