sympathy pains

Empathy is interpreted as the ability to take oneself out of oneself and put oneself into another person's world. It is understanding another person's feelings by remembering or imagining being in a similar situation. It is understanding, being aware of, and being sensitive to the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another without actually sharing the feelings or emotions of another.

Last night a friend called me on her way to a service project where she'd be feeding the homeless and during our conversation she asked me if I had ever done that before. I told her about my experience and about how it had been a blessing to me but at the same time that it had been difficult for me because of the emotions it had evoked in my spirit. I loved meeting the different people there on the street corner. I loved hearing their stories. I felt valuable to them in a small way as I handed them a can of lemon-lime soda or a sandwich. My heart went out to their children as I knelt to play with them on the concrete. But by the time I got home, there was a part of me that was so heartbroken for them in their need that I wanted to sell everything in my possession and actually do something more significant than handing them a sandwich with a smile.

I am one of those people who feels the pain of others, both emotionally and physically. When somebody talks about scoliosis, my back hurts. When I hear about cracked ribs, my sides ache. When a friend feels broken-hearted, my heart feels broken as well. When someone I love has a death in their family, I want to wrap my arms around them and sob with them in their loss. I even feel nauseous sometimes when loved ones are arguing with one another. I easily slip out of my own shoes and into the shoes of those whom I hold dear.

All of this empathy poses a problem sometimes. I find it extremely difficult to walk the halls of a hospital because each occupied bed that I pass calls out to me. I often have to go outside for a few minutes just to escape the silent cries and breathe a deep breath in prayer. There are times when I have to fight the urge to carry the burdens of my family or friends upon my own shoulders rather than entrusting them to God as I know I should.

According to the dictionary, the word empathy is frequently used in connection with the creator of a work of art. When I first read that, I thought not of a creator, but of the Creator. I pictured in my mind Jesus Christ...God in the form of man. The infinite, all-powerful God loved us so much that He came to earth in the form of a perishable man. Jesus experienced all of the pain, sorrow, and suffering any of us ever have or ever will go through. He knows our pain and sympathizes with us because He felt it first Himself.

Just imagine...any time we are in pain, whether it be emotional or physical, Jesus Christ is standing right there beside us. He stands with His nail-scarred hands outstretched, waiting for us to run into the safety and comfort of His arms. That mental picture is so vivid and powerful to me. The holes in His hands where the nails once were remind me that He has felt every ounce of physical pain my mom will ever feel in the course of her disease. He knows a pain far greater than that experienced in a car accident or a knee injury. At the same time, those same scars remind me of the fact that when He suffered and died on that cross, He had experienced all of the emotions I ever have or ever will face. He had both loved and lost. He had treasured relationships with his friends and family. He had been betrayed and abandoned.

Perhaps the reason I can step into the shoes of others and see things and feel things from their perspective is because Jesus first stepped out of His own sandals and stood barefoot in the pain of the poor, the sick, the weak, and the down-trodden. Perhaps it's not a characteristic of my personality that causes me to be this way. Rather, it is Christ living in me that allows me to feel any empathy or sympathy at all.

One thing I know for sure is that I am grateful for my sympathy pains. They are real and raw and fresh. They remind me of my weakness and my need for a Lord and Savior. At the close of our study of the book of James this week, I was talking to my home group about suffering and reflecting on what I've learned through experiencing trials in my life. In James 1:2-4, the author writes, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." It has come up many times during our study of James that suffering inevitably produces a stronger dependency on Jesus Christ than that which is experienced in times of joy or peace. It is in those moments of vulnerability and pain that we find ourselves desperately clinging like the bleeding woman (Mark 5, Luke 8) to the hem of Jesus' robe.

I am grateful for my sympathy pains because they allow me to show love to those who need it most. I have experienced many trials and God has always been faithful to bring me through them. I believe that the empathy I feel is a gift from God that spurs me to reach out to those who are hurting and tell them that they are not alone in their suffering. I have suffered and am testimony of God's love and grace. Jesus suffered far greater pain and grief to the extent that He even died for me and for you. That is surely something to consider with joy.

