When we pulled in the driveway, I saw a blue bird flit across the yard, the crispy grass a perfect backdrop. I noticed how good the sunshine is and how good it is to see life in contrast. I spent weeks in the hospital with my little baby who is one year old but the size of a 6 month old. My milk and all the food wasn’t enough, but there were good things stacked in the mail and tomatoes to eat here before going bad.
Before we left for the hospital, I felt somehow that I might be in shock. The words “Failure to Thrive” and “Starvation Mode” in association with my own child, those words don’t move me like my brain is telling me they should. Isaac is yelling from way up in the tree, and Jude runs in screaming “Emergency! Emergency!” I go out to see my oldest floating in brittle vines about 3 stories over my head. I shake all over and talk him down. Suddenly I fear they’ll slip through my hands like water. What of the time we have; what am I making of it? And yet, peace like a river. I do have that peace like a river.
We live in a realm that we can see, the realm where synapses fire and connections are made. In the seen nerves get shot, puppies bark all night, we run out of money, and children get sick. Here we file in pews and respond with appropriate gestures. We all do our very best to make it in the fragile seen places. And then there is this other place, this place of the unseen – the secret place of prayer, of richness, and of safe deep-unto-deep.
Often we say that we wouldn’t survive if _________ happened. I’m learning that we can give the Holy Spirit more credit than that. Often we like to think we know how we would act in a given situation, but the truth is that we don’t. News that your baby is cratering can give you the feeling that all is at storm, but your boat is calm.
We’re not in the clear, here in the seen, this world of trouble. Jesus himself said so. But He said He’s overcome the world. So there’s a place we go, even when we fail to not be anxious and when our pinched nerves are flaring up – there’s a place we go where Jesus can look back on this earth in past, present, and future tense. We sit outside of time with Him a little, and I look at my babies and our generational struggles, and I know we are overcomers in a troubled world.
That’s why it’s okay to not be okay sometimes. His peace river is trenched low-down deep, and we dredge there in sorrow. That’s where we find that Jesus is the very best friend.
photo from weheartit
By: Amber Haines, TheRunaMuckLeave a Comment