When Job looked around and saw his life in rubble, he worshiped. He grieved loudly, yet among his renting, he fell face down in the dirt that once formed man and Job chose to worship his Maker.
Intense temptation to turn my grief inward and shut out the world this week... Who can afford to listen to a woman remember 43 years spent with her best friend or wipe away that many tears? It's been nearly two months; get on with life! And how does one do that when she left half of her life at the grave? All I know is the two shall become one and in one swift breath, the greater part of me stands in his Presence, not mine.
Surely grief is a stranger to schedules and loss, no matter the source, knows no final end, only a resting place in the heart. Yet, I still struggle with bleeding onto paper and into ears. Appearing "on the mend" seems safer and I'm terrified that loved ones moving faster than me will leave me behind...or just leave me.
But then he worshiped...
Keep drawing near; sit at the feet of Jesus where I can mourn out loud and praise, praise, praise the One who made Time and gives me all I need.
Choosing joy might simply mean choosing worship.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment