Tags

, , , , , , ,

Good Morning, Sweet Sojourners . . .

The sun reflects sharply off freshly fallen feet of snow around my porch windows. Diamonds sparkle in the fast-melting beauty. Here for a moment. Then gone.

Raisin toast, broiled grapefruit, cereal, sliced banana, almonds, cottage cheese and blessedly hot coffee has disappeared from my kitchen table. Have I mentioned lately how hungry I’ve been? No matter.

How are you? I read many of your blogs. Read words of surrender. Read words of grief. Read words of acceptance. I’m cheering for you. Cheering for us. Remembering that surely our God is for us. That we stand and kneel as a community broken, but restored. Waiting, but being still.

In the stillness yesterday morning while cuddled by the fireplace on the phone with my mom, words slipped from lips accidentally. Words that arrested me in my tracks. Stopped me and brought tears to my eyes. Words re-arranged without realization, then returned to, mulled over, rejoiced in.

“It’s going to be okay because He loves and trusts me,” I murmured on the phone. “He loves and trusts me.”

I had meant to assure her that I loved and trusted Christ and that once again I was not simmering in anger at the Almighty’s doings. Instead, God spoke to me. Through my own utterance.

“I trust you,” He said. “Trust you. It’s going to be okay.”

He turned around what I had meant to say and instead reassured me that He is confident in me. He knows that I’m not going to fail. He knows that the choices, decisions, and hardships of the coming months will not overwhelm me. Yes, I may falter, but ultimately I will rise from the ashes refined as gold.

Beautiful . . .

It has not been an easy week. I yearn for a baby. I wonder what a possible new diagnosis of PCOS might mean for my pregnancy attempts. I rest my hand on my friend’s barely showing five month pregnant belly, feeling skin stretched taut with an expanding life. I cry with a friend whose 27-day-old baby girl fell asleep in her earthly daddy’s arms Friday night and woke up Saturday morning in her Heavenly Daddy’s arms. Forever to be embraced, cuddled, comforted. Sweet breathe drawn in for the last time here and let out in that Glorious Place. Oh, grief.

And, yet, He beckons with unfathomable love. He trusts us. It’s going to be okay. . .  

Advertisements