Author Archives: Suzanne Graham

I was struck a few weeks ago by a mural on a wall in the hospital. It was a long wall with a picture of hundreds of floating lanterns scattered across it. I usually stop at something like this and take a picture. I’m struck by it, but I don’t exactly know why. I didn’t think about this wall again until earlier today after reading Galatians 2:20.

“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

This mural came to my mind as I thought about these verses and what it means to be alive in Christ. To be crucified with Christ means to be dead to myself, my pride and my own plans. It means to confess my sins, surrender my life as it is and accept HIM in exchange. To be alive in HIM means I must become nothing so that HE can take over.

The only way a sky lantern can fly is because they are almost weightless. If they weighed any more than 3 ounces, they would not fly. They have to be “nothing” so that when lit, they can become what they were meant to be.

Am I truly willing to become nothing so that Christ can lift me into who I meant to be?

What do I need to let go of so that HIS light can shine and HIS strength can lift me?

And when I start to fly, how do I stay aloft? The power is not in the lantern itself, it is in the fire. All I need to do is surrender and remain weightless.

Sometimes I am at a loss, sometimes I write, and sometimes I sing. A song written out of my desire to remain weightless.

Weightless

Lord, I don’t know what You want, 
But make it my desire. 
Lord, I don’t know what You know, 
But that’s not what You require. 

I want to love what You love, 
See how You see.
I want others to see You in my eyes and not me. 

You answer with gentleness, 
You pull me aside. 
No one can love like You love,
Though they’ve tried. 

Your love runs too deep, 
Too strong, beyond mind. 
And I hear Your voice whisper 
So near and so kind. 

“Let My love lift you, be weightless and rise.
My life is enough, I have heard all your cries. 
Just lean into Me, be still and you’ll see, 
The best way to love, is to be loved by Me.”

Lord, You don’t need me, 
Yet Your love holds my heart.
I don’t need to be enough. 
I’m allowed to fall apart.  

You don’t want a facade, 
A show or a my masks, 
You just want me to be empty,
And surrender my tasks. 

I can’t love others well, 
When my glass isn’t full. 
But if I let You pour in, 
You overflow my soul. 

Again I feel you near, You look in my eyes. 
You know how I feel, You hear all my sighs. 

You answer with gentleness, 
You pull me aside. 
No one can love like You love, 
Though they’ve tried. 

Your love runs too deep, too strong, beyond mind. 
And I hear Your voice whisper so near and so kind. 

“Let my love lift you, be weightless and rise.
My life is enough, I have heard all your cries. 
Just lean into Me, be still and you’ll see, 
The best way to love, is to be loved by Me.”



SG 4-12-22

A Prayer In Pain

“God, help me! Please take this pain away. Please give me some relief! I can’t do this!!!

I know you can! Help me learn from this. Whatever I’m supposed to learn, help me learn. I love you! Thank you. Thank you for loving me, thank you for caring for me. Help me get through this! Help me, God. Just a little. Just a little relief and I’ll know you’re there! If it’s your will God. Oh I love you!” -my 17 year old son son.

Psalm 27: 7 “Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud; Be gracious and compassionate to me and answer me.”

“My God, my God, why have You forsaken me? Far from my help are the words of my groaning. My God, I cry out by day, but You do not answer; And by night, but I have no rest.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭22:1-2‬ ‭

“And He went a little beyond them, and fell on His face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭26:39‬ ‭‬‬

My Prayer In Doubt

“God, how can you allow this? How can you see this pain and let it go on! Don’t you see? How can you hear this sweet cry and allow the agony to continue? Don’t you hear? Are you good? Always? Then where are you? What is your plan here! Help me to see it! Give me a glimpse of your perspective so I don’t crumble!”

“Lord, all my desire is before You; And my sighing is not hidden from You. My heart throbs violently, my strength fails me; And as for the light of my eyes, even that has also gone from me.”

Psalms 38:9-10

God Answers in Love

“When you see it, you will know. I will answer and you’ll know it’s Me. I know this is painful, but I AM the rescue. I know this doesn’t look like love but soon you will know. This will be the brightest light yet. I am glorified in this. I will never leave you alone. The shadows may be long right now, but there is beauty ahead.”

“For He has not despised nor scorned the suffering of the afflicted; Nor has He hidden His face from him; But when he cried to Him for help, He heard.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭22:24‬ ‭

John 16:22

“Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.”

Romans 8:26

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.”

Psalms 31:22

“As for me, I said in my alarm, “I am cut off from Your eyes.” Nevertheless You heard the voice of my supplications when I cried to You for help.”

Psalms 34:17-19

“The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears And rescues them from all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted And saves those who are crushed in spirit. The afflictions of the righteous are many, But the Lord rescues him from them all.”

