It all started when our marriage fell apart. In the midst of disaster, my husband, Brooke, and I fell to our knees and began to pray regularly together in a desperate attempt to put the pieces back together.

Early in our marriage we had periodically tried to pray as a couple but it usually began late at night with one of us longing for the other to initiate it and ended with both of us falling asleep before it was over. However, the crisis that came in years 10-12 of our marriage brought us to a place of willingness to do whatever it took to find healing and restoration, so we began a habit of nearly daily prayer.

This habit born of desperation started as a way for us to reconnect and begin our days on the same page, and it did not disappoint. We threw fancy and formal out the door and instead came to God raw and real. There was no formula or legalism, just earnestness. Some mornings Brooke had to leave for work around 6:00am so he would wake me up at 5:55am. We’d talk to God together for five minutes and then I’d fall back to sleep (or not, but it was worth it.) We brought the Lord our worries and asked Him to work miracles in our lives and marriage. We brought Him our frustrations and confessed even our occasional lack of desire to pray together. We gave Him our children and our future and asked Him to grow His character in all of us. We asked for direction and hope and encouragement and lifted up the needs of our friends and extended family. Where our hearts were shredded God used our consistent prayer time to make them whole and knit our marriage back together again. It was messy, because we are messy—but that is the best way to come to God. When we came without answers and without pride, we found hope.

Read the rest here:  http://www.journeyguy.com/their-story-sarah-beyer/#KmaPwBoOvJScdyJq.99

To The Wounded

Lately, God has been whispering to me about relational brokenness, particularly that caused by fathers and husbands, and why it hurts so much. One day last fall, I was doing dishes, thinking about a person I know who is somewhat difficult to be in relationship with and God began to speak to my heart about the roots of brokenness in her life that make it difficult for her to have healthy relationships. As He unpeeled the layers of hurt she has experienced, I began to weep over my pots and pans. My heart was overwhelmed with empathy for the pain in her life and also by the compassion and tenderness that I could sense God has for her. With the Holy Spirit heavy on me, I abandoned my dishes and got out my journal to record what I felt He was showing me. This is not a comprehensive study on the subject of relational brokenness, as there are many wounds caused by mothers, and many wounds that men bear as well. It is merely a glimpse into the window that God opened in my heart for this particularly painful kind of brokenness. This is what I wrote, with just a few minor edits to make it flow better:


We all have a deep need for an earthly father who provides three things:

1. Security – “You are safe.”

2. Leadership – “Follow me as I follow God.”

3. Unconditional Love – “I love you just as you are.”

When one or more of these needs is left unmet, whether by hurtful words, abandonment, passivity, selfishness or something else, a wound is created and a heart is broken. When women get married, our fathers, figuratively and sometimes literally, give our hand to our husband and those needs transfer to the husband as well. Because we now need the same three things from our husband that we needed from our father, a weak husband has the same effect as a weak father. God refers to Himself as our Father and to Jesus as the Husband of the Church–both earthly relationships were meant to be a reflection of God’s love for us, and both have the potential to cause great pain.

Out of a father’s weakness, we are wounded. The little girl who was supposed to know she is cherished and safe and valued is left alone and broken. She feels worthless and ugly and unsafe and unchosen. She tries to create security and love for herself by being valuable to others. She unknowingly marries a man like her father hoping for a better outcome this time or because she doesn’t expect any better. She gives tremendous amounts of love so she will receive it in return. People who don’t return it with the same depth are cut out. It feels like rejection to her–or a waste of time–because her impossibly deep love-need isn’t being filled by them.

The original Garden Plan, lived for a time by Adam and Eve, was for her to walk in perfect intimacy with all—her father, her husband and her One True Father. The earthly relationships would bring joy that only deepened her joy in her One True Father. Her needs would’ve been met, her heart full to pour out for the joy of others instead of as a cry, begging to be loved back.

But the Garden Plan broke when the people lost trust in their One True Father. And now all the broken fathers and husbands produce broken wives and children. But the brokenness can point us to the Father too. Just as the intimate, whole relationships with father and husband point to the One True Father, so do the broken ones. Where there is earthly brokenness there is great potential to see the One True Father/Husband just as He is—the only One who can really provide true security, love and leadership. The Only One who will never fail us. The One whose love is never dependent on our doing but is just because of our being. The One who never changes, but who gives up everything—His own Son—His own life—to bring us back to wholeness. It is through His own pain that we are able to have whole relationships on earth again. But they will never be a replacement for the One True Father/Husband love that He gives.


We must tuck under His wing and find refuge.

We must believe He loves us unconditionally and will keep us safe.

We must give Him our pain and fears and let Him make beauty out of them.

We must yield our hearts and trust Him completely even when we feel like we are walking in the dark.

We must remember we can’t see the whole picture, but He can.

We must give Him our husbands and fathers and allow Him to handle them.

We must let Him help us forgive.

We must offer love as a gift, not as a bartering tool.

We must ask for compassion for those that have hurt us and trust Him with our hearts as we offer it.

We must let His nurturing make us strong.


To you with a broken heart, you who carry wounds from your father or husband, you who find yourself reading this today, I believe God is standing before you saying:

I see you.

I’m sorry that the people I put in your life to take care of you and to reflect my love for you have wounded you instead.

But know this—I have never changed.

I am your Security.

I am the One who loves you exactly as you are.

