Gratitude Friday...

A couple of weeks ago, I found a sermon series online and I was determined to watch them.  It was through a local megachurch.  A series by women.

Rare are the days I get to hear a woman from the pulpit.

I started with the last sermon in the series.  Because it was the one at the top and required the least amount of scrolling.

The path of least resistance.

Last Sunday, I finally got around to listening to it.  I have some baby gifts to make for my sweet infertile friend finally pregnant with twins.  So I sat myself down in the playroom/guest room/craft room and went about pulling all of my materials together.

While Charlotte Gambill filled the room.

She titled her sermon, "Doorways, Hallways and Gateways."

It's a short sermon.  Just 30 minutes.  Our pastor can preach 45 or even 47 minutes at a time.  That's a whole workout.  Thirty minutes feels like a breeze.

Yes, I realize it's not.

As I sat there cutting fabric and planning sweet baby gifts, this amazing woman surrounded me with the word of God.

She was preaching from 2 Kings.  Elisha and the Shunammite Woman.

The fact that Charlotte is British and said, "Two Kings," instead of "Second Kings," was too adorable.  I know that's not what she was going for but it made me smile.

If you at all have 30 minutes, please watch/listen/absorb this sermon.

I watched/listened/absorbed twice.

But I'm not done.  Thrice is coming.

Then Monday afternoon, one of my most favorite people in the entire world shared with me something that had been heavy on her.

And it was heavy.  So heavy.

Felt as heavy as the Shunammite woman must have felt when she decided to let go of her dream for a child and give the room to Elisha.  Nope.  No nursery.  Let's give it to God instead.

Felt as heavy as the woman must have felt when Elisha wanted to bless her with that son she had given up on ever holding.  No sir, please don't ask me to hope again.  I've already laid that dream down.

Felt as heavy as the woman's miracle son must have felt in her arms as she carried his lifeless body up to Elisha's empty room.  Heavy with confusion and questions and frustration.

Felt as heavy as the woman must have felt as she closed the door, left her son behind and asked for a donkey from her husband.  Stop asking me questions, dude.  I've got somewhere to be.

Felt as heavy as the woman must have felt when she answered her husband's question about her son with, "It will be well."  No drama here.  It's gonna be fine.

Felt as heavy as the woman riding as fast as she could to reach Elisha.  Heavy with determination and trust and faith.

Felt as heavy as the woman must have felt as she had to put into words what had happened so suddenly to her miracle son.  Because sometimes the heavy is the most difficult to articulate.  But in the telling, the heavy gets shared.

Felt as heavy as the ride back to that room, back to her dead son, back to what she hoped would be his resurrection.  We never really know how God will bring the dead things back to life.  We hope it will be easy and quick and sometimes it is.

Felt as heavy as she waited all those minutes for Elisha as he laid on the boy and prayed.  Because sometimes the resurrection isn't easy and quick but detailed and filled with moments of waiting.

Yeah.  That heavy.

As I was listening to the sermon, I remember thinking how powerful it was but I wasn't sure where I fit into the story.  I mean, I realize I'm somewhere in one of those three areas currently but I kinda felt like the sermon wasn't for me.

And Monday, when I got that news, when I heard the heavy, when I felt the heavy, I knew the sermon, the story of the Shunammite woman wasn't for me.

It was for my friend.

As I prayed for her and asked God for the words, that sermon was at the forefront of my mind.

So my words back to her were about laying the burden on the bed.  Closing the door behind her.  Answering anyone who asked with, "It is well," because it will be.  Saddling up her horse.

And RUNNING TO GOD.

Once again, God reminded me how vital it is for us to share our burdens.  None of us are free of them.  But sharing them, allowing someone else the HONOR of going to the feet of our Savior along side us...THAT eases the heavy.

I am grateful my precious friend shared her heavy with me.

Grateful for the Charlotte Gambill and her powerful presentation.

Grateful the Shunammite woman was nameless so we can see ourselves in her.

Grateful for the stories God shared in His Word.

Grateful how applicable those stories still are thousands of years later.

Grateful we can run to Him with all our heavy.