I don’t spend a lot of time looking up these days. I look down to read, look down at my phone, look down when I walk, and bow my head when I pray. But lately I’ve been feeling God tell me to “Look up.” His word spoke to me this morning in Colossians 3.

(Amplified version of course) “Therefore if you have been raised with Christ to a new life, sharing in His resurrection from the dead, keep seeking the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind and keep focused on the things above the heavenly things, not on things that are on the earth which have only temporal value.”

Lately God has almost been giving me warning of difficult news. I hear him whisper “Look up” just before the blow hits. This happened to me this morning as I waited to meet a friend for coffee outside of Dunkin Donuts. It had just poured rain this morning but the sun was starting to blaze through the clouds. I felt the nudge “look up” and I just sat looking up at the clouds for a moment. After my friend and I talked over iced coffee for 20 minutes or so, I got a call from the hospital that they wanted to do yet another procedure on my teenager with leukemia that I knew would cause him discomfort and anxiety. I could feel myself crumbling but heard Gods voice whisper again “Look up.” I’m so thankful for doctors that are so careful but my heart feels fragile with all the ups and downs. After trying to sound strong on the phone, I threw my head back and looked again at the sky, this time in tears.

“I’m looking up God, but THIS doesn’t feel good!”

There is healing in raw emotion.

I’ve found that looking up is an act of surrender for me. It’s also an act of acceptance. A surrender of what I thought would occur that day and an acceptance of the new challenge ahead.

So many times I feel the need to keep my head down, plunge forward, stay strong, and don’t cry. In a moment like this morning, I felt God speaking. “It’s ok. Don’t look down. Don’t lose heart but let yourself cry. Keep focused on the things above you. I am above you. Look up at the trees. Look up to the hills. My help will come. Look up to the sky. Look up to the ceiling. I’m there in the sterile hospital room as much as I’m there on the edge of the gorgeous Grand Canyon. I’m there in the hallway when you get news you didn’t want to hear. Please look up….I’m bigger than this.”

I told my 9 year old daughter about a place I found that I like to call my “Look up” place. Even though it sounds like something out of a Winnie the Pooh book, there is comfort in a “Look up” place. I like to find a quiet place where I silence my phone, put away my memoirs and bible studies, turn off my podcasts and just sit with Jesus. I found my look up place at the hospital this week. A tiny “Simplicity Garden” in the middle of the hospital where I’ve discovered the sun only shines at 11am. It’s quiet, it’s empty, and it’s secluded. I included a picture of it here.

Later today, after my son’s procedure, I walked slowly behind his hospital bed on wheels back to the pediatric floor. We came around a corner and avoided a collision with a team of nurses. I laughed and looked at the man pushing Adrian’s bed, “That could have ended badly!”

He chuckled as well, shook his head, and pointed to the ceiling.

“Nope, I got my mirrors. They show me what’s around the corner and I don’t have to worry.”

I looked up as well and saw the round mirrors on the ceiling at every hallway intersection we passed.

There is so much value in looking up instead of down. God is just waiting to show us HIS way. I could avoid so many “collisions” in my life if I would just look up more. If I would take every available moment to sit and listen and surrender my plans. If I would look for moments to look up and be still.

Encouraged by the Psalms and David’s raw, heartfelt cry.

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”

Psalms 121:1-2

When my 17 year old son, Adrian, was diagnosed with Leukemia several weeks ago, darkness followed. Medication induced migraines have plagued him for the last 6 weeks. Many days have been spent in a dark bedroom. We’ve hung blackout curtains over the windows and duck taped them to the wall to block any and all light. 

Driving to appointments included the darkest sunglasses we could find and blankets over his head. It has been a difficult, painful, and DARK 6 weeks. 

    In my quiet time with God yesterday morning at the hospital, I prayed for light. I prayed that my sweet son could see some light, some hope, the sun, anything that would bring light into his very dark world. Even in the hospital, his room is dark. Other medication side effects make it difficult to move and to walk. He rarely can escape his darkness. I have sat in this dark room for days, praying, reading, crying, writing, and talking to doctors in hushed voices about possible solutions. 

My Bible reading yesterday morning was John 8:12. Jesus said “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” 

Tears poured down my face as I read this. I felt my heart crying out, “ Jesus, light of the world! Come light up my son’s world! Let him have some relief. Let him feel your presence and comfort today! Let your light shine in today!” 

I am confident God hears when I cry out like this. I just usually expect a longer wait for the answer. 

After a bitter cold Saturday, the sun shone brightly on the hospital playground yesterday afternoon. Adrian suddenly said he felt good enough to get up and walk. We asked a nurse if we could go outside to the playground. We slowly walked down the long hallway and wheeled his IV stand outside with him.  It felt amazing to get out into the sun. Adrian let the sun warm his face and we even played a game of cornhole. I joked that we should go down the slide. He joked that I wouldn’t fit. Obviously, that had to be proven wrong. 

