jakorte's blog

At the end of our trip, emotionally weary, we spread out in the chapel. Purposefully putting empty rows between us, we felt alone. We listened to the music, and concentrated on a lone flickering candle.

Just one piece of paper; which we were charged to fill. On one side we were to write our prayer: “LORD, please take away…." On the other side, another prayer: “LORD, please give…."

No time limits, no speaking; just us with our thoughts. Together, yet alone: Alone, yet together. In this quiet time we exposed ourselves. Not necessarily to each other, but to GOD. All that we had seen, all we had felt, all we could not understand, leapt from our souls as hearts cried for peace. The tears came. I closed my eyes to the candle’s light, listening to real tears: some quiet, some sobbed.

The harder I shut my eyes, the more light came in. It just kept getting brighter and brighter. My first prayer led to my second, seamlessly. LORD, please take away the overwhelming pain of those who cannot bear it; LORD, please leave them with enough pain to be compassionate and enough fuel to minister.

I tried to duplicate the devotional effect a few minutes later, after I had composed myself, and reread my prayers. It couldn’t be done. It still can’t be done.

I took my note, my own double-edged sword of a prayer, and slowly let it drift into the fire as we had been instructed to do. I don’t think that prayer got any closer to GOD that way. I don’t think that I wanted my prayer to be a silent request. I want you to understand why we are given pain.

So do this: Find your pain. Bring it to the surface. And, then, I want you to act on it, use it, glorify it. Share it with compassion, believe that your old pain gives you a new foundation. GOD has given you a gift. Choose to use it.