I feel like I should have a beautiful, poetic blog post somewhere inside of me just bursting to break forth. It seems that I should be able to wax and wane the glories of God and nicely package up all that He is doing in my life, heart, and soul. Then I realize that God does not fit into nice, pretty, little boxes. And then I realize that there is no point in forcing it, so I get another cup of coffee and do what Sherry has told me so often, I just let it flow.
Not much is flowing these days. I long to write, but there are no words. I have wrote myself out again it seems lately. There are times that I have a glimpse of God and His work. Somehow I can grasp the big picture: creation, salvation, mankind, redemption, a trumpet, a returning Savior. Other times I can barely see Him through the fog.
Since Trent's death I have been abiding in Jesus like never before in my life. I envision myself in the palm of God's hand. Just curled up there; protected, surrounded, padded, held, cherished.
I was thinking of my earthly father this morning, and realized God's goodness in taking him to heaven when I was only 18 years old. I can vaguely recall an earthly father's love, and of those recollections, very few of them being tender ones. I watch first hand, through Rob, a father's love being poured out on our children. This husband of mine, who grew up with alcoholic parent's and never learned by example how to be a godly father, has been used as a vessel for God's love. I envy my children in one sense to be loved by their earthly father in this way. I look ahead some days and anticipate the strength in them because of it, and then I wonder what God is preparing them for through it. Who can fathom the ways of the Lord, who can understand Him?
Some days I feel as if I am just being held here in this time of waiting. Waiting on God to move again, waiting for direction, waiting for the promised joy, or for the tears to stop, or for the pain to end. Waiting for my own eternity to appear. Waiting for this to be made right. But then I realize that God wants me here. He wants me to feel this, every part of it. He wants me to live now, He wants me to be obedient now, He wants me to abide in Him now, He wants me to put my hope in Him now and look forward to "that day" all the more. He has granted me this time of rest, this time of soul searching, this time of pain, this time of decision making.
I long to be used by Him. I have a friend who longs to suffer for God. For many years, now, she has been asking Him to take her deep. And she wonders why He hasn't. She fears that she will fail when He does call her to go deep for the sake of the gospel. Most of us would wonder why God would make us suffer. Most of us don't want to go deep. I can testify to her that she will not fail, because when God takes her deep it will be Him revealing His faithfulness to her, not the other way around.
So I simply abide. I do the chores, and I abide. I love my husband and my children, and I abide. I read the Scripture He points me to, and I abide. I try to listen and go where He calls me to go, and I abide. I repent, again and again, and I abide. I wonder how He will make this all right, and if what I have done today is enough, and if I should say more or say less, or if it's me or Him, and I abide. When He calls me to move, I will move. When it's His time, He will bring it about. Again, today, I go forth in trust with my Savior who leads me where He wants me to go.