Oh Lord God. To find thanks in my trial... this is so hard, Father. To be joyful for this? This gnashing of teeth, these anger-filled words, this moment of screaming so loud that my voice catches, breaks. And little ones, