Tender mercies, not terror

In light of the tragic scenes of trauma everywhere in the world, I just want to write something, anything to help make people feel better instead of analyze the unfolding calamities.

It’s revealing to talk with people now days who’ve not had much experience with trauma, who suddenly find themselves embroiled in unimaginable daily news events which are deeply affecting their hearts and minds. If one has an ear to hear, the fear is becoming an unmistakable stronghold for many.

How do I know this? I have two very old friends: fear and trauma. Yes, they have become my friends, but that’s a story for another day.

Trauma is difficult trial/cross..It can send your emotions into shock, freeze your affections, make your thoughts not sync well, have you question in the dark of the pit you’re thrown in, anything you ever heard in the light. It can make you wonder if God sees and still loves you. Trauma can mess with your head.

When I sit in my prayer corner and I’m “under it,” arms folded across my chest, breathless and overwhelmed with personal or world events, I expect the Lord’s voice in prayer to be thundering. After all, doesn’t He have to speak louder than the whirlwind ?

Sometimes it’s nothing but ‘crickets’.

Other times it’s the famed whisper as in 1 Kings 19:12. I like how the Douay- Rheims says it:

And after the earthquake a fire: the Lord is not in the fire, and after the fire a whistling of a gentle air.

A whistling of gentle air…like a Father who sees His children burdened and straining, He does a most gentle thing. One commentary relates it this way:

Gracious souls are more affected by the tender mercies of the Lord, than by his terrors. The mild voice of Him who speaks from the cross, or the mercy-seat, is accompanied with peculiar power in taking possession of the heart.

Only Christ knows how to deliver a traumatized people because Jesus, the Son of God, suffered the worst kind of trauma anyone could ever endure: His passion and death on the cross. And yet from it He speaks with a mild voice drawing those who bow beneath His mighty wings, inviting them to let Him, not fear, take possession of our hearts.

He cried out–

Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani

So we will never have to.








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