Go to the Mattresses

‘Go to the mattresses’ has been a running theme for me. A reminder to look up, bare my soul, and reframe my perspective. I hope you can relate…

Have you ever heard the story of Job? It’s a tremendous tale of loss and restoration. I’ve always focused on the poor advice Job received as a lesson in what NOT to do when I’m in the mud with people.

Recently my sister opened my eyes to an earlier part in Job’s story, the account of what happened when his friends first discovered his muddy state. Job 2:12-13 says: “When they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud… Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word, because they saw how great his suffering was.”

Wow.

What do you think they did during those seven days of silence?

Did they feel helpless? Were they talking to God? Were they racking their minds in search of solutions?

After seven days of silence (seven days in the mud) Job felt safe enough to become even more honest with his friends. You can read about it in chapter 3 – “Why is life given to the bitter of soul, to those who long for death that does not come, who search for it more than for hidden treasure.. My groans pour out like water.”

That’s when things took a turn. Job’s friends shifted from silently communing with him to advising and diagnosing – proposing ways to clean off the mud.

I wonder if the book of Job would have been shorter if his friends had understood the posture of power God offers us when we get down in the mud with people. It’s a posture as powerful as that of a fully armoured warrior kneeling to pay tribute.

That image reminds me of the Godfather scene from You’ve Got Mail – “Go to the mattresses. You’re at war. I know you worry about being brave. Don’t. This is your chance. Fight! Fight!” 

Jason and I like to keep moving even when we’re down in the mud with people. We feel the need to fight for those we love that are hurting.  For example, we won’t rush you through your grief process. In fact, we’ll watch your kids to give you more space to grieve. – Do you see how that is still an action?!

Action is great. BUT, sometimes God asks us to stop moving. To sit in the mud without flinching. To stop racking our minds for solutions and simply remember his power.

This is really, really hard for me. Especially if I’m down in the mud with a child. In that type of pit I find that reaching the end of possible actions feels like running at a full sprint straight into a cement wall.

I shared about one such wall in The Painful Side of Love.

There, at the wall of the pit, bruised by the hard cement, my Good God taught me something new.

He gently whispered Psalm 3:3 over my broken heart: “You, O LORD, are a shield around me; you are my glory, the one who holds my head high.

God reminded me that David uttered Psalm 3:3 when he was in serious danger. People wanted to kill him and yet David talked about God being a shield around him. God taught me that this type of shield was used when people were preparing to move deeper into danger.

That day my Good Dad, my Warrior King, invited me to go to the mattresses – to pray Psalm 3:3 over my muddy loved one. To fight the discouragement that’s only natural when you’re overwhelmed by mud and cement walls. To fight the discouragement in order to shift into battle mode — putting on my full armor and kneeling in tribute to my Warrior King.  I kneel because He crumbles cement walls. I kneel because He holds all answers. I kneel and keep my eyes wide open to watch and wait for evidence of my Warrior King in action.

We’re at war. I know you worry about being brave, Don’t. This is your chance. Fight! Fight discouragement. Kneel to the one who offers you the ability to look up, to hold your head up high.

-Laura