The Constant Presence

     "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to and end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23

  "Instead of asking why did it hurt me--instead ask, what did it teach me?" Denzel Washington

  Denzel's quote is from a YouTube video I've watched a couple of times, "Why God let the narcissist hurt you. The answer will change everything." It helped. A lot. I am thankful the Lord led me there.

  It doesn't mean the grief has gone away. Not yet. 

  There's a part of me that is angry with Him. This too shall pass. It's more important to be honest about the space my brain is occupying today. With our feeble, time limited lives and finite perspectives, being angry with Him is likely a common occurrence. I am simply offering my feelings up to Him. It helps when a load is shared.

 

  I don't think many of us think about the fact that He is there when terrible things happen. Every single time.

  Even when we made our own poor choices. Choices that are often made from a place of damage, be it shame, guilt, self-loathing, despair, or searching to be loved.

  I've made many poor choices over the years. There's no guilt attached to acknowledging this. Truth has no guilt. But I am now in a position to make better choices through a confidence in a Lord who only wants my freedom from old and familiar ways that are detrimental to my well being. Or could it possibly be the ways that interfere with His plans?

  Behind my mother's voice in her phone message, I heard a cage door creaking open. As much as I have a God who wants me free, there is another who would absolutely delight in destroying the rights that freedom grants.

  That is the enemy. Not my mom. Not God.

  What makes it hard is the enemy will use Him against us. For example: what kind of Christ follower am I if I don't call my mom? That's not very forgiving or loving, is it?

  I shared with my therapist about parachuting out of a plane for the first time. It's never solo. You are tied to the instructor who has full control (hopefully) of the parachute.

  I've never done it but can only imagine the dry mouthed, screaming heebie-jeebies that come the moment the plane door is opened and you are in front, feet dangling, looking down at a miniature landscape thousands of feet below! 

  It aptly described how I am feeling about doing things a new way: the way of silence, of offering God space to do His will in both our lives.

  It's reassuring to know that it's Jesus who is strapped to my back and He's the one with a firm grip on the parachute release cord. His chute will not fail. Ever.

  You know something? I've jumped out of a lot of planes since becoming a believer. The kind that are on fire and about to crash into smithereens. Jesus was always there, in the nick of time to save me.