Sweet in the Bitter

The first few weeks of 2015 have been–to put it mildly–a bit bumpy. I don’t have permission from the people involved to share the whole story with you, but what I can say is this:

I found the sweet part of what’s been such a bitter taste in my mouth.

Sweet in BitterI’ve cried. I’ve prayed. Both in equal measure. I’ve felt like a novice swimmer trying to escape a torrent of ocean waves, pummeled as I try to reach the safety of shore. Because of the delicate nature of what we’ve been facing, the need for privacy has forced us to maintain a “nothing’s wrong” posture in the rest of our lives. Which is exhausting in it’s own special way.

Yet the desperate quality of my prayers (and tears) has acquainted me with the suffering of others in a way that my regular, less-than-perfect-but-better-than-I-deserve kind of life doesn’t. I have found myself praying for those in my circles who are also suffering more frequently, and with much more heart, than I customarily do. I am attuned to their needs in a way I normally am not simply because I can’t bring myself to leave the foot of the Cross.  

I’ve been tenderly touched by the knowledge that I am not alone. Hardship, especially when it cannot be shared, can be so isolating. Please don’t misunderstand me: I wouldn’t wish pain and heartache on anyone, but there is something especially sweet to my soul about the commiseration of a heart that understands. Nobody walks the same road as another… not really. But there’s something merciful about the way God orchestrated community, the sharing of burdens, and the privilege of intercession.

[Tweet “There is mercy in community, sharing of burdens and intercession. “]

It’s made me think again about the Incarnation. God’s loving decision to put on flesh and know our sorrows Himself (Isaiah 53:3). He is acquainted with our pain, our temptations, the feelings of being abandoned, losing a friend to death, failed evangelism, being taken advantage of, and being misunderstood.

He knows our hurt and loves us deeply in the midst of it. 

I don’t think Jesus needs reminders to care for us. But His time clothed in skin undoubtedly acquainted Him with experiential understanding of the pangs of human existence in a fallen world. In this He becomes relatable to us.

I’d gladly have God eradicate the struggles touching the lives of those I love. Yet I continue to trust in His redemption and ability to use even the hard things for His glory (Romans 8:28).

The sweetest part of all that is bitter in life at this moment is knowing Jesus better and finding a deeper sense of community among those for whom I pray.

How can I be praying for you? Comment below or send me a private message. You will be prayed for, friends; I’m doing a lot of that right now. 

16 Comments

  1. Jen on January 24, 2015 at 3:55 pm

    Beautifully and eloquently stated. Love you, my friend.



    • Kirsten Holmberg on January 26, 2015 at 10:28 am

      Thank you, Jennifer. I only wish I could make all the problems dissipate with eloquent words. :-/



  2. Jen on January 24, 2015 at 3:55 pm

    Beautifully and eloquently stated. Love you, my friend.



    • Kirsten Holmberg on January 26, 2015 at 10:28 am

      Thank you, Jennifer. I only wish I could make all the problems dissipate with eloquent words. :-/



  3. Jen on January 24, 2015 at 3:55 pm

    Beautifully and eloquently stated. Love you, my friend.



    • Kirsten Holmberg on January 26, 2015 at 10:28 am

      Thank you, Jennifer. I only wish I could make all the problems dissipate with eloquent words. :-/



  4. Anita on January 26, 2015 at 10:04 am

    I know exactly how you feel–the desperately wanting prayer to give me strength for a season of drowning, yet the need to protect the privacy and put on a front. It’s so hard. My heart goes out to you–as do my prayers. God is in control–of both the waves and lifeboats. May his mercies shine through the fog and the wind and waves of the storm that you currently find yourself in.



    • Kirsten Holmberg on January 26, 2015 at 10:27 am

      Thanks, Anita — you summed it up perfectly. Thanks for your prayers and the reminder that He is faithful in the midst of all the storms.



  5. Anita on January 26, 2015 at 10:04 am

    I know exactly how you feel–the desperately wanting prayer to give me strength for a season of drowning, yet the need to protect the privacy and put on a front. It’s so hard. My heart goes out to you–as do my prayers. God is in control–of both the waves and lifeboats. May his mercies shine through the fog and the wind and waves of the storm that you currently find yourself in.



    • Kirsten Holmberg on January 26, 2015 at 10:27 am

      Thanks, Anita — you summed it up perfectly. Thanks for your prayers and the reminder that He is faithful in the midst of all the storms.



  6. Anita on January 26, 2015 at 10:04 am

    I know exactly how you feel–the desperately wanting prayer to give me strength for a season of drowning, yet the need to protect the privacy and put on a front. It’s so hard. My heart goes out to you–as do my prayers. God is in control–of both the waves and lifeboats. May his mercies shine through the fog and the wind and waves of the storm that you currently find yourself in.



    • Kirsten Holmberg on January 26, 2015 at 10:27 am

      Thanks, Anita — you summed it up perfectly. Thanks for your prayers and the reminder that He is faithful in the midst of all the storms.



  7. bluecottonmemory on January 26, 2015 at 8:58 pm

    It’s been a bumpy, bittersweet season for me, too – and I understand how some parts of the stories aren’t ours to tell – but it is so important to share, like you do – how we find the courage, grace and faith to endure in the challenge! Wishing you restful sleep and joy-catching moments in the wait of a prayer sent out!
    ~Maryleigh