I don’t need you to perform for me. I just want you to let me hold you.

I will show you the way to go if you yield to my way.

Trust me.

I am your One True Father.

Ten days ago we left home at 6am and began a 15-hour drive to spend Christmas with our families in Kansas City. Our Yukon was packed to the gills with presents and bags and car activities and more shoes than a whole herd of elephants would need if they wore shoes. It was a very long, arduous journey fraught with heavy rains, restless children, flash floods in Indiana, and a 30-degree temperature drop across seven states. We pressed on, leaning toward the reward of precious time with people we love, but fourteen hours into the trip, while we were driving 65 mph on I-70, the rain abruptly stopped and the water on the road immediately turned to a sheet of ice. The car in front of us spun off the road into the median and looked like it was going to ricochet back into us so Brooke cautiously moved our car toward the right shoulder to avoid them. Unfortunately, there was no controlling the car on the icy road and we began to spin, went off the road into the ditch, hit the embankment backwards and then forward (I think), and then the car flipped onto its passenger side. It was the most surreal, terrifying experience of my life. I don’t know if I will ever get over seeing my kids hanging from their seatbelts or the fear that I felt when we were spinning. There was a very real possibility that we were still in danger on the side of the road as other cars continued to drive by and I began obsessing over that fact as Brooke and I looked at each other trying to figure out how we were going to get safely out of the car. The girls say the scariest part was when I started yelling/praying loudly, “God help us!” right before we went off the road. I think the scariest part was when another car started flipping down the shoulder of the highway heading right for my children as they were being put into another car by the kindest strangers I’ve ever met. No lie, it felt like the apocalypse.

There are many things I am still traumatized about from the wreck, but there are also many things I continue to marvel over. One of those is the incredible self-sacrifice of the strangers that stopped to help us. Less than 30 seconds after our car landed there was a man at the driver’s side window ready to help Brooke get us all out. He was joined quickly by about a dozen other strangers who helped pull Julius and Brooke and I out of the window and the girls out the back doors. They covered us with blankets and gave us their own coats and hats. A couple of the men were middle school and elementary school principals from Indiana who were driving into Kansas City for the Chiefs-Colts game. One of them held Faith for about 30 minutes while we tried to find her shoes. Their generosity in stopping to help was overwhelming and their willingness to stay as long as necessary was beyond comprehension. I have no idea how any of them managed to safely pull off the road without ending up in the ditch themselves. I also don’t have any idea who the rest of the people were or whether or not they made it safely to their destinations, but I am incredibly grateful that each of them was there. People are just so kind, y’all.


We ended up with someone’s Colts t-shirt as a “souvenir.” I couldn’t be sorry the Colts beat the Chiefs the next day cause these guys deserved a win after all they did for us! Sorry Dad.

After we were pulled from the Yukon, avoided being crushed by the flipping car, and climbed the embankment to safety, an ambulance drove up along the frontage road and we all loaded up in it. It took a long time to finish up the procedural stuff that goes along with an accident but eventually the ambulance drove us to a motel about five miles away and we gratefully camped out for the night. Miraculously, we were all not only alive, but also completely unharmed. Equally as miraculous is the fact that our Yukon sustained only a few minor dents and two tires pulled off the rims. We had to leave it overnight and have it flipped and towed the next day but we are beyond grateful that it still runs. In fact, I am writing this from the car, while driving back home. Crazy.


The Yukon after it was flipped back up and towed from the highway. Not too bad, you ol’ girl.


Anna searching desperately for her cell phone. The important stuff, ya know? The dent above this tire is the only major one.


The back tires were both off their rims but once we got them back on and aired them up, they weren’t even damaged.

I don’t know all that God did to protect us that night, but I believe that He did. About 30 minutes before the wreck our fuel gauge inexplicably dropped to empty. We were forced to pull off the highway and top off the tank just to be sure we didn’t run out of gas. As soon as we pulled into the gas station it jumped back to full. I don’t want to over-spiritualize things, but the reality is that if we hadn’t pulled off then, we’d probably have hit ice a couple of miles further ahead where there were enormous drop-offs on both sides of the highway. Instead, when we went off the road we ran into an uphill slope that kept us from going any further and had easy frontage road access. I can’t help but feel that God had us right where He wanted us—even though that somewhere was a ditch. I am tremendously grateful He has given us more time together on this earth and for the fact that He was with us at every moment. My fickle heart is tempted to cave into the fear that has licked at my heels for the last week, but I know deep in my soul that I am no less secure now than I was before. Coming face-to-face with my mortality and that of my whole family has left it’s mark, but I’m hopeful that it will be a mark that leads me to deeper faith in the only God who can provide true security. We will die someday. It’s not a maybe, but a certainty. I believe that our faith in Jesus and His death and resurrection means that we will spend eternity with God. There is nothing I can do to earn my way there or stop death from coming when it is time—but I can yield to the One who loves me completely and who holds my days in His hands. I can feel Him gently nudging me to just keep doing the hard things, like getting back in the car, which was HARD, and trusting Him to take care of us no matter what happens. I’m thankful He will be with me for all that.

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Romans 12:12


Survivors, looking bedraggled, and in Julius’ case, annoyed, but grateful to be alive. Thanks to Brooke’s parents and brother Brady for bringing us home on Sunday and helping Brooke put the car back together!