“Mom, are you sad?” My nine year old daughter examines my face. She snuggles up closer to me in her twin bed.
“Mom, are you ok? You seem kinda sad.” My thirteen year old man-child asks as I bend to kiss his forehead and turn off his reading light.
“You ok?” My husband inquires as I trod off to bed.
I start to give each one a default, pre-programmed answer, “I’m fine, just a little tired maybe.” But I stop myself. For I am not fine. I am indeed sad. Yet, it feels deeper than sadness. My heart literally aches. Sorrow slumps my shoulders.
“Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?”
My heart grieves.
I grieve for the state of our nation. I grieve for the state of the world.
I grieve for what is happening within the body of the Church.
This has been a hard week. The ugliness of politics. The divisiveness within the Church. The brokenness of sin. Tonight it feels heavier, weightier, lonelier.
I ponder. I listen. I observe. I read. I pray. I think. I write. I cry. I laugh. I worship. I praise.
The last three take work. Concentrated effort.
I want to throw the covers over my head and stay there until Jesus returns. I want to sit within a holy huddle of like minded people, stick my fingers in my ears and pretend all is well in the world. I want to put on Christmas music and bake gingerbread cookies and live in a Hallmark movie.
But that is not what I am called to do.
I am invited and encouraged to rest for a moment, but only for a moment. And while I instinctively reach for my phone to find the justification I long for in my Facebook news feed, a whispered word leads me instead to my Bible.
Go to Truth. Reach for Truth. Hold fast to Truth. Let Truth heal, remind, renew. Let Truth guide.
I cling to well-worn pages. I carefully turn to well known words. I search. I read. I breathe.
My weary heart cries out to its Savior, “It is so hard Lord. Why is it so hard? Why do You allow this? When will it stop? What should we do?”
I lean in for an answer. I get none.
But I do get something. Something better. Something precious.
I get hope.
“Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him, my Savior and my God.”
Hope that He is still on the throne. Hope that His Word—His Truth—never changes. Hope that His Word will endure. Hope that He is with me and He is not overwhelmed with the news of the day. Hope that He is not taken by surprise nor is His Word in need of defending.
Hope that Jesus is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. No matter who is elected president or how people try to interpret His eternal Word.
Hope that He who is in me is greater than he who is in the world.
And hope that He is working all things together for His good purpose.
So tonight my heart hurts and my tears fall. And I will allow myself to grieve for a moment.
Tomorrow I will rise and run to God’s Word.
Tomorrow I will cry out to the One who still holds all things together. I will ask for strength, courage, peace, wisdom and discernment. I will listen more than I talk. I will speak up for truth, love and justice. And I will smile.
Tomorrow I will stand on the eternal foundation—the holy words of the One true God and I will declare that He, as He always has been and always will be, is Lord.
Much love my fellow sojourners,