Some days I wake up crying.
And when I do, I often don’t even know why. Perhaps it is the weight of unspoken problems that I’m too afraid to articulate. Coupled with a vague dread of what might come next.
Yesterday was one of those days. The day before, my arm had felt useless. I couldn’t drink my coffee. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t do what I wanted. I felt trapped inside my body which has become an all-too-familiar feeling. At times, it almost feels like a living death.
So, as I lie in bed, contemplating what the day might hold, I feel tears welling up inside me.
“Stop, don’t do this,” I tell myself. But I can’t force the tears to stop and they start trickling down my face. Before long, my pillow is soaked and I feel hopeless.
“You’re a failure. You’re a burden. You can’t do anything for yourself,” are the ugly voices I keep hearing until I force myself out of bed.
I pull my robe on slowly and stumble into my prayer closet. I need this. This is my food for the day.
“Please God, help me. Show me truth,” is my only cry. I cannot muster anything more. Then I open the Bible and start reading.
Without this Word, I would start interpreting life on my own. By my experiences. My feelings. My finite perspective.
I know that this is the only place to find truth. If I judge life by my despair, my pain, my circumstances, I will always live life skewed. I will judge everything by what I see. But life is so much more than what I can see. There is a Reality that goes far beyond my experience.
And that reality is God. He is in me and with me and for me. The truth is, I have died and my life is hidden with Christ in God.
As I turn the pages of Scripture to the first reading for the day, I marvel. Yet I’m not surprised. God meets me through his Word. Without fail.
Sometimes it requires perseverance to understand what I’m reading, like digging for diamonds. And other times, like today, the Lord feeds me directly from his hand. View full post »