On Friendship and Prayer

At the onset of this undertaking, I resolved to write an honest blog, to write about our move to Chile with as much integrity as I could muster.  The problem with this resolution is just that – it’s difficult to tell our story with our whole heart, as Brene Brown tells us to do in her vulnerability talks on TED.  She explains that courage has to do with the French word COEUR, for heart.  Telling our story with our whole heart, not holding back a part for fear of rejection or because of shame, which many of us are plagued with.

A writer’s life is solitary and tedious, it depends on self-motivation and discipline, and personal reflection is only as strong as it is willing to reveal its weakness.  Most of my readers by now know my polarity, know the back and forth nature of this particular season of my life – the doubts, the frustrations, the longings, the ache of nostalgia.  One family member has even counseled us to go back to the States.  Too many things are stacked against us.  Best just pack up and return.  This, of course, is an option.

At the height of personal doubt and impending despair, I wrote to five friends last week. Two of which were my mother and younger sister.  In essence the email shared our particular set of problems, the hardships which aren’t quite appropriate for me to share on a public blog, and the difficulties, along with my fears, which were taking over my ability to think rationally.  The question: What the hell do we do now?  The problems and disappointments are louder than God’s voice.  My request: Please listen to Him on my behalf.  And make sure it’s God.

When we do this, ask our friends to listen to God’s voice on our behalf, we are at risk.  Will their counsel hold?  Will they speak wisely, or with their own selfish interests in mind?  Both parties – the prayer and the prayed for, must commit to move past the clutter of our own inner chaos and be quiet.  And the listener has to be able to move past his or her fears of self-doubt. This is no easy task in our loud, frantic society filled with noise and confused with personal insecurities.

I chose five people who know my life, who love us deeply, have a vested interest in our well-being, and who have spent years training themselves to hear into the unseen and catch the sound of silence.

Karissa wrote first.  She and I have been friends for twenty years.  Her words were kind, sensitive and clear:  Your God will save you. There is no going back.

Another friend wrote next.  She’s waiting, praying.  Near to us in her heart.  Another friend wrote, she’s praying and waiting.  Has thoughts but wants to test them, make sure they come from God and not from her own mind.

My mother’s words came next, and here, I must pause and say something about my mom, about parenting. As parents, many of us know how hard it is to put aside our own desire for our children’s well-being and see beyond the momentary agony they might be in and stand for their good, not their ease or relief, but for their good.  Love means to will Good for our children, our neighbor, our spouses.  And we all know that a lot of the time, goodness and well-being come after a dark dark season, after the trial.  As parents, we have to remove our own needs, and our own wants.  I don’t like this idea very much as a mom.  I want my kids to be happy and to go through life in painless bliss right next to me.  Thank you very much!  Thankfully, my mother is not so immature.  She wrote: You can’t set your hand to the plow and look back.  God wants you there.  He’ll come through, though it is hard, you need to press in.

And finally my younger sister, who has lived about seven years in Australia and knows the language of loneliness and disappointment quite fluently now.  She waited and waited, I’m sure sifting her own thoughts out of the equation and grew quiet, hearing, testing the words, making sure they were whole and good.  They were.  She spoke directly into a promise I got from God three months ago and used the words, the exact number God gave me – something I had shared with no one, except Rodrigo.  Relief enveloped me and calmed me.  We are to press in.  We are to remain.  We are to Abide here in this land.  And it isn’t easy.  That was never the promise.  For any of us.

To some of you reading, you probably think I’m nuts.  That’s okay, I wonder that myself a great deal of the time.  But all of this is to say, we need not walk alone.  Love, real love does not seek its own or flinch at our friend’s adversity, but upholds the call, the charge.

Wisdom and goodness, humility and strength do not come from ease and financial security, or from life going “my way.”  They come from stretching out and walking down the road that leads to life, abundant life to be exact … We need friends to stay the course.  Thank you for all who are praying for us.  We surely need it.

Much love,

Tina