I will walk humbly all my years because of this anguish of my soul. Lord, by such things men live and my spirit finds life in them too. You restored me to health and let me live. Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish. In your love you kept me from the pit of destruction; you have put all my sins behind your back. - Isaiah 38:15-17

But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor because he suffered death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone. - Hebrews 2:9

To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps. - I Peter 2:21

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. - I Peter 1:3-7

go to sleep, my child

I am a glutton for punishment when it comes to sleep. I rarely, if ever, get enough sleep. I stay up until 1, 2, or sometimes even 3 in the morning and then wake up and start all over again at 6:30 each morning. On the weekends, I don't sleep in past 7:30 or 8 because I feel like I waste my day if I sleep in. It's probably a miracle that I function as well as I do. Not that I function all that well...unfortunately my blonde cells multiply and take over my body with each hour of sleep that I'm deprived. I forget things and events that happened within the last 48 hours. I recently showed up for a party a week early. Yep, that's proof. I'm definitely sleep deprived. (But in all honesty, showing up a week early turned out to be a lot of fun so don't knock it 'til you try it!)

This week I marked my calendar for sleep. Yes, that's right. I put sleep on my calendar! I had to. My December calendar was full before December even started and looking at it was making me feel stressed out and tired. So, I marked Wednesday for uninterrupted, glorious sleep and I was determined to let nothing get in the way of it.

By the time Wednesday rolled around, I was definitely at my breaking point. Months of being on the go non-stop was taking its toll. I knew my immune system had to be running on fumes and my nerves were definitely on edge. I was exhausted to the point of being a hazard on the road in rush hour traffic on my way home from work come 7:00 that night. When I finally walked in my front door, I yanked off my high heels and collapsed, fully clothed onto my bed and into an instant coma.

I eventually awoke...well, to some extent...when my "Santa Baby" ringtone pierced my psyche and interrupted my dreams. With eyes half open and a brain functioning at about 35%, I managed to make myself some dinner, clean my bathroom, and finish the two loads of laundry I had started that morning before heading to the office. With my chores done and my belly full, I finally was ready to hit the sack for good.

But somewhere in the midst of my weary body's need for rest and my obsessive compulsive need for my house to be in order and my bathroom to be clean, it hit me that my greatest need was to just surrender to God. I don't just busy myself with a hectic schedule and an over-committed calendar on a regular basis. I systematically pile on burdens and carry them around on my shoulders stacked hazardously high above my 5'3" stature. I carefully and stubbornly balance them as I walk doubled over along my path until their weight causes me to stumble and tumble. Then, and only then, do I surrender them over to God. But there in my sheer exhaustion, God spoke to my heart. He said, "Come and rest in my arms." And that's when I let go of everything. I let go of my worries. I let go of yesterday and today. I let go of tomorrow. I let go and I crawled up into the arms of Jesus. Ok, it was actually my bed that I crawled into. But trust me, I was crawling into Jesus' arms. And it was there that I found deep, restful, peaceful, glorious sleep. 9 hours of it.

The next night as I hurried home in the heavy evening traffic, I had the radio on instead of my iPod which is uncharacteristic of me because I generally am annoyed by the radio. It was no coincidence that I happened to tune into Z88.3 just as MercyMe's "Joseph's Lullaby" began to play. I heard the words and was reminded of my time of rest the night before.


Go to sleep my Son
This manger for your bed
You have a long road before You
Rest Your little head

Can You feel the weight of Your glory?
Do You understand the price?
Or does the Father guard
Your heart for now
So You can sleep tonight?

Go to sleep my Son
Go and chase Your dreams
This world can wait for one more moment
Go and sleep in peace

I believe the glory of Heaven
Is lying in my arms tonight
But Lord, I ask that He for just this moment
Simply be my child

Go to sleep my Son
Baby, close Your eyes
Soon enough You'll save the day
But for now, dear Child of mine
Oh my Jesus, Sleep tight


Those song lyrics struck me as beautiful and personal. With those words, God was calling His dear Son to find rest in His arms with the same tenderness and love that He had used to call me into His arms the night before.

I need to spend less time trying to change the world one busy task, meeting, or Bible study at a time...and spend more time resting in the arms of my Father.

God, I want to simply be your child.

a still reflection

James 1:19-20 says, "My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires."

For the last three or four months I've been studying the book of James with my home group. Slowly but surely, we've dissected the text verse by verse. Again and again, those are the two verses that keep coming to my mind. I keep coming back to those words: Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry. I've read those verses many times before, but this time they leaped off the page and shouted at me, demanding that I reconsider them. They've struck a chord in my soul that keeps reverberating as each day goes by.

