Let God Know

Dear One,

Every now & again, someone will thank me for naming something they’re experiencing, but can’t find language for. This week a Psalmist has done that very thing for me. Check out the name of Psalm 102: 

“A Prayer of an Afflicted Person Who has Grown Weak and Pours out a Lament Before the Lord.”

 Or if you prefer:

A Prayer of One Whose Life Is Falling to Pieces, and Who Lets God Know Just How Bad It Is.

Ok, a bit long for a name. An editor’s red pen would have a heyday here, but I’m drawn in because whoever this author is, they’re singing my tune.

The Psalmist goes on to describe (or name) their condition and mine:

 “My heart is beaten down like grass withered and scorched in the summer heat …
shrivel up like grass baked hot in the sun. 
I’m withering away and there’s nothing left of me.”

Shriveled up. Withering away. Nothing left.
Named it. Nailed it.

I’m feeling this right now, friend. Like the incredible shrinking woman. Maybe it’s due to being locked inside my house for 5 months now? My life feels like it’s withering and wasting away, like an atrophied muscle from lack of use.

My mind goes to a man in a synagogue. I read about him in Matthew 3. He had a “withered, shriveled, atrophied hand.” Jesus entered the room and saw not only the hand, but the man to whom it belonged. After calling him forward, Jesus asked the man to stretch that lame part right out, not unlike a doctor saying, ‘let’s have a look now, shall we?’ as he examines our broken parts.

And then there’s the prophet Ezekiel who said of his people, “our bones are dried up, our hope is gone, there’s nothing left of us.” (Ezekiel 37:11)

The psalmist’s heart. The man’s hand. The people’s hope.
Shriveled up. Withering away. Nothing left. 
Heart. Hand. Hope.

Dear One, friend of mine, is there anything in you that’s dried right up in the drought of these days? 

If so, Let God Know.
Like the Psalmist did, Let God know. 

Like the lame man did, stretch it out and hold it there, right before God’s very eyes. Whatever is weak, whatever is weary, whatever is withered or worn. Name it in His presence. Let God know. 

Let God Know: Our Little Life Words of the week. 



  • If you were to write a prayer to God, what name would you give the prayer?


  • Practice naming your feelings (to God, yourself, a trusted friend) as a way to hold out (rather than hide) what may need healing. 


  • Our song of the week is: Worn by Tenth Ave North.


  • Stretch out to Jesus anything weak, weary, or withered in hope of restoration. 
  • Try writing your own prayer of lament. 

Friend, here in PA we’ve had weeks of hot, dry weather. As I pen these words, however, the rain is falling down all over the sun-baked earth. The grass is sighing & singing & coming back to life and I find myself praying the same for you. For me. May all that’s withering be made well as we stretch it out to God. 

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