One of my favorite hymns growing up was “Father I Know That All My Life”. I think one of my reasons for liking it was because it was a favorite of my “second mom”, Emma. As I’ve gotten older and walked through my own wildernesses, it has become dear to me for other reasons. It’s a song of petition. It’s a song of contentment. It’s a song of strength. It’s a song of childlike faith. It’s a song of promise.
It has been a rough week as I am broken more and more. A friend encouraged me to run to Christ in my brokenness and worship because of the beauty of grace and forgiveness. He was so right.
I am calling out to Him daily as I walk through this fire. I want to be broken. I want the dross burned away. But I don’t like the pain that comes with that burning. As I have turned in my brokenness to the cross, this is one of the songs He has used this week to convict, encourage and point me back to Himself.
They sat in the chair next to me in the cancer center yesterday. She was dressed in blue from her polyester skirt to her wig of blue-gray hair. His walk was slow, stoop-shouldered and weary; his bald head bent down. The blood pressure cuff on her arm buzzed and hissed every few minutes while she was monitored through her treatment. He tucked her warm blanket around her now and then, ministering care to her whenever he saw need.
I am weary tonight, so this will be quick and possibly very raw. My biopsy was this morning, and basically the only thing to say is, “I’m glad it’s over.” The pain during the procedure is excruciating… there’s really only so much numbing they can do to protect from a four-inch needle in your neck. Twice. I almost passed out the first time. There is minimal swelling, some bruising, and a lot of pain tonight. So I am unable to sleep… even though that’s all I really want to do.
There are places in our hearts, broad places of rest and fullness, that cannot exist unless we live through periods of darkness. In the darkness we can be assured that God will be our Comforter in His way and His time, and we can be sure that He is at work to make something beautiful of our souls.
(from Sally Breedlove’s Choosing Rest)
Continuing to cling and believing He will do something beautiful.