I've always looked at those verses and thought of them in terms of me and my relationship with my family, friends, and people in general. I think I have always looked at those verses as a kind of a checklist of godly behavior to be mentally ticked off. Be quick to listen. I'm a great listener. Check. Be slow to speak. I sometime speak before I think but not terribly often. Check. Be slow to become angry. I rarely get to the point that my blood is boiling. It actually takes a lot to stir up anger in my soul. Check. Wow, at this rate I'm a pretty good Christian. And so, I think I've traditionally checked off my checklist, patted myself on the back, and given myself permission to kind of gloss over those words.

But something changed during the course of this study. As I've heard those verses mentioned and as I've referenced them myself time and time again in the course of discussing the rest of the book, something in my perspective began to shift.

Over the course of the study, I have been struggling with a seemingly unrelated verse in the Bible. Psalm 46:10 says, "Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." Even though Psalm 46 is one of my favorite Psalms and I read it often, that particular verse is one that I battle tooth and nail.

I habitually overbook my calendar. I have a ridiculously hard time saying no to anyone who asks me to do something. I am busy all the time! Oh sure, I'm busy with things that are good and often even Christ-like. I'm busy with all the normal day-to-day stuff like work and keeping my house clean and going to the gym every day and having fun with my friends. And then on top of that I'm busy with "spiritual things" like Bible studies and planning church events and helping different friends and family members with needs that arise. My weeks seem to fill up with life's clutter in the blink of an eye.

My family and my friends have chastised me a million times, warning me that I need to slow down before I make myself sick. They say I need to learn how to say no. My old boss used to tell me that I was too much of a perfectionist and that I needed to learn how to delegate and trust my employees to get the job done rather than do everything myself, my way. Even so, I never seem to listen. I nod and smile and say, "Oh yes, you're absolutely right" but inside I'm already thinking about what I need to get done today and what's on my calendar for tomorrow. On those rare occasions that I decide to slow down and take some time off, something too fun to resist or seemingly too important to disregard pops up and suddenly I'm driving across town and staying out until two in the morning again.

A few weeks ago I was at a church service at Summit and my friend gave me a copy of the advent study guide published by the church. I was eager to begin the study and make it an important part of my routine in this busy holiday season. Keeping Christ at the focus of the Christmas season is incredibly important to me and at the same time increasingly difficult as the years go by. I brought the book home and laid it on my dresser. As I put it down, its title stared back at me: Still. One simple word that pierced me with such conviction I almost couldn't look at it anymore.

The book sat on my dresser for a week untouched. Still. I couldn't stop thinking about Psalm 46:10. I knew it was God speaking to my heart but I resisted that fact, convincing myself that I was much too busy to be still and listen to God. In fact, exactly one week into the staring contest between Still and I, I was talking to a friend close to midnight about how busy my life had become and how much I longed for more time spent reading the Word when those fateful words parted from my lips, "I'm just too busy." As soon as my own ears heard the phrase leave my mouth, I wanted to reach out and grab them from the air and suck them back down in shame. Too busy for God? Who am I kidding? Ridiculous.

Needless to say, that night I went home and got into bed with Still in hand. Still and I had some quality time that night. I read the first week's lessons that night and with each "day" of wisdom, my soul was touched more deeply and I knew those words were exactly what I needed to hear. It was as if that book was written by God for me. A love letter from Jesus. It was an amazing experience and one that was well worth staying up late into the night for.

Somewhere in that time of stillness with God, He spoke to my heart and changed the meaning of James 1:19-20 for me. For the first time ever, I looked at those verses and I didn't think about my relationship with others. I didn't mentall check off my good behavior and dismiss the importance of James' words. This time I read those words and I thought of my relationship with God Himself. "Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry." Be still.

Be quick to listen. How often do I busy myself to the point that I fail to simply listen for God's voice? Failure. Be slow to speak. I am always running my mouth, speaking to others about what they should or could be doing to please God and serve Him, but am I slowing down enough to recognize when I should be silent instead? Failure. Be slow to become angry. I know that all too often I become frustrated with waiting on God's timing, become angry with Him for not catering to my desires and take matters into my own hands. I pray to God with a request and when He doesn't answer in my own time frame, I get frustrated. Failure again.

Those verses in James and that verse in the Psalms have become more meaningful to me in the last couple of weeks. I think they'll remain in my heart for awhile. I have so much yet to learn on this journey here on earth. I know that God has many more things that He will teach me along the way. Today, my goal is to simply be still long enough to hear what He has to say to me today...in this one moment.

Be still, Beloved.

humble pie

I prefer the taste of pumpkin pie over humble pie any day of the week. What was I thinking today when I opened my big mouth and inserted my foot?

