I tucked my legs beneath me in the corner of the sofa. Coffee steam rose from my favorite cup. I clutched my Bible to my chest and rested my head against the sofa’s back. My eyes closed while I tried to settle my spirit, but peace seemed like a distant desire with no relief in sight. I felt very troubled. Peace evaded me.
One of my favorite psalms began to flow from my heart and escape my lips:
Hear my cry, O God; Attend to my prayer …
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Lord, You promise to draw near to the brokenhearted and those crushed in spirit. By faith, I know this to be true. But lately, I can’t see You because of my tears. Open my eyes Lord.
You are my faithful God, merciful and kind. I have no reason to doubt Your promises, but my circumstances are consuming me. My attention is focused there, like I’m in a headlock of the enemy and I can’t lift my head to behold Your glory.
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I held the warmth of my coffee cup to my chin, allowing the steam to rise and help remove the chill of this frosty spring morning. Sitting quietly, gazing out the window at the wonder of God’s creation, I sensed God’s presence drawing near. We didn’t speak. There was no need. God knows my heart before I utter a word.
David’s dementia is increasing, his ability to reason escaping his gentle spirit. It’s been a hard few days … and I needed to be held in my Savior’s love.
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Lord, how easily I belt out, On Christ the Solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand … I have done my best over all these years to live this Truth out loud. I’m built on the Rock, for sure, but goodness gracious, I’ve been taking a beating lately.
As have many of Your children.
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Our porch thermometer registered a brisk twenty-six degrees this morning — this first day of spring. The old apple tree is beginning to form tiny buds on its branches, my rose bushes are awakening from their slumber … spring is here, and yet winter lingers with its frosty mornings and oyster gray skies.
As I observed the contrast of two seasons — their merging, their conflict — I thought about my spirit. And yours.
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