    This may have felt like a somewhat chilly, windy, normal March day for most people. To my teen this day felt like the Light of the world singing, “I hear you. I love you. I am always here. And today I will chase away the darkness for you.” 

    Later, Adrian was able to play guitar and a game of chess with one of his good friends over FaceTime. I felt my heart hurt with joy again. “Thank you, God, for yet another ray of light.” 

Looking for more rays of light today. 

    I’ve had other moments in my life similar to this. Times when light just can’t seem to break through. It seems like I’ve tried just about everything. I usually feel God nudging me. “Have you asked me for light, yet?” 

God wants me to ask for His light. He wants me to stop trying on my own. He wants me to stop turning on all my artificial lights that actually won’t bring any relief; the idols in my life that I think will help but distract from the real life giving light I need. I need Him and only Him and He will chase away the darkness. Maybe just for the day. And I will ask Him for the light again tomorrow.

Overwhelmed as we remember adoption day 2 years ago this week! The day Our family officially grew from 5 to 9 ❤️

I don’t have many words today, but re-reading some things I wrote down that beautiful day in March 2020.

“God’s Adoption Letter To The World”

“The gavel has struck. Everything has been paid for and prepared. I have given you My name. Even if you don’t wish to know Me, I know you and you are Mine. I’ve made the payment, signed the decree, and have stood before the judge Myself. I have secured your future with My life. I didn’t wait for you to sign your name. I’ve already signed Mine. I’ve chosen you. Now you are free to choose me. I already know your every thought, fear and dream. I didn’t adopt you because you are good. I adopted you because I AM good. I AM love. Even when you can’t look Me in the eye, I look at you with love. Even when you turn your shoulder to Me, I’m reaching for you. Even when you curse in My face, I call out your name in love. I’m not calling you to be adopted. You already are.

I am calling you to come be My child. This is a choice. Come join My family and let Me hold you.”

I write when there are words @ #alossforwords7

CONTINUED IN COMMENTS

God has adopted us in advance. Regardless of our desire to know him. He sent the payment, signed the decree, and His own son stood before the judge and declared himself the price for our future. The gavel has struck. He calls to us to join His family. It’s all been paid for and prepared. We are infants. We don’t have anything to offer him. He didn’t wait until we agreed. He didn’t have us sign our name before He signed His. The adoption was finalized in love. We already belong to Him, but He wants us to want Him. He desires a relationship. He calls us to come near to Him. He didn’t adopt us because we are good, likable, or beautiful. He loves us, all of us, because He created us and wants us. Even when we can’t look Him in the eyes, He is looking at us with love. Even when we turn our shoulder to Him, He still reaches for us. Even when we are angry and curse in His face, He calls to us. He isn’t calling us to be adopted: we already are. He is calling us to know him and join his family. He is calling us to be held.

Lately when I’m walking and I see a straight path in front of me, I close my eyes and keep moving forward. Just for a short time. 5 steps or so. I do this while walking to my car from the hospital, walking down the long basement hallway to the hospital cafeteria get my teen his favorite snack, or just walking outside by myself. It’s a time that I can just breathe while simultaneously moving forward. Much like life feels right now. Breathing and surviving while life just keeps spinning. Sometimes I stop and breathe, but I still find the most comfort in the walking. Its a way to let go. Let go of control, let go of fear, let go of my sight and perspective for a moment and just feel at peace.

As I thought about this today, I was reminded of the very familiar 2 Corinthians 5:7 “For we walk by faith, not by sight.” And the Amplified Version which is my favorite. “For we walk by faith, not by sight, living our lives in a manner consistent with our confident belief in God’s promises.”

This makes me wonder if the apostle Paul ever did this. Walking with his eyes closed. As a practice that later spilled into his teachings about what it means to live in faith. I guess someday I can ask him. Maybe someday he and I will be walking with our eyes wide open in heaven, gazing at the glittering sea of glass, or the beautiful colors we’ve never seen before and we’ll say “Remember when we used to walk with our eyes closed? Maybe that was so we could forget the world for a moment and just let Gods peaceful presence and strength encompass us completely like it is now.”

These rambling thoughts are comforting in a time when life is so uncertain and so much is yet to be seen. Sometimes life just keeps moving. We don’t have a say in that. But it brings comfort when I have the choice to move forward in faith, move forward even in fear, move forward in surrender, and sometimes just move forward.….with my eyes closed.

