When the last couple of days on the road have been long and especially heavy, home is wildly sweeter. And one of the first things I do is organize my jewelry, so my life is just a little more put together.
I hoped that this so, very hard and heavy thing would never have to happen. That I would not deal with the pain it causes. But deep down, I knew I could not help it. I chose the life of its inevitability, because I chose love. And love— it hurts sometimes. Immensely. I can testify that now more than ever.
But though The Lord slay me, still I will praise Him.
And, if I'm being honest– this, I do not think, is the worst of it. This is not the closest to home that it could unfortunately, possibly be. Then how does it feel so? I do not know.
I wept consistently, for a reason I could not completely understand at the time.
Because I'd only talked to him maybe once. I barely knew him.
I wish I had.
If I was aware of what little time he had left on this earth, I would have made an effort.
What would I say if I could go back in time to when I sat right across from him at the dinner table?
He was walking to church when it happened. Yesterday. Yesterday. The scene keeps replaying in my mind. If he'd only left 5 minutes earlier.
Make it stop. Oh, please, make it stop.
I… I can't think like that. I shouldn't be.
Everything all at once— it makes me wonder. How could I be so selfish?
His family, his community— their surrendering trust was jaw-dropping. I cannot even imagine what I'd done in their place.
I don't have to worry about what they do in that part of the world. My God, the unmentionable things. How is it that the claimed "unmentionable" is, a lot of the time, the most necessary to mention in this world? Oh, the tragic irony.
Shame on me for not bothering to make time to bend on my knees, to lower my head, to plead for these people. This person.
What am I to do about this?
I will trust Him with my story, and the trials that come with.
Though the Lord slay me, still I will praise Him.
Last week I wrote about being still. I had no idea the sort of "unmentionable" that was coming. My Saviour did, of course. Because when life gets hard, I get going. He knows that. I want busyness and distraction. Stillness seems almost impossible— but right now I've learned it's imperative. My grieving and lamenting is teaching me how to truly rest.
Is this a glimpse of good emerging from its once-dark place?
Stillness is not synonymous with stopping. It does not mean being lazy or wasteful, as I thought before. I avoided sabbath, in fear of losing time for a worthy-of-being-told story. I hated the mundane. I wanted to do something about the hard thing. But I know I cannot. Now, I see it is the stillness that helps get you through.
Maybe the stillness is the doing something. It is perhaps what makes your story its fullest.
Because all those wonderful, meaningful things that come from being still— they grow you.
Stillness *with God*= movement in the Kingdom of God. That is what it is.
He gave me a renewed definition.
And today, I think organizing jewelry was my being still & my kingdom work for my life. Even if only for today or this week. I don't know how, but it got me stirring. It confuses me in some fancy-kinda-metaphorical way. I guess this is the mystery of my Father.
Though the Lord slay me, still. I. will. praise. Him.
Forever and ever.
