Prayer for Betrayal

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Holy Father,

I stumble into Your Presence with a wounded heart. Pierced to the core, my anguished heart evidences the heartbrokenness of betrayal. My suffering is magnified knowing this was someone I trusted, someone to whom I gave one of my most precious masterpieces.

The more the story unfolds, the more I am shocked by the deceit and manipulation. How was I so blind? Like King David of old, I could have endured this better had my betrayer been a stranger rather than a friend (Psalm 55:12). Now, it’s hard not to doubt my future discernment. Will I be able to recognize narcissistic lies the next time? Grant me protection from their skilled deception.

Charles Spurgeon said, “Reproaches from those who have been intimate with us, and trusted by us, cut us to the quick; and they are usually so well acquainted with our peculiar weaknesses that they know how to touch us where we are most sensitive, and to speak so as to do us the most damage.” I resonate with this as I stand stunned and vulnerable in Your Presence. Your Word warned me that betrayal is inevitable when You stated, “You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, relatives and friends” (Lk. 21:16). Now, I understand why so many Psalms are agony prayers.

Since offenses are inevitable, I know that I am not alone (Luke 17:1). Your Word foretold that “In the last days, difficult times would come. Men will be lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, arrogant, revilers, disobedient to parents, ungrateful, unholy, unloving, irreconcilable, malicious gossips, without self-control, brutal, haters of good, treacherous, reckless, conceited, lover of pleasure rather than lovers of God, holding to a form of godliness, although they have denied its power” (2 Timothy 3:1-5). Wow. I’ve seen most of that acted out before me. We are in those days.

One of the first lessons You teach in this school of pain is that patronizing answers have no place in comfort. A simple mentoring session doesn’t untangle trauma. May I remember to silently come alongside the grieving and grant them ample grace as they walk their pathway of brokenness.

I’ve often asked to know You better, my Lord, so I can thank You for revealing Yourself as a Man of sorrows, acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3). Granted, I wanted to know a “happier” side of You, but this pathway of betrayal gives me great insight into Your suffering. Thank You for answering my prayer.

Your example in agony is a stark contrast to mine. “You committed no sin, nor was any deceit found in (Your) mouth” (1 Peter 2:22). I confess I’ve been furious, outraged, offended, and resentful. I didn’t realize I had this much fury within me. But, “even before there is a word on my tongue, behold, O Lord, You know it all” (Psalm 139:3). I may surprise myself, but not You. My light and my darkness are alike to You (Psalm 139:12). Thank You that even in this, You do not condemn me, but steadfastly seek the Presence of Your Son within me (Romans 8:1).

I want to forgive, but it seems the deeper the wound, the longer the process. Daily, I set my face toward this Jerusalem, but moment by moment, the distractions of pain slow my step. Keep me focused on forgiveness despite my stumbling. Watch for spores of bitterness that try to attach themselves to my heart. Uproot every shoot of this invasive, defiling parasite as I refuse entrance to the claws of offense (Hebrews 12:15; John 20:23).

Thank You for Your Holy Spirit — my Comforter, Advocate, and Guide. He reveals that I must stop thinking about the who and what of my pain. Indeed, I no longer know how to pray for him. But, hallelujah, You do. Come, Holy Spirit. Groan Your prayers on my betrayer’s behalf thorough me (Romans 8:26). As far as it depends on me, I desire to live at peace with everyone (Romans 12:18). I believe that as I allow You to heal me, Your power will descend quickly into the world around me. Be it done to me according to Your Word (Luke 1:38). In Jesus’ Name, Amen.