My Holy Discontent

This week Greg talked about “Holy Discontent” (h.d. from this point on), which is like a restlessness about something that you feel should change, or be improved upon, something that kind of nags at your heart and you can’t seem to get it too far out of your mind. Not just some selfish desire, or worry, but something put in us by God. We all have different h.ds.

I have known what mine is for some time now, I just didn’t exactly know what to call it.

Very specifically, my h.d. is knowing that there are women out there right now in my community and probably even in my church who are going through terrifying, high-risk pregnancies and/or pregnancy loss....completely alone or unsupported.

I wish I knew who they were. I wish I could cry and pray with them. I wish I could go to the hospital with them and sit in the waiting room with them while they find out if they are indeed going to loose their babies. I wish I could pull them out of bed and make them put on some lipstick and go shopping. I wish...I wish...I wish.

In more general terms, my h.d. is knowing that there are all kinds of people out there right now in my community and my church going through various kinds of life traumas....completely alone or unsupported.

If I feel this passionately about being there for women in similar situations that I’ve been through, I know there are other people out there who would love to be given the opportunity to support others who are going through things that they have dealt with. Cancer, divorce, sexual abuse, loss of a parent, loss of a spouse, other things I can’t even think of.

I don’t know Cancer. I can’t do much for someone who does, except pray and listen. But I know what I know and I would drop just about anything in a heartbeat if I was needed to help a woman in that kind of crisis.

Does our church need some kind of network of trusted, Godly people to be called upon when needed if a certain kind of situation arises? Do we need to take a “bone marrow” approach by asking people to be willing to donate their time and love if a match is made? I don’t know what needs to be done. All I know is that somewhere right now a woman is facing the loss of her child and she needs me, or someone like me, and I’m not there because I don’t know who she is.

And that breaks my heart.

The way I think about this whole h.d. thing is like a dog in a hot car with the windows rolled up. At first the dog will just be a little uncomfortable, then he’ll start to get nervous. Then he’ll start to panic. And for those few minutes that dog will fight harder to get out of that car than he has fought for anything in his life. And then he will get weak. He will begin to die.

I’m afraid my h.d. is starting to get weak. It was very strong right after we lost Evan. It feels strong now as I type this. But it does not consume me the way it once did.

Maybe that’s a good thing and maybe it’s not. I don’t want that dog to die.