Groanings Which Cannot Be Uttered

July 16, 2014

By Philip Martin

Today I had something happen to me that really brought home the term “keeping things in proper perspective.”

In art or architectural drawing, the term perspective means “the technique of representing three-dimensional objects and depth relationships on a two-dimensional surface.” In other words, to give it depth of field, the objects that are closer are drawn proportionally bigger to give the impression of nearness. Metaphorically it’s defined as “the ability to perceive things in their actual interrelations or comparative importance.”

Recently the actions of someone very dear to us, whom we had spent a lot of time helping, hurt us very deeply. It hurt us so much that for a while the pain and disappointment was all we could see. We even had to go away for a couple of days to try to get on top of things spiritually. We felt betrayed, taken for granted, and used.

“How could they do that to us after all we’ve done for them? I’ll never help them again.” We wanted to be vindicated. I didn’t see how we were going to get over it. This incident seemed so big to me, it was all I could focus on.

Before going to bed that night I was skimming the news headlines and articles in Yahoo.Ca, and there in the first series of articles was one about the tragic accidental death of a seven-year-old girl who was, at the time, being looked after by family friends. Maybe I shouldn’t have read it before bed, but I did, and the story really affected me.

Shortly after that I went to bed and throughout the night I found myself waking up with this deep groaning inside me for these two families. It was as if I wasn’t capable of finding words to express the sorrow I was feeling for them. Thoughts like, Oh my God, how could you live with that? How do you say you’re sorry? Where do you find the strength to forgive? Where would one begin to pick up the shattered pieces to begin anew? kept running through my mind.

Sometimes I would pray in tongues, but mostly it wasn’t like I was praying; it was more like my spirit, or the Lord’s Spirit, was groaning inside me. The only words I could sometimes say were, “Oh Jesus, please help them.” I prayed that they were Christians and knew the Lord and had Him in their lives to help bear their sorrows. The verse, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words,”1 kept coming to me, and I would think, Are these the “groanings” You’re speaking of here, Lord?

Needless to say, when I woke up I was still troubled in my spirit. I was looking for words of comfort, strength, and reassurance from the Lord that somehow things would be all right, and I guess I was seeking reassurance that my “groanings” were heard and to know that somehow those involved in this tragic loss would find the comfort they needed.

I turned on the Internet and in my email was a notification from the Anchor site of a new post, “The Power of Intercession.” As I read, there it was: my answer from the Lord, the words I needed. My hungry, troubled soul drank them in:

Prayers go out among the people. They touch, they heal, they mend. They give strength and courage. They lift up those who are down. They touch and heal hearts and bodies and minds. They wash away doubts and fears and worries. They wash away bitterness, envy, jealousy and strife. They kiss away heartache and misunderstandings. They soothe hurts, heal wounds, and remove scars.

Prayers guard and protect and hide away in safekeeping. They comfort and soothe and bring peace and calm. They feed, they clothe, and bring abundant supply. They inspire, they bring cheer, they bring laughter and good fortune. They encourage, they lift up, they motivate, they enrapture. They energize, they empower, they invigorate, they spark life. They shed light, they give hope. They stabilize and they make wise, they make firm and sound and steady.—Jesus, speaking in prophecy

In the light of what these people must be suffering, I realized the hurt and emotional pain I was experiencing seemed so minuscule. It was now in “proper perspective” and no longer blotting the light of the Lord’s will out of my vision. I also realized how blessed I was to know the Lord and to be able to carry my cares, problems, disappointments and heartaches to Him and know that He hears me and cares and will never allow me to be tempted or tried above what I’m able to bear.

After pausing for a bit just to meditate on the goodness of God for a moment and to sort of bask in the light of His comforting words, I opened a book that I’ve been reading for my devotions called Like Christ by Andrew Murray. As I opened it to where I had left off from my previous reading, the chapter I was to read today was “Like Christ: In Suffering Wrong.”

God’s timing is so perfect. Probably if I had read this the day before, I would have missed the beauty of the truth these words contained, because my spirit wasn’t in the proper place to receive their comforting light. As I read, the words seemed to come alive, and the more I read, the more I was set free. Here’s an excerpt: 

There is almost nothing harder to bear than injustice from our fellow-men. It is not only the loss and pain: there is the feeling of humiliation and injustice, and the consciousness of our rights asserts itself.

His (Jesus’) first thought was not how to be delivered from it, but how to glorify God in it. This enabled Him to bear the greatest injustice quietly. He saw God’s hand in it.

Accustom yourself in everything that happens, to recognise the hand and will of God. God allows me to come into this trouble to see if I shall glorify Him in it. This trial, be it the greatest or least, is allowed by God, and is His will concerning, me. Let me first recognise and submit to God’s will in it. Then in the rest of soul which this gives, I shall receive wisdom to know how to behave in it. With my eye turned from man to God, suffering wrong is not as hard as it seems.

He, who lives in the eternal, and as seeing the Invisible, is satisfied to leave the vindication of his rights and honour in God’s hands; he knows that they are safe with Him. Give your right and your honour into God’s keeping.

Lord my God, I would now, once for all, give up the keeping of my honour and my rights into Thy hands, never more again myself to take charge of them. Thou wilt care for them most perfectly. May my only care be the honour and the rights of my Lord!2

Amen! 


1 Romans 8:26 ESV.

2 Andrew Murray’s Like Christ (1901) is public domain and free online at a number of sites, including http://www.forgottenword.org/commentaries/murray_like_christ.pdf and http://www.swartzentrover.com/cotor/e-books/christ/Murray/LikeChrist/Like%20Christ.pdf.

Copyright © 2024 The Family International