Cry for Relief

I love church.
Sometimes, in fact, most times, the pastor speaks on something that has been a burden on my heart. Yesterday he spoke about a burden I carried for a friend. I knew God was once again speaking directly to me in such a way that I felt better equipped to help my friend. I have heard many people express this sentiment. I don't know how God manages to speak to each person individually in a church of 5,000 people, but He does.

When I got home, I got a call that a national blog radio group wants to interview me. I will be live on May 7, 11-12 on blogtalkradio.com, Grace cafe. As soon as I got off the phone, I developed heart palpitations and began sweating all the way down to my big toe. However, I am very grateful for the chance to trip over my tongue to a national audience.

I am not a speaker. I am a writer. (And no, that is not open for debate.) I have two projects in the hopper right now. One is the book about my old friend, a WWII veteran. The second is still top secret in case the 1.3 people who care about the subject steal my idea. I can divulge that it is on a highly technical topic that I researched years ago. At that time, I wrote an article, after extensive interviews and note taking. My highly trained assistant was my 7 year old daughter, who aided me by passing me questions scribbled on lady bug note paper. Somewhere along one of our unbacked computer crashes, I lost the article. But I found the notes a few days ago. I have another interview set up with one of the critical figures in the field. I thought I had better review the notes I had taken 7 years ago so that this critical figure in the field doesn't think I am as clueless as I might appear were I not so finely accomplished at bluffing. So I settled down, full of myself after the call from the national blog radio coordinator, and began to peruse my notes.
I can honestly say I understood about ten words of the entire interview. Those ten were: "Hello, thanks for taking the time to chat with me."

Did I ever really understand the 20 pages of technical mumbo jumbo that I had written 7 years ago? I know I wrote an article, which the expert proof-read and said was one of the best he'd read on the subject. What happened in 7 years to my powers of mental agility?
Fortunately, I do have a consultant who has promised to help me.
However, who will help me string a coherent sentence together May 7....?

And I thought back to my morning at church. I had not asked God for help with my friend and her struggles. I had certainly asked Him to help *her*, but hadn't realized that perhaps I needed to understand better how *I* could be His hands. Even when I didn't know that I needed help, God was reaching in and gently nudging me to the next fumbling step. How much more willing He must be when I cry out knowing how much help I need?! I am afraid, but I am not alone.

Lamentations 3: 24-31, 56-58
I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him." The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord. It is good for a man to bear the yoke
while he is young. Let him sit alone in silence,
for the Lord has laid it on him. Let him bury his face in the dust—
there may yet be hope. Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him,
and let him be filled with disgrace. For no one is cast off
by the Lord forever.
You heard my plea: "Do not close your ears
to my cry for relief." You came near when I called you,
and you said, "Do not fear." You, Lord, took up my case;
you redeemed my life.





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