There Is Nothing but Prayer

My heart breaks

for the pain in other people’s lives.

And there is nothing I can do

but pray.

 

My heart breaks

as I watch tears flowing.

And there is nothing I can do

but pray.

 

There is brokenness everywhere

And so many are lost and searching in the wrong direction.

I don’t know what I can do

but pray.

 

A prayer warrior?

Maybe.

I just pray when there is nothing else to do.

Will you join me?

 

I have a list of people and issues I pray for,

But it is inadequate.

How do I express my soul to the Lord?

But the Spirit intercedes.

He hears my heart louder than my words.

He knows what I mean when words can’t form.

Even music escapes me as inwardly I groan

for God’s love and healing to abound.

 

Healing!  Where is it? I cry.

Every day, people die.

Physical? Emotional? Spiritual healing?

The world cries out for help.

But they refuse to surrender.

 

My heart breaks

for the many that don’t know God personally.

And there is nothing I can do

but pray.

 

Though I go out in faith

and let God live through me,

I can do nothing on my own.

And so I pray.

 

I would like to say that this is my heart’s attitude all the time,

but it’s not.

I have been seeing and hearing this more and more,

the power of prayer.

Why can’t the aroma of my heart be one of prayer?

Constant surrender and obedience?

We all know why.

We all live on this earth together.

Struggles; battles; lies.

 

So what can I do,

when faith is failing

and words run dry?

There is nothing I can do on my own

but pray.

And so I shall.

 

Written 4-4-13 by Anna Olson; in the middle of reading “Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire” by Jim Cymbala

In the Depths of Me

This was written a few weeks ago.  It is pretty personal, but I thought I’d share, because I know I’m not the only one who’s got crap to deal with.  I have a hard time letting people in, and this is one of the reasons. It was really therapeutic to write, and I thought that it would also be therapeutic to share.  –Anna

 

A sadness lies in the depths of me.

Of all the feelings I have, I’d rather be happy.

So I pay no heed to what could bring me down.

I’d much rather show the world a smile than a frown.

My biggest fear is being selfish and raising up myself.

I don’t like people that way, but is this tolling my health?

 

A sadness lies in the depths of me.

When I move to reveal it, tears run free.

A wall has been standing I didn’t know was there.

Barred across a window is a sign warning, “beware.”

With a deep breath I move the sign to take a look.

But as soon as I do, I want to return to my safe nook.

 

There are dark and messy feelings mixed in with the sadness.

I am overwhelmed—how has in me been all this madness?

There is so much there, I don’t want to deal.

But a whisper prompts me: “It’s time to get real.”

Through the window I see me, wading through the mess.

This part of me has been blocked off, abandoned in distress.

 

I watch me limping through the muddy, untouched feelings.

I wonder how I got there, behind the wall’s concealings.

I am lonely and bruised; hurt and abused.

I’ve pretended things don’t bother me, while behind the wall is heartbreak’s gathering.

The me inside picks up a sign, and holds it for me to see.

“Less of me, Lord, more of you,” the proclamation sings.

I’ve believed that humility is making myself less.

But that’s a lie I’ve believed that helped make the mess.

I’ve pushed myself so far down that I’m stuck behind this wall.

Nobody gets in or out, no negativity, or anything at all.

 

I watch myself as I sort through the rubble.

I want me to stop, because I know it’ll bring trouble.

Slowly, I see all of what’s inside.

Slowly, I find all I try to hide.

 

Fear is something in there that’s reoccurring.

Fear of failure, of unacceptance, of the future?  It’s concurring.

I see the loneliness that has been there longer than I’ve known.

In it, doubts and depression have established their home.

I see in there the disease that’s still stuck with me.

Standing outside the wall, I am aware that I can’t get free.

I’ve cast its negativity over the wall,

But it still grasps me, though I appall.

 

The feelings inside notice something is amiss.

They want to escape; they let out a hiss.

“We’re not all bad,” they cry, though I can’t believe them.

“You’ve left memories, here, too!” I wince as they condemn.

“But I put them there for a reason,” I cry through the window’s glass.

“I don’t want them anymore!” And then my nightmares amass.

 

Lies begin to fill my head, as the window’s pane is shattered.

The me inside moves toward me now, to the sound of the words batter.

“Help me,” she wept as she approached her better-off self.

I backed away, shaking, before she could touch me herself.

“You’ve done enough damage,” I said from a distance.

“But Anna, this is your doing, your consistence.”

I kneel to the ground and weep aloud.

“I don’t know what to do,” I cry into the cloud.

 

“Anna,” a voice says, causing me to raise my eyes.

It’s Jesus, my Lord, and he helps me rise.

“I can’t do this,” I whisper to him. “Look at all I’ve done!”

“Anna,” he says again, “I’ve already won.”

I shake my head, because I don’t know what to do.

“Let me help,” he says, “And I will renew.”

 

Taking my hand, Jesus leads me to the mess.

I pause when we reach it, but a tug leads me to progress.

I must face everything that’s behind this wall,

Though I can’t see its entirety ‘cuz I’m not that tall.

A sadness lies in the depths of me.

Maybe someday soon, I will finally be free.

 

When I surrender and trust…

How am I doing?  I ask others how they are doing all the time, and I pray for them when they give me a request (even if they don’t).  But me?  I’ve been doing homework constantly for the last few days, and I even thought, “Hey!  My sleep schedule has almost reached that of a normal—”  And that’s when it happened.  I?  Normal?  I shall never reach that of which the average college student refers to as normalcy.  The MS I have prohibits it, and demands that I take care of myself and get more sleep than even I would prefer to get.  Yes, I crashed.  But not like a normal caffeine crash.  More like a, “I don’t know how the heck I’m going to get back to my dorm room across campus because I CAN’T WALK.”  Saved by Super Sis, who happens to go to my school and comes to rescue Sister in Distress, I got back to my room.  I finished up my homework and emailed it to my prof.  And I prayed.  I texted some of my friends requesting prayer, as well.  I surrendered this stupid disease.  The act of surrender doesn’t make it all better, but I am NOT in control.  Jesus is.  Whatever happens, I will praise him.  If I don’t get better and can’t ever walk well, I will praise him, because I will have opportunity to depend on him MORE THAN EVER (even more than now!).  If I get better and my walking becomes great, I will praise him, for he has BROUGHT ME THROUGH (he is faithful!).

I am taking a sick day in hopes I will regain strength and rest and that by tomorrow my walking will be better.  Even if it’s not, I will finish out this midterm week to the best of my ability (which comes from HIM).  Fall break starts this weekend, ya’ll!

 25Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? 26 Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? 32 “Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom! (Luke 12:25-26, 32)

I have chosen not to worry about the future or school (it’s been a process, but I’m not worrying!  Though I continually repeat scripture in my head when I do start to worry..I trust!).  God will see it through to the end, and his purpose will prevail.  I am his daughter and he delights in me.  I think I needed to write this post as much as I needed to share it.

Trusting in Him, Anna 🙂