Sighs Too Deep

Michael Andres

May 8, 2025

Reading

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.
Romans 8:26

Reflection

There’s a meme floating around that feels painfully accurate (and who knows what it says about me that the algorithms keep putting it in front of me?).

A patient pours out their heart in therapy—old wounds, random tangents, ominous dreams, tangled thoughts—and the therapist says, “You’re incredibly self-aware.” To which the patient replies, “Yeah. I think that might be part of the problem.”

Sometimes we know our stories so well—how the chapters took shape, which characters developed with kindness, and which ones with pain. We can name exactly why we say and do the things we do in response to others. We may not always be proud of it, but at least we can recognize it for what it is.

Then there are times when we are clueless. Not out of avoidance or deflection, but because there doesn’t seem to be any way—much less an apt one—to give voice to our thoughts and feelings.

Have you found yourself lying awake as the hours tick slowly by in single digits, when the sky has long since greyed but hasn’t yet begun to blue? Have you driven from one place to another, put one foot in front of the other, unsure of why or how you arrived? Has your Bible sat open in front of you, or your hands been clasped tight in prayer, and then—with heart and body ready—all you do is sit?

It’s a wordless ache. A longing loneliness our souls struggle to give our bodies permission to express—sighs too deep for words.

What comes next? Where do you find comfort?

It’s rarely alone.

It comes from someone who doesn’t need you to speak. Someone who sits. Who listens to the things you don’t know how—or simply can’t—express. Safe people. True people. People who know how to say, “I’m here with you. Even if I don’t know how to do it. We’ll do it together.”

It’s assurance and calm. It’s love and peace. There is no shame in your shared silence. The Spirit sanctifies it.

This is one of the ways God’s grace works in our lives—moving to heal, to make whole our mind, soul, and body. I think that’s part of what these words from Romans help us understand about how God works in the world—God’s plan after Jesus.

It’s how we’re loved.
It’s how miracles still occur.
Even now.

Prayer
Breathe on me, Breath of God,
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what you love,
And do what you do.
Breathe on me, Breath of God,
Until my heart is pure.
Amen.

This prayer is adapted from Edwin Hatch’s hymn, “Breathe on Me, Breath of God” (1878).