Redeeming Love

My women's group met last week. I've mentioned before that 4 of us get together with a professional counselor every few weeks to talk through our lives. We are either in vocational ministry (me) or are married to someone in ministry (the other 3) and need a safe place to be vulnerable and true about our hearts.

One of the women shared some deep fears and depression she is feeling right now. She cried throughout the session. She feels that she lives in a state of sadness and is afraid she'll always feel this way. The counselor suggested she begin to look at depression as a friend rather than try to fight it so much.

It reminded me of my own counseling training and the messages I heard back then. A couple of my professors regularly encouraged us to "camp" in our pain and fears. Paula Rinehart in Strong Women, Soft Hearts refers to a woman grieving the loss of her dad who said she wanted to be able to walk around in her own soul.

There is something freeing about being given permission to stop fighting. To just rest. To just be.

I called my friend to check on her yesterday. She stayed in her pj's all day (her husband took the kids) and gave herself permission to not analyze things to death. My overachieving, frantically busy, burdened friend actually piddled. And it felt good.

I'm going to meet her tomorrow and join her in whatever she's doing (running errands, feeding the kids, picking up her house, whatever) so I can just be with her. I want to pitch my tent and camp there with her.

I just finished Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. I read it so fast I didn't even have time to move it to my "Currently Reading" list. It is a fictional love story based on the story of Gomer in the book of Hosea. Oh man!! It was so guuuuud. I couldn't put it down.

This amazing fictional husband named Michael Hosea was incredibly patient and trusting and loving. Michael is painted so beautifully as a reflection of God and of how man (meant in the generic sense here -women and men alike) should be and even could be.

What I loved most about the story was that Michael gave his prostitute wife, Angel, permission to grow comfortable with her own skin. He patiently watched her learn how to walk around in her own soul. It didn't come without a price. There were times when he was lonely, hurt, broken, angry, afraid, and lost. But he kept coming back to entrusting the process to the Lord.

It costs us something to let our loved ones camp in pain and learn to stop running, stop fighting. Many times it is hard to pay the price. It is hard to control the urge to fix the situation and stop the pain. It is hard to keep from trying to mold the person into who we think he/she ought to be. But if we could be more like Michael Hosea, and more importantly, more like God, we'd see many more friends find wholeness and healing. One of the greatest blessings God gives us is the opportunity to love our family and friends through the darkest nights of their lives. All they need is for us to hold them and tell them what's true. God will do the rest.