A friend of mine who never, ever compliments me finally gave me a compliment (or at least I think so) and I immediately shot it down because I've had my feelings hurt and I wanted him to know that he's the one who's been hurting me the most. Even though everything in me was screaming, don't say anything...don't say anything...I said something....and then I said some more...and then some more. Of course, remorse inevitably and immediately followed. Bitter humble pie in my big, fat mouth.

It's not that what I said was so terrible. In fact, I tried very hard to carefully choose my words. It's just that at that particular moment, it would have better for me to just say nothing at all. When will I learn to just be quiet when silence is what is called for?

Why is it that I say that I trust God and in my mind I know that I do honestly trust God and His timing and yet my actions repeatedly say "Move over, God, because I have a better idea!"? There's something deep inside of me that causes me to leap head-first into action when there's a problem, thinking to myself all the while that I can fix it or solve it or make it feel or look better. But shouldn't I have learned by now that God is in control of all things and that He is infinitely better equipped than I am when it comes to mending broken relationships and broken bones and broken hearts and broken anything? When will that knowledge that is so firmly planted in my head and heart finally translate to my words and actions?

In the grand scheme of things, am I more worried about getting my point across than I am about shaping my character to better reflect the image of Christ? The answer is no. Sometimes, however, my eyes wander from the cross and I lose sight of what's important. God always directs my eyes back towards Himself. He always forgives me and reminds me to forgive others just the same. He loves me and reminds me to love others as He has loved me. And so I do.

I am definitely a work in progress. Stinkin' humble pie. Sigh.


Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. James 1:19-20

The fear of the Lord teaches a man wisdom, and humility comes before honor. Proverbs 15:33

proud to be a treehugger

Today I took a walk with God.

I started out my day as I would any other Saturday, but then God took me by the hand and led me so graciously, lovingly, and tenderly along a beautiful detour.

The weather was so absolutely gorgeous today that I felt compelled to spontaneously set aside my plans for the day and just enjoy some time alone with God. With my iPod plugged into my ears and a book in my hand, I parked my car and just started walking. I didn't have a destination in mind really. I kind of let the music guide me. It was sort of like those guys back in the day who searched for water with a Y-shaped stick or Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride who let his sword guide him. Maybe watching August Rush twice in one week has had an effect on me. All I know is that I let the music set my pace and when Beyonce said "to the left, to the left"...I literally turned down a side street to the left.

As I walked down sidewalks and cobblestone streets, my eyes wandered over landscapes and architecture. Even without my camera in hand, I see the world in photographs sometimes. A stone church steeple rising into the air in contrast against a brilliant blue sky. Brightly colored flowers in full bloom. Palm trees towering high overhead. Children giggling. A couple walking hand in hand. A dog sleeping contently at his master's feet. I see God's beauty everywhere.

For awhile I laid down on a park bench and read from my book. I could have fallen asleep there if it weren't for the fact that park benches make lousy pillows. But as I lay there looking up beyond the white gazebo towards the trees, I felt like I was looking at a deserted movie set. Several deflated balloons dangled from a branch high overhead, remnants of a picture perfect party some days past. Now the party was over and I was the only one left. It was bizarre how quiet and still the world seemed as I stretched across that bench. I read from my book there in the quiet stillness. I read about God's power and I felt something stir in my soul as the truth resonated there.

Eventually the music guided me to a park. After that, it took me to a lake. It was there that I spotted the tree. The perfect climbing tree. Seriously.

I climbed up into the tree and got settled. Perched high above the ground, I felt at home. Looking out over the lake, I watched the snake birds dive for their lunch and then air out their wings at the water's edge. I watched the ducks paddle their way from one bank to another in perfect synchronized formation. I laughed at the squirrels chasing one another in dizzying circles around the branches high above my head. I watched the Spanish moss swaying in the breeze and listened to the distant whistle of a passing train. The Russian Easter Overture began to play from my iPod and I swear nature danced to the music. For fifteen minutes (yes, it's that long of a song), the tall grasses bowed and the breeze shifted as the music swelled. Maybe August Rush has gotten to my head. I don't care. It was beautiful.

I alternated between looking up at the clouds in true daydreamer's fashion and reading Godly words of wisdom from my book. I let God speak to me without distraction. I was still. And it struck me. "Be still and know that I am God" the Psalmist writes. That's one of my favorite Psalms and yet I'm rarely still. I am always on the go, always running from one scheduled commitment to the next, meeting this friend for coffee or helping that friend with a project. I spend my time wisely for the most part and much of it is spent serving God, but most of it is simply spent. Not set aside. I am rarely just still for the purpose of being still and listening to God's voice.

