Thursday, July 21, 2011

Plucking Petals


Writing, for me, is a medium by which I best express my thoughts. It is with pen in hand, or typing on a keyboard, that my heart pours forth most fluently. I consider my ability to write a talent that God has given me, not to be squandered or wasted.

Imagine my dismay when, as of late, I have been literally unable, physically, to write. Holding a pen, or typing, causes my hands to be inflamed, red, painful. Some days, it is very difficult to pick up my sweet babies, to open my mail, to unscrew a jelly jar....

And some days, like today, I have some relief, and it is easier.

As I lay in my bed last night, hurting, frustrated and wishing I could write out my thoughts, my mind wandered back to something that had struck me before, in a book I had read by Jeanne Guyon. She described how she had once had a beautiful face, that she was known for her physical loveliness. Yet, she was vain, and spiritually shallow. She believed God blessed her when he allowed her to become sick with an illness that completely marred her lovely face. She described how through the loss of her physical beauty, she found true beauty in her inner walk with Jesus.

And I began to think about how this might apply to me.

I do not think that this particular symptom is going to last forever. I believe I am going to get better, and be able to use my hands freely. But I also believe God is teaching me a lesson of simple dependence on Him. When I can not write, when I can do nothing, I can go to Him. I can pray. I can still pour out my heart. I can choose to make simple sacrifices for Him, and to depend on His grace for my every need.

And I do.

Lately, I have been asking God that when I pray, that I am made truly aware that I am, in reality, in His throne room. That I am assured in my heart that He hears me. That I remember how Jesus always had compassion for all kinds of suffering. And that I know He loves me.

As I glance a random flower blowing in the hot breeze, I play the game in my mind of plucking petals...

He loves me.

He loves me.

He loves me.





{a repost from a year ago, and God is still so blessedly close... all the petals still say those same beautiful words... He loves us. Truly.}

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