A Relentless Love

I don't know how He does it. I really don't. How this great God of mine can commandeer my vehicle twice in one week. It's like Jesus called "shot-gun", jumped in the front seat, quietly switched the station from NPR to one of His own. And He just might have brought an army of angels, those covert, invisible helpers packed in right tight in the back seat. With God, anything is possible.

This time I kept on driving, making a mental note to check out iTunes later, maybe even youtube. My mind traveled along like it has lately, fixated on problems, health, very ill children, family, the current administration. And I started to hum, taking a few glances at the empty passenger seat. Isn't it plain healthier to live in a less fretful state? A more relaxed, trusting Jesus way? To grip His hand so tight He has no choice but to hold you upright.

For a brief moment, I dared to toss my aches and pains into the back seat, worries and fears too, adding in all the political angst for good measure. I parked the car, caught a glimpse of virgin blooms on a cherry blossom tree, its pale pink blossoms brightening the landscape, softening the hurt inside. Casting a sideways glance at the unseen friend by my side, I wondered if each act of letting go is actually more of an inching closer. And with every act of surrender, admitting I don't have all the working pieces of the puzzle, could that sidle me even closer yet?

When the song plays at home, in the quiet of my own hiding space from all the noise in the world, I press repeat, pull up a chair by my side. I talk to my invisible friend, edging nearer to this empty seat. I want to hear His heartbeat, to read His mind about the future, to thank Him for life-pumping music. I don't ask about the angels in the backseat, I let Him have that one. So, I study the lyrics to the song, winging up  prayers for that critical leap of faith, that long jump in the mind, the supernatural invasion of the heart that says OK, I get it now, I'm ready to do it your way. A sacrifice of the will.

The music fades like the remnants of a splendid rainbow, leaving bits of wonder to cloak the hungry spirit. And this is when He and I meet in stillness, in that liberating silence of the soul. Our breaths become one.

#Relentlesslovewins

A Song And A Sunrise

It's a new song playing on the radio, the lyrics, the melody, they still your soul and you have no choice but to pull the car over to the side of the road. And breathe. Just ragged breathe.The heart beats right quick as the words, they ring out, giving voice to your own fear and pain, and you know right down deep this song will be on repeat for days, maybe years,

Maybe when God says no, to my own requests for relief, for healing, and for unanswered prayer for other suffering souls, perhaps a little help comes disguised as a song. Even if the circumstances remain unchanged, and the pain steals into the night, burrowing into your soul like a festering wound, He hears, He listens, He knows, and He will make a way out.

And when that first taste of spring kisses your cheek, or when a blazing orange eastern horizon forces you to grab your husband and run outside in your pajamas to drink it in, thirstily, greedy with thanksgiving, these right then are glimpses of His bent ear. Music and sunrises, a crack in the door, keep looking, don't give up.

So I crank up the volume, sing stronger, even flex the trust muscles a wee bit more. And I keep an unwavering watch out. For even if He doesn't heal the pain, even if I limp the rest of the way to the finish line, I won't stop the life-pumping praising. Gratitude ushers in the miracle.

#don'tevergiveup