But there, above the ground...in a tree...I was just still. I forgot for a little while about all of the tasks I needed to accomplish. I let go of the worries that are weighing me down. I set aside the pain and the fear and the doubt that accompany this life. I just enjoyed time with Jesus. I listened as He whispered to me through the beauty of my surroundings. I let Him romance my heart and I think my soul even did a little dance as my iPod played on.

Why is it that I find it so difficult to make time for God in that way? Why can't I slow down more often and just find rest and peace in the arms of my Savior? Why am I always so ridiculously busy? I bought two rocking chairs for my front porch, but I'm never at home to sit in them and relax with a friend over a lazy conversation. I bought a TV for my bedroom so that I would relax in bed during a movie, but I've only succeeded in making time to watch one movie in the last three months. Why is it that I have to climb a tree in order to sit still long enough for God to speak to my soul without having to shout above the distractions I surround myself with daily? And if it takes climbing a tree to achieve such stillness, then why do I not long to climb a tree every single day of my life?

God, I want to wake up tomorrow and long to climb a tree with you.

"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." Psalm 46:10

rubies on tuesdays

I don't know what it is about Tuesdays, but Tuesdays are usually rough days for me. Crazy and tragic and sad things just seem to happen to me and my loved ones on Tuesdays for some reason. Well, actually I know there's a reason. I'm sure it's no coincidence that Tuesdays just also happen to be the day that my home group meets. We're studying the book of James and it has been a deep, intense study of God's Word. All nine of us have laid our hearts out on the table. We're actively seeking to learn more about God and serve one another each week as we meet to discuss the truths found in the Scriptures.

And so, on Tuesday mornings, when I get out of bed....I'm pretty convinced that Satan shudders a little at the potential threat of a woman who is truly pursuing God with her every breath and he scrambles to see what he might find to throw in my path. Fatigue. Illness. A wounded relationship. A hard day at the office. Whatever Satan can think of, he lays it out before me in hopes that he might cause me to stumble as I hike along the rocky, narrow road of righteousness. He longs to rob me of my joy long before seven o'clock rolls around and I walk in the door at home group.

Every Tuesday is a battle. And every Tuesday Satan loses. I love it!

No matter how drained I feel before walking in the door, no matter how ill-prepared I feel to lead a discussion on the Scripture we're reading, no matter how many different directions I feel I'm being pulled in...somehow God supernaturally redirects my thoughts and allows me to focus on Him with renewed strength. Each Tuesday I leave that Bible study with such pure joy in my heart that I feel like I might explode! And the crazy part is that I'm not really exaggerating.

I was thinking a few days ago about when I was in North Carolina and we were sifting through the dirt and debris at the bottom of a waterfall looking for rubies and garnet. I thought about how that search was so similar to our spiritual quest. God has all of these great treasures for us. He has beautiful rubies that He desires to gift us with, but Satan works as hard as he can to cover them up with dirt and debris. He wants them to seem unattainable. He wants to cover them up and bury them so deeply in the things of this world (the monotony of daily living, stress, arguments, sickness, weariness, broken relationships, etc.) that we forget about them and stop even trying to pursue them.

Each Tuesday I find myself with a handfull of rubies in my pocket by the end of the day. The rubies come in the form of Bible verses that speak to my heart, text messages that make me smile huge Orbit chewing gum smiles (ding!), surprise packages left on my doorstep, out-of-the blue phone calls from loved ones, bear hugs that lift me off of the ground, blue skies that cause me to daydream, and sunsets that quite literally take my breath away.

I love ruby Tuesdays! :) ....not to be confused with the restaurant.

roadside redeemer

I don't know why or how, but somehow I let the Devil get the best of me the other day. It started out an ordinary day. The sun rose in all its glory as it usually does. I joyfully watched its early morning rays glisten in the morning dew and never thought for a second that in just a few hours' time I'd be going to battle with Satan and his evil forces.

