The silliest things can keep a gal grounded. Like being tagged on Facebook. If you’re on this social media, you know the one going around. Seven days of pictures for the “love your spouse” challenge.
When you choose to return to dark stairways into the deepest places of your heart, you need to be grounded. Especially when you step onto them and begin the descent when for a long time you’ve stood at the top only briefly and turned away.
I don’t walk alone. Jesus holds my hand, lights the torches so I can see the next step. I know His goal. To clear out the darkness completely. To flood these forgotten places with glorious golden light so they are no longer hidden passageways where despair lurks, but bright, gleaming staircases that are easily traversed for the good of all.
As I write, more raw than every before, I am humored by the timing of the Facebook tag. As I do the seven-day challenge, I am reminded, every day, of God’s good gifts. Of joy. Of good memories and healing and laughter.
Of how blessed I am.
And really, no matter what life is asking of you, it offers the beautiful moments. The joy of loving relationship, the fragrance of the lilacs, the glory of a sunset. It’s in embracing the little things, being present in the moments, where we find life’s greatest riches.
The tears start early today. Little drops of golden honey that will bring healing to me and to the chosen who read my next book.
At least that’s what He tells me. That my tears will drop and form words, phrases, and paragraphs, coming from the deep places and calling out to the deep places.
Not just me. But me too.
The words will be His heart and mine. Together. Right. For many. For me.
But I barely have energy to move today. The tears started long before I reached for the keyboard. I didn’t work yesterday. Tuesday’s writing was done in dropping tears. Taking a break and pacing the living room. Returning. Hands on keyboard. Until I had to stop.
I don’t want to be in a holding pattern of tears. I want to surrender to this latest call, to bravely go where I have not gone before. To get to the other side for whatever glory awaits. Peace. For me. For others.
Telling my story because we overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony.
Blessing and suffering together. Two cups. He asked me to drink of both. He promised to be in both.
For good. For beauty. For hope.
Not for despair.
But today–and for a stretching of days–I walk through to get to the other side. I choose this journey for love of Him and for love of those He heals.
I choose it in the security of the knowledge that He never does harm. He only does healing.
I brave it because I am loved. Forever. Unconditionally. By Him.
Please pray me through my friends.