* * *
It had been a long, rough week. I came down with the flu, I’d had little sleep and little appetite, and it was hot. Then we had no running water. All of this was fertile ground for discouragement, and that certainly summed up my state that week.
Discouraged. And
worse.
I couldn’t bring myself to pretend with God, because I knew
it was pointless. He saw my doubts and
resentment and struggles – the whole lot of them – so why should I even try to
plaster on a fake okay for Him? He knew I foolishly wanted nothing more than
to hide away in a corner and be left alone.
On Saturday I moved into my apartment and had a couple hours
to myself before my friend arrived to stay with me for a few days. I was hungry and weak and exhausted.
So there I was, sitting on my kitchen floor eating a banana (rather
a pathetic note to start on, eh?). Sometimes
you have to get to the end of yourself before you’re ready to face the truth.
“Lord,” I cried, “You brought me here – why?”
“So I can show you who I am…and who you are.”
And I felt like He was reminding me that I could choose to
walk with Him through it – the pain and confusion and loneliness – instead of
running and hiding.
The next day at church, they read Romans 8:38-39, and I knew
it was for me. That week had been like a
dark tunnel, but I emerged with this branded on my heart:
Nothing will be able
to separate us from the love of God.
Nothing. Not a single
trial imaginable. Not even we ourselves.
* * *
God’s grace meets us right where we are. We may have lost our footing and can’t even
seem to pray. We may be wrestling with
doubt or trying to run from our trials. But no matter where we are, His grace boldly
enters in and wraps everlasting arms around us.
Isn’t that beautiful?
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