I have been struggling to breathe, but not from asthma, not from asthma.

I shared a secret, spoke some words, and the words I received back were a mirror I could not stand. I heard the condemnation I carry around in my heart.  I thought I could not survive such a thing, with everything being so very difficult.

• Bearing my boss' enmity
• Working 50 or more hours a week, working fast and furious all day long
• Facing the secrets I long to share, but wish to remain hidden
• Enduring night after night filled with nightmares and night terrors
• Having a new problem with my heart
• Being afraid all the blooming time
• Battling doubts born of confusion with why I had to leave my old parish
• Miscommunication with the new pastor
• Longing for absolution
• Longing for the Lord's Supper
• Being so weak, so very weak

Looking into that mirror, I did not believe I could ever be a daughter or parishioner or even a Book of Concord study mate.  I feel battered, pressed down on all sides.  

And yet...Pastor F reached out and caught my hand when I turned to flee and Papa Dore dug his heels most firmly into the ground.  I am not sure that I will ever be able to understand either man.  Never could I have imagined such faith and such mercy and such love.

I have written before of the ways that Bettina says "I love you" to me.  I have discovered one way Pastor F does:  he sends me psalms.  He searches the psalter, the prayers of Christ, for the words of my heart and the words I should speak to my Lord and Savior, during such anguish, such despair, such confusion.  He types them up and gives them to me as a most heavenly gift...the mercy of Christ poured over me.

He sent me the following Psalms midday yesterday.  Even drowning in anguish, I could not deny the work of the Holy Spirit as this undershepherd's fingers turned the pages of the Living Word and then danced across the keyboard:

I said, “I will guard my ways,
that I may not sin with my tongue;
I will guard my mouth with a muzzle,
so long as the wicked are in my presence.”

I was mute and silent;
I held my peace to no avail,
and my distress grew worse.
My heart became hot within me.

As I mused, the fire burned;
then I spoke with my tongue:

“O Lord, make me know my end
and what is the measure of my days;
let me know how fleeting I am!

Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths,
and my lifetime is as nothing before you.
Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath!  

Selah
 
Surely a man goes about as a shadow!
Surely for nothing [1] they are in turmoil;
man heaps up wealth and does not know who will gather!

“And now, O Lord, for what do I wait?
My hope is in you.

Deliver me from all my transgressions.
Do not make me the scorn of the fool!

I am mute; I do not open my mouth,
for it is you who have done it.

Remove your stroke from me;
I am spent by the hostility of your hand.

When you discipline a man
with rebukes for sin,
you consume like a moth what is dear to him;
surely all mankind is a mere breath!  

Selah

“Hear my prayer, O Lord,
and give ear to my cry;
hold not your peace at my tears!
For I am a sojourner with you,
a guest, like all my fathers.
Look away from me, that I may smile again,
before I depart and am no more!”

                                             ~Psalm 39

I waited patiently for the Lord;
he inclined to me and heard my cry.
He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God.

Many will see and fear,
and put their trust in the Lord.

Blessed is the man who makes
the Lord his trust,
who does not turn to the proud,
to those who go astray after a lie!
 
You have multiplied, O Lord my God,
your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us;
none can compare with you!
I will proclaim and tell of them,
yet they are more than can be told.

In sacrifice and offering you have not delighted,
but you have given me an open ear. [1]
Burnt offering and sin offering
you have not required.
 
Then I said, “Behold, I have come;
in the scroll of the book it is written of me:
I delight to do your will, O my God;
your law is within my heart.”

I have told the glad news of deliverance [2]
in the great congregation;
behold, I have not restrained my lips,
as you know, O Lord.
I have not hidden your deliverance within my heart;
I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation;
I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness
from the great congregation.

As for you, O Lord, you will not restrain
your mercy from me;
your steadfast love and your faithfulness will
ever preserve me!

For evils have encompassed me
beyond number;
my iniquities have overtaken me,
and I cannot see;
they are more than the hairs of my head;
my heart fails me.

Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me!
O Lord, make haste to help me!

Let those be put to shame and disappointed altogether
who seek to snatch away my life;
let those be turned back and brought to dishonor
who delight in my hurt!
Let those be appalled because of their shame
who say to me, “Aha, Aha!”

But may all who seek you
rejoice and be glad in you;
may those who love your salvation
say continually, “Great is the Lord!”
 
As for me, I am poor and needy,
but the Lord takes thought for me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
do not delay, O my God!

                               ~Psalm 40

I asked Pastor F recently if he believed in miracles.  He replied, "I do believe in miracles, and the greatest of all is the regeneration the Spirit has worked in our hearts which shows us mercy for others and the great gift of forgiveness."

That is who he is, an undershepherd who always, always, always points me to Christ.  Even when he is busy, even when he is fighting his own battles, the miracle of Christ crucified is what he believes, teaches, and confesses.

Of course, maybe it is because he believes in miracles that he and his Lovely Bride can offer one to someone like me.  I do not understand either one of them.  Not at all.

Papa Dore actually speaks the words "I love you" to me all the blooming time, so much so others might think he does so too much; I believe he could speak them more.  But he also tells me that he loves me in many other ways.  He tells me he loves me by praying Compline with me every night and by waking me most days with an email filled with the Living Word.  He tells me he loves me by calling me while driving to or from appointments when he has a spare moment to talk or to listen.  He tells me he loves me by pouring Gospel over me so very many ways, so very gently, and doing so again and again and again so very patiently.  And he tells me he loves me by chasing after me when I run away in fear.  I am humbled by the mercy of Christ showering down upon me through his entire family.  Truly, I am.

The latest way that Papa Dore tells me that he loves me is a most favorite of mine:  he writes me verses to Jesus Came, The Heavens Adoring:

Jesus comes with rescue for us
     from the foe who haunts our soul
Grants to us His perfect healing,
     binds our wounds and makes us whole
Alleluia, Alleluia
     Balm of Gilead in full

Jesus comes, the Royal Bridegroom,
     comes to call His holy Bride,
Dresses her in festal garments,
     washed in water from His side.
Alleluia, Alleluia
     Faithful, hers He shall abide.

Jesus comes delighting o'er us
   by His mercy, grace and peace
Jesus comes to bear our weakness
   so that we might share His strength
Alleluia, Alleluia
   Comes to give us His own place

Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief!