Saturday, July 8, 2017

10 years...


It was ten years ago this morning when my mother was frantically trying to get in touch with me. I was in worship team rehearsal and had turned my phone off though. (This is why you will probably never find me without my phone to this day.) She was able to get a hold of the church's number, and someone came and pulled my husband out of rehearsal. After being gone for several minutes, I felt like something must be wrong, so I went to check on him. I'm not really sure how he was able to tell me those horrible words, but I'm so thankful for the caring, loving man that he is, always looking out for me and loving me so well.


 If you've ever lost someone, you know that the grief of their passing can hit like waves in the oceans or thunderstorms in the summer. Sometimes we see the storm coming and suit up in our raincoat and galoshes, and sometimes we are caught off guard and struggle to feel God's grace in the midst of the turbulent winds. 

Yesterday, we were caught off guard by the physical storms that rolled in and interrupted our swimming time. My kids were disappointed, but coming home, eating popsicles, and watching Moana for the hundredth time seemed to do the trick;-) All the while, in the back of my mind, a mental storm was brewing within me, looming over my head like a dark cloud.

July 8 is a day I often approach feeling like Eyeore. And for anyone who experiences the waves of grief, you probably understand how it feel like a rain cloud is hovering over you, following you wherever you
go. But don't forget that there is always a calm after the storm, and with a storm comes refreshment to the earth, despite the destruction it may cause. And the cloud itself, though it can produce a storm, can also provide protection. 

I dread the inevitable resurrection of memories from ten years ago when I learned that my daddy had passed away. I can't see past the clouds at what God did in His infinite wisdom, but I can choose to let Him cover me with His comfort and the knowledge that He is good.

I'm thankful that my Heavenly Daddy doesn't chastise me for struggling over my earthly daddy's sudden death. Instead, He wraps His arms around me and catches each tear that falls from my face and reminds me that He is a good, good Father. 

I imagine today will come with its share of tears, but right now, what the Lord is speaking to my heart is that He is still good, and He is ever near to the broken-hearted. Without pain, we would not experience comfort. And just like I long for my babies to crawl up in my lap and let me hold them close, my Heavenly Daddy wants to do the same for me. 

No matter the circumstance in your life, God is able to bring good from them. It may be that your Daddy-God reveals the bigger picture to you, or you may just experience the blessing of His comfort in the midst of the storm. Some days I still feel like I'm sorting through the damage of that great storm in my life ten years ago, but at the same time, I choose to rest in the total assurance that my God is good, faithful, just, and He cares deeply for me.

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