A few years ago, as winter melted into spring and beauty bloomed all around, I packed a suitcase and my sadness and flew to see friends.
The trip was on the calendar long before grief swept in turning the technicolor of spring to black and white. The shock and vibrancy literally springing up outside didn’t match the shock and devastation inside, but everything was already planned so I flew across the country with a carry-on — confusion suddenly coloring everything: every old memory, every future hope, and every current unknown.
I showed up holding my breath, certain the women were (and are) trustworthy and kind… but on the heels of a loss I didn’t choose or want, I arrived with both: a genuine smile and a broken heart.
What was up had crashed down, spring felt like winter, and in the midst of so much that wasn’t right, I was left with tears running and my hands full of questions.
That is, until one morning a voice gently said, “Kaitlyn, open your hands. You’ve poured out for a long time. It’s our turn.”
Only two of the women knew the details, but they sent out a group SOS on my behalf. It was the most beautiful blindside. A pile of Truth to speak to the lies. Rachel prayed and I wept as page after page, envelope after envelope landed in my open palms. And the two who understood the whole story quietly whispered, “They don’t know. We didn’t say. But we all wanted you to have something to hold onto until the storm stops.”
Despite not knowing the details, my friends offered their words like buoys of hope and anchors of truth, each one its own lighthouse in the deep and in the dark. After we all returned home, I read one card each day. When I finished, I started reading them all again from the beginning. Their words were manna in a storm that continued to rage.
The words mattered (matter), but more than that, it was the community saying, You’re safe and beloved, we see and we’ll stand here holding your arms until it’s all said and done.
In Exodus 17:9, with the Israelites under attack, Moses does something wildly unexpected. “Choose some of our men and go out to fight the Amalekites,” he said to Joshua. “Tomorrow I will stand on top of the hill with the staff of God in my hands.”
Scripture says that Moses and two of his friends, Aaron and Hur, climbed the hill. “As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up — one on one side, one on the other — so that his hands remained steady till sunset” (Exodus 17:11-12 NIV).
The minutes slowly ticked by. Sweat dripped. His friends found a rock, a place to rest while the battle continued. His muscles spasmed. Perhaps doubt began to whisper, loneliness drawing near as Moses watched from afar. But then, suddenly, the weight was shared, the load lighter, the heaviness lifted as his hands were held by friends who stayed near, standing by his side and shouldering the pain.
His hands remained steady till sunset.
It’s in this place that Moses built an altar called The Lord is my Banner.
For me, it was a couch in a hotel room, hands open and held up by friends who offered the gift of words in the wilderness, every card a reminder that I wasn’t alone in the chaos before me, each woman pointing me toward the One who is good and kind and faithful in every storm.
I wish, after all this time, I could say that the sun set and the battle ended and now everything feels like spring. I wish I could paint a picture of beauty from ashes, new life growing in the place of loss.
The truth is, I have a pile of cards but there’s no beautiful bow on my story. Not yet, anyway. The storm was cruel and the waves haven’t hushed. I’m drenched through but still standing, heartbroken but hands full.
The truth is, there may not be a bow on the way, at least this side of eternity. I hate that, so very much, for me and for you. But if you can, friend, open your hands. The God of abundance is a Good Father, a Great Friend, familiar with storms, and able to provide manna in all shapes and forms.
May these last lines from the pile of cards be that for you today. Tear off a piece. Pass it along. God won’t run out.
You are held and chosen. No one, no circumstance, nothing can make those truths untrue.
You are deeply loved and seen by Christ. And: you aren’t alone.
Keep clinging to hope. The garden of your life will surely grow new blooms.
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A few weeks ago, we all gathered again. This time, I packed two cards in my carry-on, knowing the roles would soon reverse as we stood around the two women who planned that first beautiful blindside, filling their hands with words to carry into the coming days. Sometimes, our friends hold our hands up. Sometimes, we get to be that friend. But always – always – our friend Jesus remains, a faithful banner of love over every season, present in every storm.