It was later in the afternoon when I started feeling like I was so alone. That's where the Enemy gets me. He is the father of isolation. He wants me to feel alone, betrayed, abandoned, fearful. I know these are his games, his clever tricks. He whispers "you're not good enough" in one ear and sings "you're not truly loved by anyone" in the other ear. He's good at what he does, but my God is so much better. The best thing about battling the Evil One is that I know that God is on my side and that He has already defeated Satan and his armies. But in that moment of doubt and uncertainty, it can be hard to shake loose from the devil's grip on my arm. He pursues me in my thoughts relentlessly even though he knows that my heart already belongs to Jesus Christ.

I was driving to a party where I'd be meeting up with thirty to forty friends, yet I felt alone. It was a long drive. No, it was a very long drive. Each mile seemed to stretch on forever as the devil battled for the control of mind. He told me lies. No, not the kind of lies you hear out loud in creepy, taunting voices like in the movies. The quiet kind of lies that start somewhere in the back of your brain…so far back that you think you must have come up with them all by yourself. And since you think they've come from your own mind, you think certainly they must be true. Surely, you wouldn't lie to yourself. Would you?

At last I'd had enough of this torture and I gathered all my strength to pray against the lies that were swarming my thoughts and choking my joy. As hard as I tried to pray, as much as I struggled to cast out all doubt and uncertainty, the thoughts persisted. My soul felt heavy and dark. I felt so alone.

Finally, I pulled my car over. It was a lonely stretch of highway out in the middle of nowhere. Literally, nowhere. There I sat in my car next to some swampy water and reeds probably twice my height as cars periodically whizzed past me. I took out my "emergency Bible" and began reading the Psalms aloud. Soon the tears were flowing freely as the Psalmist's cries became my own. I begged the Lord to deliver me from my Enemy. "Arise, O Lord! Deliver me, O my God! Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked," I read and wept and still the darkness persisted, weighing heavily on my soul. I tried to pray and I felt helpless to do so.

I got out of the car and walked closer to the water. The sun had begun its descent toward the horizon and it was casting long shadows across the marshlands in front of me. Tiny birds were darting and chasing one another around the reeds. I heard something moving low in the grass and wondered if I might get to see a gator up close and personal. The wind whipped my hair around my face (especially as cars drove by) and the sun threatened to blind me as it continued to dip even lower in the sky.

I sat there at the water's edge and looked at God's creation stretched out before me. Nothing speaks to my heart like the beauty of creation. For me, to be outside is to feel alive. Usually that's all I need to ground me, to awaken my soul to the awesome majesty of the Creator. But on this night the darkness prevailed. The heaviness didn't lift. I prayed and prayed. I prayed so earnestly. Why wasn't God there for me? Why was I so alone?

Eventually I got back into the car, still heavy-laden and oppressed. I went to the party, but never felt truly present. I prayed throughout the night without ever understanding what I was experiencing. In fact, my night got worse. "Why are you allowing this to happen, God?" I was so dumbfounded. "I know my prayers are heard, so what's the deal God? What are you doing here? Why am I alone in this? "

It wasn't until the next day that I realized what had happened the night before. I was driving again, this time without the devil's whispers in my ear. I saw a sign that said "You've never cried alone. God is always there." And at that moment, it dawned on me that God had been there with me as I cried by the roadside.

I was so consumed by my self-pity as I sat there in the grass that I didn't even notice when Jesus stooped down and lifted me with such gentleness, tenderness, and strength and sat me on His lap as though I were just a tiny lamb. I didn't even notice when He wrapped His strong arms around me and held me tight, cradling me close to His chest. I was too distracted to notice the warmth of His calloused and nail-pierced hands as He laid them over my own. I never even noticed that as I was weeping, tears were streaming down His face as well.

There, on the side of the road, Jesus met me. I was never alone. I never will be alone. The Bible says it and I know it to be true. It says in Deuteronomy chapter 31, "The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."

What a blessed and wonderful thought to dwell on! The Creator of the universe who causes the sun to shine so brightly, who hung the stars in the sky and causes the moon to wane and wax…that very same Holy of holies, King of kings and Lord of lords…He met me at the roadside. He was with me in the car too. Tonight as I ran, He was right there next to me. He pounded the pavement mile after mile at my side whispering "I love you, my child" from start to finish.

There will be quite a few lonely car rides before my life is over. Satan doesn't grow tired of trying to hinder the work that Christ has begun in me. But he is doomed for failure because Jesus defeated him at the cross over two thousand years ago. I will have my dark days when my eyes are shut to the goodness of God and I temporarily forget the certainty of His love and faithfulness. But He will be there nonetheless. He will hold me in the sanctuary of His loving arms. He will feel my sorrow and He will share in my joy. That's what a Father does.