But as I pray for a hedge to protect my heart and mind from the despair and depression that chronic pain and anxiety can typically bring, I'm instantly reminded of a precious friend in Texas. After over a year and a half of battling cancer, he's received more bad news. Typical for this go-getter, he signed up for the catch-all, guaranteed, brutal treatment. It didn't work.
My heart aches for a vibrant and active friend who is stymied tonight with a broken hip, elbow, and shoulder... an incredibly kind, talented, and helpful friend that, I daresay, will struggle a bit with accepting the help she'll need in the coming months.
Another precious soul is at the center of complete chaos, attempting to grow a budding being as a flurry of other precious souls depend on her for nurture and nourishment. I can't even begin to imagine how she feels right now.
While the struggles are unique, the God who presides over each and every moment of this earth's triumphs and tragedies knows exactly what He's up to. He knows each stone and rivulet these tributaries flow over and through to join His river of life. He's got a plan. And while I struggle to understand... while it all feels too heavy... too sad... every person mentioned above trusts Him (including me).
I'm not sure I feel all that qualified to lump myself in with the precious folks listed above, but I do know I can trust Him at His word when He says He loves us. He's been true to His word too many times before. The One who carried us through the sea on dry ground... who carried us through the Jordan... who brought us into the land covenanted to us before Isaac was a twinkle in his father's eyes... the One who offered the same promise to the Gentiles...He may not purpose to heal us here. I've accepted that possibility. He may not purpose to heal us until we stand firmly planted on the other side of that river. But healing is part of that promise.
Our healing? Yes. But if we trust Him, we trust in something much bigger than that. We trust that so many believing souls are caught up in the stories, carried along, and taken up by the stream into the bigger waters.
Our stories are His. He doesn't need to speak through us, but the humbling thing is, He does it anyway. How many teenagers have come to Christ through the witness of a Christian head football coach battling cancer? How many young people know the gentle guidance of a precious, believing piano teacher who puts 150% into what she does for her students? I know quite a few mothers who hang on and are encouraged by the wisdom and kindness of a darling mama of many who seems to be listening extra carefully as the Spirit whispers into her day-by-days and moment-by-moments.
I found this little poem this morning in a very short devotion time. For some reason, everyone wanted to be up with me at 6:30 this morning. 😊 As I prayed for the folks above, and others... as I prayed for myself, this sweet poem seemed to hold back the shadows.
I have been through the valley of weeping,
The valley of sorrow and pain;
But the "God of all comfort" was with me,
At hand to uphold and sustain.
As the earth needs the clouds and sunshine,
Our souls need both sorrow and joy;
So He places us oft in the furnace,
The dross from the gold to destroy.
When he leads thro' some valley of trouble,
His omnipotent hand we trace;
For the trials and sorrows He sends us,
Are part of His lessons in grace.
Oft we shrink from the purging and pruning,
Forgetting the Husbandman knows
That the deeper the cutting and paring,
The richer the cluster that grows.
Well He knows that affliction is needed;
He has a wise purpose in view,
And in the dark valley He whispers,
"Hereafter Thou'lt know what I do."
As we travel thro' life's shadow'd valley
Fresh springs of His love ever rise;
And we learn that our sorrows and losses,
Are blessings just sent in disguise.
So we'll follow wherever he leadeth,
Let the path be dreary or bright;
For we've proved that our God can give comfort;
Our God can give songs in the night.
~From Streams in the Desert
(Mrs. Charles E. Cowman)
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