Kaitylin how true are your words in today’s reading. You know what comes to mind is Jesus in the boat fast asleep with the disciples. When the waves roared they began to panic as they thought they were going to drown. So they woke Jesus said do you not care we are going to drown. Jesus answer was brilliant he said ye of little faith. Meaning why don’t you trust even though the wave seem to be getting higher and bigger and raging more in Jesus that he is there in life’s difficulties. That rage over our head to calm them down and tell us what to do and not panic like the disciples did. They were amazed when the disciples saw Jesus clam the water. Like us in life we don’t trust in our Saviour as much as we should we panic that is human for us to do that. Instead of praying and taking it to Jesus to know what to do about our situation. I done that loads of times in my life panicking and saying what do I do. Instead of going to Jesus in prayer. That natural for us to do that. Then in my panic I asked others to pray for me in the situation. Instead of thrusting God. I got back from God by the Holy Spirit. Dawn why did you not come to me first and pray to me about it. Which I should have done. I have said to God sorry I should have I just panicked over it. Two songs comes to mind in these times that have helped me. “Burdens are life’s at Calvary Jesus Is very near” and “What a friend we have in Jesus all our sins and griefs to bear what a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer. Thoes songs say it all. Thank you for today’s excellent read. Pray for you all incourage. Love Dawn Ferguson-Little Co.Fermanagh N.Ireland xx
Dear Kaitlyn……………………..Reading your story today definitely in pretty much my story as well. Too many heartbreaking issues have taken me down in the last 5 years and I have cried until there just are no more tears left. I am living in a Senior Independent Facility, but unfortunately, it is not that kind of living for 95% of the 100 people here. I have a few friends, but I can’t explain what I am going through. They would not understand. I don’t belong here even though I am almost 78 years old. I was married for 54 years to a man who I was forced to marry as he date-raped me and in three weeks I knew I was pregnant. Back in the 60’s, when things like that occurred, the woman was always blamed for it. I was only 21 years old and was just out of college and when I told my parents, I was scared to tell them what really happened which I knew many years later when it was too late, that was a big mistake, he wanted me to get an abortion and he thought that would solve the whole problem; however I said there is one caveat to that and I will NOT get an abortion. The wedding was a mess and the worst day of my life. fast forward to 5 years ago when I noticed that him mind was waning and there was a big fight over going to a doctor. I knew it was the beginnings of dementia and I made him go to 2 neurologists with me. They both verified that I was correct. I stayed with him for 3+ years to try and get him to follow doctor’s orders. He would not and he increased his drinking and every night I was abused until one night he tried to kill me. I knew then something had to be done. Meanwhile, one of the worst heartbreaking thing happened. My 52 year old son at the time called me one night and told me I was a liar and there was nothing wrong with his Dad except old age and he said, “I no longer consider you my mother and furthermore, you will never see your (at that time) 11 year old only grandchild or even speak to him. He hung up and I collapsed in a ball of tears calling to Jesus to please help me. I don’t know what to do. There is so much more to the story, but I already took up enough of your time and maybe you have seen this story before. I had to sell our house of 40 years which really broke my heart too, and I had to find a place to live. I have moved 3 times in the last 2 years and even though this place is bad, I don’t have the strength or courage to even go out and find another better place. I have nobody to help me and age doesn’t help. At 35 I could do it. Over 4 years later, things just keep happening to me, but I do now that I am not really totally alone as Jesus and my Holy Spirit are always with me, but some days, it would be nice to have a person sitting across from me that I could get a hug. Thank you Kaitlyn for your words. I am working and praying to try and get me help to get myself out of this season. Somethings are better, but I have a long way to go. If you would, could you say a prayer for me? Kaitlyn….Have a Blessed weekend………………………Betsy Basile
Kaitlyn, thank you for sharing. Your words soothed an ache in my soul. I feel so alone in my battle, fighting for life with another undiagnosed autoimmune disease. It feels like cancer eating away at my body, my life, my dreams. But at least with cancer you know what you’re fighting. Unfortunately I do not have friends like that anymore. Your words remind me of a time that I did and even though I don’t know you, I could receive your encouragement – a small piece of manna that I desperately needed!
Hugs, Rebecca. Autoimmune diseases suck. So sorry you don’t even get to name this particular enemy. May God make His presence keenly felt in your life today that you might be able to feel and experience the constancy and intensity of His love for you.
Thank you for writing this – and also especially for nothing that sometimes there’s no beautiful bow on the story this side of heaven. Now squirreling away words of comfort and truth!
Honestly, the fact that your story doesn’t have a neat and tidy ending makes your testimony all the more powerful. May God continue to uphold you. Thank you for sharing about the goodness of our God.
Dear Kaitlyn, thank you so much for writing this. Your words both give hope to those in the midst of the storm, and also encourage us to notice and lift up our friends and family who may be fighting a battle. This has given me a wonderful (but hard) idea. What if each day I seek out someone who needs “their arms held up” and speak or write a word of encouragement? I know it won’t be easy, but I’m praying it will bring comfort and honor God. Prayers for you as you continue to walk through your storm, you are a gifted writer and God is using you to touch people that need to feel His love.