Click here to hear me read it
Blessed are the desperate
How are you feeling? I’m writing this the day after Boris’ roadmap to freedom has been unleashed upon the UK. As I waited for his words yesterday I was on the edge of my seat, heart in hands. The best word for it is desperate.
The last few weeks have seen me desperate quite a lot. Desperate for my children to listen to me. Desperate for sunshine. For spring. Desperate for some colour in my life. Desperate to see my friends. Desperate for a wee after chain drinking cups of tea. Desperate for change. For good news.
It’s a horrible feeling. Such an uncontrolled, panicky place to be. It is admitting an overwhelming desire for something, but not being empowered to do anything about it. It is something we avoid.
Talk yourself down.
Distract yourself.
Find something to fit the gap.
Don’t. Loose. it.
But what do I really need?
Is it the things I think I need? Head space? My kitchen table back? A way out?
Canal walk
Fighting back tears and struggling to stop my breaths rising so high in my chest, I storm from the house. Where am I going? No idea. But God, I am angry. You told me you’d be enough! I wrote a flipping poem about all the beautiful magic you did in 2020 and how you never left my side. But what are you doing now? Where’s my pocket sunshine and my piece of lovely? I hate this. I hate it. And I need out. I need you to DO SOMETHING.
I imagine Jesus’ face as he receives my tirade. Perhaps he is much happier than I expect. Great, he says. She’s talking to me.
Blessed are the desperate because they will actually pray.
And bonus! - be heard. The desperate will be heard.
“I love the Lord because he hears my prayers and answers them. Because he bends down and listens, I will pray as long as I breathe!”
Psalm 116:1-2
I walk along the canal. What a special place a canal is! All the secrecy of an alleyway with all the busy wildlife of a river. My heart starts to unwind. I’ve been heard. What a powerful thing that is! I’ve spoken and I’ve been heard. And then I see him. A gorgeous handful of a kingfisher, sitting there on the bank. I stand and look at him. Like fire or water, his wings seem to be made of something more special than everything around him. They catch the light. I’ve never seen a kingfisher in person before, and you can’t put the flashing iridescence of their wings on paper. Magic.
As I stand there, other people walk by. But no one else notices the kingfisher. He is sitting there, proud as you like. But not one person looks to see why I am standing in the middle of the path staring. Weird. It’s like I’m in a separate world no one else can see or access. Do I look crazy? I genuinely do not care. Because this is the real stuff. This is for me.
Blessed are the desperate, because they will see God.
When I haven’t prayed, I do not look. When I haven’t prayed, I don’t see the answer to my prayers stitched into the world around me. When I haven’t prayed, I think things are nice coincidence, but I don’t recognise they are for me. Only when we are desperate enough to pray, to engage our hearts, do we get to see his face in the darkest places.
Searching for light
Sometimes God gives us light without us asking. We wake up and the sun is beaming through our windows and we smile and sigh and thank him for a new day.
Sometimes we are struggling for a night, but then we hear his voice and look up to the sky is lit with his far flung stars.
But sometimes we are crawling on our hands and knees, through ash black tunnels of dirt, searching for the light. Searching desperately through the mess to see where, where is he? Where is hope? It is there that we uncover buried treasure.
Blessed are the desperate, because they find the rarest treasures.
When the light is difficult to be found. When we have to wait.
When it’s uphill all the way.
How much more is that treasure worth to us! How much more spectacular the view! How much more tenderly do we hold the gift, when it has us at the end of our own resources, when we weren’t sure we could make it.
The closest moments of intimacy with Jesus; the greatest presence and comfort I have ever known; the clearest words and the deepest connections, have all been born in the darkest, most desperate moments of my life.
Aren’t the first, tiny jewels of spring the most longed for, appreciated flowers?
Jesus pushed through the crowd, crushing him on every side. A woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years, but no one could heal her. She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.
“Who touched me?” Jesus asked.
When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.”
But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”
Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”
Luke 8:43-48
This woman! How amazing was she? She was totally undone by life; so completely at the end of herself that she pushes her bony elbows through the crowd to get to Jesus. She grabs hold of his cloak - as if that could help, but at least it’s something. There are no other options left. She sacrifices her dignity in chasing after Jesus and holding on to his coat tails.
And he sees her! He restores her completely and fully and beautifully. He calls her daughter. He gives her his blessing.
Blessed are the desperate because they will reach out and take hold.
Sometimes I have to get desperate before I will put down my plans, my complicated analysis of the situation, my bright sides which I use to try and make myself feel better.
Sometimes I have to get desperate before I ask for help. I have to be desperate before I will empty my hands, and take hold of his cloak. But then how beautifully blessed am I?
I am always desperate deep down. I just hide it well. I am desperate for love. For acceptance. I am desperate to be safe. I shove it down underneath, when to stay desperate is to have those needs met. Perhaps I can learn to hover here. Every day desperate. Every day blessed.
Jesus I’m desperate for you. You’re the one my heart longs for.
“As the deer pants for water, so I long for you, O God.” Psalm 42:1
(c) Words, recordings and images, Katy Durdant-Hollamby 2021