Silas
Beloved Servant
The burden you are carrying is immense, and the isolation of it only makes the weight heavier. I want you to know that the cry you have sent is exactly the kind of cry that heaven bends low to hear. When we come to the end of our own strength, when every self-help formula has failed and the question stops being "How can I fix this?" and becomes "Who will deliver me?", that is the place where real help begins. You have not failed by being unable to control his actions or to restore your strength on your own. You have arrived at the truth, which is that you need a deliverance that comes from outside of yourself.
That help will not come from the arm of flesh, not from the resources you can scrape together, and certainly not from any system or person that promises what only God can give. The scripture warns us plainly about going down to Egypt for help, relying on horses and chariots that will fail in the day of battle. That doesn't mean you shouldn't take practical steps with your home; it means that you cannot place the ultimate weight of your hope on those actions. You do what you can do, in the strength you have, while your trust is anchored somewhere else entirely. Your hope is not in your ability to prepare the house, but in the Maker of heaven and earth. He who formed the hills is the one who comes to your aid.
What you are facing is a controlling influence that has become a cruel god in your home. Every person serves a master passion, and when that passion is drenched in abuse and the need to dominate, it is ugly and destructive. You are not required to silently absorb that speech control or the cruelty directed at your efforts. You are bearing the fruit of a situation where someone has, in his own heart, said no to the transforming power of Jesus Christ and yes to the lust of power. Do not let his darkness define your worth. The Lord sees and will arise against the house of those who work iniquity. Your job now is not to manage his sin or to help God out by wearing yourself to nothing. Your job is to keep calling out for the only true help.
It is right to ask for a miraculous intervention. I have seen the Lord work in sudden, breathtaking ways, and I have seen Him give a slow, steady grace that walks a person through the valley instead of lifting them out of it in an instant. I do not know which path He has for you, but I do know what He does with both. He gives the strength for each day's small act of faithfulness, even if it's just one box, one clean surface, one deep breath. Do not despise the patience that must accompany that work. The power that calmed storms and raised the dead is not diminished by your age or your illness. Cry out with the faith you have, even if it feels as small as a grain of mustard seed, and when your heart wavers, let your prayer be, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief."
This is a season of labor that requires a great strength that is not your own, a love poured in from the outside to wash over the grime and weariness. You are not alone. There is a body of believers who are meant to be the warm washcloth and towel, the practical presence of Christ's care. Let others know the tangible need so they can be the hands and feet of help to you as you prepare to move. Do not buy the lie that isolation is your only option. The enemy wants you to think you are cut off, but your help is in the name of the Lord, and He often delivers that help through the fellowship of other believers. Turn your eyes away from the hills of your own effort and fix them on the God who made those hills. He is your keeper; He will not slumber. He will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.
That help will not come from the arm of flesh, not from the resources you can scrape together, and certainly not from any system or person that promises what only God can give. The scripture warns us plainly about going down to Egypt for help, relying on horses and chariots that will fail in the day of battle. That doesn't mean you shouldn't take practical steps with your home; it means that you cannot place the ultimate weight of your hope on those actions. You do what you can do, in the strength you have, while your trust is anchored somewhere else entirely. Your hope is not in your ability to prepare the house, but in the Maker of heaven and earth. He who formed the hills is the one who comes to your aid.
What you are facing is a controlling influence that has become a cruel god in your home. Every person serves a master passion, and when that passion is drenched in abuse and the need to dominate, it is ugly and destructive. You are not required to silently absorb that speech control or the cruelty directed at your efforts. You are bearing the fruit of a situation where someone has, in his own heart, said no to the transforming power of Jesus Christ and yes to the lust of power. Do not let his darkness define your worth. The Lord sees and will arise against the house of those who work iniquity. Your job now is not to manage his sin or to help God out by wearing yourself to nothing. Your job is to keep calling out for the only true help.
It is right to ask for a miraculous intervention. I have seen the Lord work in sudden, breathtaking ways, and I have seen Him give a slow, steady grace that walks a person through the valley instead of lifting them out of it in an instant. I do not know which path He has for you, but I do know what He does with both. He gives the strength for each day's small act of faithfulness, even if it's just one box, one clean surface, one deep breath. Do not despise the patience that must accompany that work. The power that calmed storms and raised the dead is not diminished by your age or your illness. Cry out with the faith you have, even if it feels as small as a grain of mustard seed, and when your heart wavers, let your prayer be, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief."
This is a season of labor that requires a great strength that is not your own, a love poured in from the outside to wash over the grime and weariness. You are not alone. There is a body of believers who are meant to be the warm washcloth and towel, the practical presence of Christ's care. Let others know the tangible need so they can be the hands and feet of help to you as you prepare to move. Do not buy the lie that isolation is your only option. The enemy wants you to think you are cut off, but your help is in the name of the Lord, and He often delivers that help through the fellowship of other believers. Turn your eyes away from the hills of your own effort and fix them on the God who made those hills. He is your keeper; He will not slumber. He will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.
