I've been away for a bit. I spent a week in Colorado with my kids and while the trip was hampered by some severely painful back issues, I cherished the time with them in the beautiful landscape that God created. I still think that God put South Fork, Colorado on earth so I would have a small glimpse of how wonderful Heaven will be.
While there, I finished a book co-authored by a good friend, David Terry, entitled The Original Sanctuary. I was struck by the idea that South Fork has been my original sanctuary, the place I felt I could go that was safe, where I could feel God's presence. My dream would be to spend a summer or own a house there. It might never happen but it is the place I always feel closest to God.
I continue to struggle with what God is doing in my life. A dear friend has reminded me of the saying "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger." I don't feel stronger but maybe, like working out, it takes time and perseverance to become stronger. I keep asking God where he is and what, if anything, he is doing in my life. I read David's words in the Psalms and can understand his questions so clearly. All the while I experience support and love from so many people and I know it comes from their heart and desire to by the hands and feet of God for me. Sometimes I can't help but think I need to spend more time exploring my belief that I would have made a great Israelite, someone who keeps seeing God do things and then turning around and wanting more from God done the way I want things done. He gives me manna while I try to demand prime rib.
Today, I am so very grateful for God's patience with me and His overwhelming forgiveness.
Grace and peace to you.
2 comments:
I like the way Jerry Sisler describes seasons of grief. He calls them bad chapters in a good book. I am trying to keep that perspective. Since I am still in the middle of the bad chapter, it is hard to see. But I do believe that is the reality.
Oops. I misspelled his name. It's Jerry Sittser. His book A Grace Disguised is the best I have read on dealing with grief.
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