Jen Oshman

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Brokenhearted

It's been a painful week and I am at a loss for many words.  My dad, whom I fiercely love, is very sick.  The really painful part is that extenuating circumstances, outside of my control, make it impossible for my brother and me, along with our spouses and kids, to serve my dad well.  I don't mean to be vague and want to be real with you who care and read this blog, but I can't really say more due to legal, medical, and relational pieces of this heartbreaking situation.  What I can tell you is that my brother--whom I cherish and for whom I have immeasurable love--and I are totally spent and, honestly, feeling hopeless.  Would you please pray for God to intervene and help us? 

I read some Psalms this morning to remind myself of what is true.  This is from Psalm 147: 

He heals the brokenhearted
    and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars
    and calls them each by name.
Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
    his understanding has no limit.
The Lord sustains the humble
    but casts the wicked to the ground.

Sing to the Lord with grateful praise;
    make music to our God on the harp.

He covers the sky with clouds;
    he supplies the earth with rain
    and makes grass grow on the hills.
He provides food for the cattle
    and for the young ravens when they call.

Love these men so, so much.