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Tuesday, October 21, 2014

His Fullness In My Emptiness

 Some days you just feel empty. Some days you feel like you are running on nothing. The happy moments are few and far between. The heaviness of life bears down hard. I find it difficult to find the song in my heart. It seems to have gone silent. The notes long gone.
 I think about the happy-sad that is life: one moment laughter; the next, one of tears. One moment singing; the next, one of groaning and pain. Often, I fight the sad and only want the happy. It used to trouble me that I had to have both, but that was the blind me. The me who didn't understand. The me who had run away from Grace. I now see that my  wishes were unrealistic. One cannot avoid the sad. And one cannot exclude the happy. Both must exist together. Both have much to teach me if I will remain open and look up. If I will embrace them.
 Today, I ponder the odd reality: while I busy myself with the day's work, a friend lies fighting for his life in a hospital in Texas. While I sing a song of thankfulness, my heart still weighs heavy. This isn't something to run from. This is something to accept. I must accept that I will always have such opposites in my life and will never experience the forever-happy until I reach the gates of Heaven. Life is all about finding the hidden joy no matter what trials come about. Whatever the season, it is about learning to say that today, this day, is the best day of my life. Even when my heart is heavy, this should be enough to cheer it. Enough to sustain it. Because He exists. Because He cares. Because He is forever.

 "I lift up my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from?" (Psalm 121:1) The question hangs in the air. Yes…where? But the answer comes as I gaze at the beauty around me. As I see what He has made. And I feel His love. I sense Him filling my emptiness, bringing clarity to the happy-sad within. "My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth." I breathe deep and take in His life-giving peace. The grace-moments are always there. I just have to stop and notice. Because, when I do, His fullness fills me, and I can continue on once again.