I wonder if my angels groan more than others. I sometimes envision the other angels laughingly elbow my angel in the ribs and saying, “Boy Uriel, you’ve got your hands full with that stubborn one.” I do whisper prayers of appreciation, but perhaps a hand written thank you note with a Starbucks gift card would better suffice.
When I was 4 and my cousin was 5, it seemed we tested our angels a lot. After watching Mary Poppins, we grabbed a couple of umbrellas from our grandmothers closet and headed to the rooftop of their house to take flight. I don’t remember how we climbed on top of the house (details that are simply irrelevant), but I do recollect standing up there, umbrella bloomed, looking down to the ground and thinking it would be best to let my older cousin jump first.
You know, age before beauty.
So, with umbrella in hand, Cole jumped into the sky. I watched with anticipation, thinking about all the places we would visit once we could fly. My plans to see the world were quickly squashed as Cole plummeted to the ground. Some people just weren’t meant to live in the clouds.
I’ve yet to try it, the jury is still out on this girl.
Brooker-T and P-Cole Payne
A silly little story to illustrate the “Groans that words cannot express.”, which is my defense mechanism. It’s what I do to survive and thrive. I make heavy things light. Sometimes life gets too weighted. God is gracious to intercede.
Out of all the marvels and systems our Creator has made; next to grace, this one feels the kindest. This whole interceding thing. If I even knew the words to pray, could you hear them from this pit? Most times the words are lacking because we can’t envision a solution. Yet, the Spirit intercedes. We are so tired in our weak places, we have run out of words to pray. Perhaps we are just tired from the pure exhaustion of dealing with it or maybe our hearts are completely shattered from devastation.
The best way I’ve heard weak, lonely, and hopelessness described as, was found in the Unglued devotional by Lysa Terkeurst:
“Weak places are like the lever that flips open the drain in my bathtub. My whole world can feel full and warm and clean until that little lever is pulled. Suddenly, the warm comfort is sucked away, leaving me shivering in a cold, hard, residue-filled space. Cold, hard, and residue-filled is exactly what those weak places make me feel like inside.”
Cold, hard, and residue filled. Weak, sad, and consumed with turmoil.
When life brings oppression, sometimes it is all I can do to just sit and stare. Par-A-Lyzed. I would make for a great possum.
Those times, the energy to press into my Creator feels non-existent. Yet, that is exactly when we have assurance that the Spirit is present in our weakness, letting us rest as it prays for and over us.
A recent situation had me staring at more walls than I want to admit to. The rocking chair was practically worn out. As a “Fight or Flight” recoveree, I usually struggle to sit still. This time, sitting was no struggle. The fight had left, the warm water had drained out, and I sat in the cold, hard, soap scum tub. I don’t have the answers. I don’t even know how to pray. Words and solutions fail me. So, I grip tight to the teaching, “with groans that words cannot express”, the Spirit is interceding for all involved.
Thank you Creator. Thank you Spirit. Thank you Angels. Thank you lessons. (Dang you Mary Poppins.)
**For those worried about my cousin Cole, he lived. However, he still cannot fly.
