“Is there more than just shame at the end of this rope?” It had been an exceptionally hard day, and coming from someone battling Cancer for the third time, that was really saying something. Treatment had been especially brutal, and I was in desperate need of support. I logged onto Facebook, and posted a simple request for prayer from my community, something I rarely resort to. After just a few minutes, one short comment succeeded only in adding insult to injury… Come on now, Michele, it’s not that bad. You can still walk. You’re not in a wheelchair. Toughen up. You’ll be fine. Now, I understand this woman’s approach, because I too have attempted to buoy another’s faith by urging them to dig-deeper, try harder. However, I’ve since begun to recognize that the last thing a person needs amidst pain and hardship is to be instructed to simply have more faith. In fact, instructing the sufferer to attempt a forced-lightness, typically results in simply adding to the weight of their already too-heavy burden. “In my attempt to try to get them to pull themselves up by the bootstraps and find new strength, I load them down with shame.” In chapter six of Relentless, you will read about a God who is with the one at the end of her rope. But wait… “Is it okay for Christians to reach the end of themselves?”  Is that even allowed? We find examples of faithful, wise, obedient Christian believers throughout scripture who wept and mourned deeply (Jeremiah), despaired of life itself (Paul), and sweat blood out of sheer agony (Jesus). Yet, as Christians, we often find ourselves on one of two sides of the same coin. We conceal the cracks in our foundations with fancy rugs and flowery phrases, or we run out of patience for people who refuse to wrap up their grief in a tidy package with a pretty bow. “One of the most dangerous Christian practices & expectations is the compulsion to present a put-together, unflappable faith. On the whole, we haven’t done a very good job of making space for a struggle that lasts longer than we think it should. We may give the struggler grace for a day, a week, a month, a year, but sooner than later we decide it’s high-time she pulled it together. This pressure, whether spoken or unspoken, only pushes the sufferer to hide & neglect the long, hard process of healing.” That one, simple, likely well-intentioned, Facebook comment not only failed to bolster my strength, but actually left me feeling more alone, more pain, more guilt for not being strong enough to handle this suffering on my own. After reading a sister’s words, I was both buried in shame and determined to never ask for help again. I hate to say it out loud, but the truth is as followers of Jesus we will likely find the end of our ropes more than once in a lifetime. Thankfully, God’s response to Elijah’s despair provides the perfect example for us to follow, when a loved one is smack-dab in the middle of a season (or moment) of suffering. After Elijah’s life was threatened, after he ran, collapsed, and prayed to God that he would rather die… God’s response to his prophet was a speech about personal holiness, a recollection of shortcomings, rebuking sin, and quoting scripture.  No, rather than reprimand, God nourished the prophet’s body and soul. He touches, feeds, and hydrates the prophet, twice. God recognizes our need for his presence and provision, “because the journey is too much for you.” I want you to look for God’s presence at the end of your rope. Where shame, guilt, embarrassment, doubt, and heartbreak scream, listen for the whisper of God’s gracious response to your weariness.