Disclaimer: I'm a verbal processor and this post is about me figuring out some things that I thought maybe someone else might benefit from too. I don't claim to have it all figured out, this is only my journey...
The past two days I have spent time praying for one specific situation as if it was the only thing I have had to do. Generally, I really enjoy praying; I like being able to verbally pour my heart out to the only One who can actually orchestrate change, I take real joy in being able to participate with Him in the lives of others through my prayers for them, I value that prayer is often my offering to people in times of need and I think it's loads of fun to help other people experience what prayer can really be! So, in one sense it shouldn't surprise me how miuch I've been praying for this situation.
But, I found myself a bit taken aback at the depth of emotion in my prayers for a situation of the men I count as my "for real Khmer brothers"-yes, we're family through His blood, of course, and we're family because we've chosen to be for each other. I've known these two (who are biological brothers) since my very first day in Cambodia more than five years ago and we have grown, experienced and learned so much together over the years. Truly, my life and who I am today would not be the same without their influence.
Their mom has been in the hospital for more than two days and is in fact currently on the way to Vietnam in an ambulance with these brothers of mine, her two oldest children.
While I haven't spent lots of time personally with this amazing woman (No, really amazing-she survived the Khmer Rouge killing of more than 2 million in the 1970's and has raised four of the most creative, loyal, hope-filled, influential young men many have ever met) I have heard and seen the love her sons have for her during the years. Their love for her has made its way into my own heart.
And, my prayers for her healing (wait.....I'm praying, intently, for physical healing...? Yep.) have been fueled by that love. It surprises me, in such a beautiful way, how their love for their mom combined with our love for each other has brought me to tears over and over again. Not just quiet tears either, but the loud snotty messy kind of tears. The ones that require multiple tissues during and after crying.
The more I've thought about it, mulling over the silly questions of, "Why am I so emotional about this? What is going on?" the louder I hear Jesus tell me, "This is what My heart for my family is like."
Oh.....I'm beginning to get it.... It's been a long time since I've been in a situation with my biological family that has caused me this kind of immediate heart-ache. They don't yet know Jesus and one of the effects of that is that we don't keep in touch very well. Add to that the fact that they live in America and I live in Cambodia. Plus, well, a whole bunch of other factors about their lives that kinda hinder us from being in consistent communication...
Jesus is reminding me that I do have His heart of love for family regardless of the state of my biological one, the kind of love that actually hurts with those you care for and do life with, the kind of love that sits with people in the middle of pain, frustration and confusion that can't be solved, the kind of love that offers only concern and care without any judgement... And, He's also reminding me that this kind of love is very sweet, very generous, very meaningful and at times it costs the price of tears with each other.
I've experienced this kind of love before. And, I've had to work through the deception of the enemy when he tries to tell me that I'm only experiencing "borrowed" love from other families. Now I know that is not the truth at all. Jesus doesn't do "borrowed love", His love, that He pours out through each of us, is meant, fully intended for each of us.
I've experienced praying for people with compassion a lot. I think God can give us compassion for any of His children. When His heart is hurting and we're in tune with His Spirit in us our hearts will hurt, too. I also think compassion is different than love for brothers and sisters. They are different words in many languages including English, Hebrew, Aramaic and Khmer... That kind of love, I think, is built over time, through experience and comes with a knowing-being-known familiarity among each other..
And, this love makes me cry for days as I pray for healing for the mom of my Khmer brothers.