It was a long night. A night of sitting on the bed with a teenager who was learning what it means to be comforted. In reality we were comforting each other. His head on my shoulder was comforting me just as much as it was him. We spent an hour talking about how amazing Jesus is and listening to Lecrae.

At midnight, I went out of the room and realized I had misplaced my knock off air-pods. I had never owned any before and decided to try some out before spending money on them for my kids. (A hard sacrifice…I know.) My oldest son did not know I had bought them and I had them in my pocket while sitting with him on his bed. After searching my room and getting frustrated with myself that I had already lost them literally 6 hours after they showed up in the Amazon box, I went back into my sons room to check on him.

I found him laying in his bed with my Bluetooth earbuds in his hand.

He looked at me with wide eyes.

“I was praying and I think Jesus just gave me AirPods?”

I doubled over in laughter. Trying to stifle it since it was the middle of the night. He started laughing too.

“Are they yours?”

I explained to him that they must have fallen out of my pocket while we were sitting together. We both laughed and laughed.

It was a gift. Laughter amidst pain.

Like the unexpected earbuds he found in his hand, God gives good gifts. And He gives them at just the right time.

(Needless to say, I put in a second order with Amazon.)

James 1:17

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”

I sat for a moment yesterday and thought, I’m going to sit with my kids and color. This is how far I was able to go with my banana scented marker, before I was needed elsewhere. It made me smile when it was pointed out to me. I was able to be still for all of 1 minute and 30 seconds but I still was able to meditate on these two very important words. BE STILL. Even if it’s for a minute, 30 minutes, or an entire day, there is value in being still.

Sometimes it’s a therapeutic massage and aromatherapy and sometimes it’s sitting and coloring scripture with scented markers.

Being still is important, but the second half of the verse is what really speaks to me. “And KNOW that I am God.”

This partially finished coloring page later was turned into a crumpled treasure map by my 3 year old. It’s not what I do when I am still, it’s what I know. Today I KNOW that HE is God.

Something I wrote during a difficult time a year ago is bringing comfort to me today.

God overwhelms me.

HEAVY

Have you ever had something so heavy, so sad, so unexpected hit you so hard that your knees gave way under the weight, your heart gave way under the grief, and your mind could think of nothing else but your loss and the need to feel the solid ground underneath you?

Down on your knees it is quiet. It is scary. It is vulnerable. And then you do feel it. The solid rock beneath you. The quiet heart song in your chest singing, “Its going to be ok.” The “knowing” that HE has this in his hand. A peace that gives you the strength to close your eyes, take one more breath, and slowly get back up.

Until the the next time you fall to your knees. But this time you may not fall so hard knowing what you’ll find there. You may even find yourself wanting to fall down before him again and thinking, “This is where I’m meant to be”.

Admitting weakness is worth every ounce of discomfort if it means receiving the overwhelming, gentle strength and comfort of the One who knows us better than we know ourselves.

“He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you My lovingkindness and My mercy are more than enough—always available—regardless of the situation; for My power is being perfected and is completed and shows itself most effectively in your weakness.” Therefore, I will all the more gladly boast in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may completely enfold me and may dwell in me.”

2 Corinthians 12:9 AMP

I drew this picture of a hand in college in a drawing class. I never liked how it turned out. I thought the hand looked odd and disproportional. But now, this drawing makes me think of this passage in scripture.

In Luke 6, Jesus entered the synagogue and saw a man with a withered hand. His hand was gnarled and useless. When Jesus saw him, and knew the thoughts of the religious leaders who planned to trap Him healing on the sabbath, Jesus lead the man into the middle of the room. I can’t imagine this man was comfortable with this. He was probably used to standing in the corner, or coming in late so no one would see. His hand possibly made people uncomfortable and shift their eyes away. As Jesus led him into the middle of the room, his mind must have been spinning with questions. “Why me?”, Why now?” “Why HERE?” Not only did Jesus lead him into the middle of the room, He said the words the man feared the most.

“Stretch out your hand.”

When I read these words of Jesus, I hear Him speaking:

“Move in faith. Even though you are hurting, even though you have fear, even though others can see, I’m here and want to heal you. Stop worrying about what others think or say. Don’t compare yourself to them. I made your life. I made you. And now I’m asking you to trust me. Reach out to me. I see you and know you and will never leave you.”

I feel encouraged today that Jesus is not repulsed by my insecurities. He isn’t impatient with me, frustrated with me, or annoyed. I can stretch out my hands, my hurts, my shame, my fears and know that He is there to hold them, to comfort and to heal.

The Bible does not say how this man reacted when he was healed, but I would like to think he lifted his hand high for everyone to see and shouted!

(yes! shouted in the synagogue!)

“Look! See what God has done! I’m healed! I’m free! I’m whole! I reached out and HE was there!”

Acts 17:27

“God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us.”