The Psalmist counted up enemies and exclaimed, "oh Lord how many have risen against me…"
I have counted up the hard things of this week with the same exclamation but without a cave to hide in.
That has been okay.
I have not needed a cave for hiding. I have not needed to hide at all.
I have needed to be found.
National news has flooded with it; more secret things being made public {as will all secret things one day be made}, but in this story, the home of my story has been hit, memories unleashed, and wounds scraped up and raw once again.
I read in my newsfeed of a friend whose son has burns on his legs.
She has had to learn the hard process of dressing his wounds; reopening and cleansing that they might be freshly bandaged.
It is what must be done for his healing.
This is what must be done in my soul;
for my healing.
It hurts.
He is tender.
There has been other hard in this week.
A watching and yearning together with my dear beautiful wonderful man.
Seeing his faith stretch and pull strong. Feeling my own in tandem with his.
Sometimes even the most clear and anticipated of horizons can stretch on into the place of fuzzy wonder and seeming- impossibility.
The corners where our rigorous investment meet up with our openhanded trust in a sovereign God.
These corners can hold deep pockets of longing and desire.
When a door stands before us, we can see our heavenly father's hand upon the knob, and we wait…
Does he intend to open it to us?
Or does his steadfast faithfulness require it's close?
We wait to see...
And sometimes the wait hurts.
Sometimes it all hurts and it's all for the healing.
{ever feel this, dear reader?}
To be at once both painfully shattered and perfectly found.
A soul mosaic.
In the beautiful introductions to summer weather, iced tea and sunny walks –
I have been found.
In the faces, sticky and tan, of my people-
I have been found.
In the early-morning places of his word – trutting alongside the Psalmist-
I have been found.
In the sharing of closest words, tears, laughter, and all the makings of love with my Steve-
I have been found.
In voices of wisdom and understanding – voices which validate and speak redemption-
I have been found.
In the friend, with her own desperate hard, who took my heart on a hard morning and helped me sift it for a re-bandaging in hope-
I have been found.
There has never been a moment, or thought, in which He has not known exactly where to find me;
all of my zillion shattered pieces so rugged and dirty; captured for a mosaic of His goodness!!!
And this is where the hard stuff gets treasured up.... In the being found!
Listen to this song.
Find Him finding you in it's message of hope!
Happy Mosaic Weekend