31 down. A lifetime to go.
One thing is very clear to me at the end of this semi-consistent stream of thinking. As long as I’m alive, I will be learning and living this messy thing called healing.
Because we live in a world busted up by sin, there’s no way to walk around in it without getting busted up ourselves.
And the truth? Sometimes I’m the one swinging the hammer.
Between the pain coming from out there, and the return fire from in here, the situation looks pretty grim.
The good news? God’s not afraid of grim.
“For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope…” 2 Corinthians 1:8-10.
When the healing doesn’t look like we want it to, the hurt hits hard and the words get real. And this doesn’t scare Him either.
How long, Lord? I know part of what you’re delivering me from is my obsession with myself, and my craving for stability apart from You. But right now it hurts. Please, be my hope. When healing is just around the corner, when it’s nowhere in sight, when it’s a distant memory. You are the same. Our hope lives because You live. Perfectly healed, perfectly able to heal.
The end of 31 days, just the beginning.
A lifetime of healing. A lifetime of hope.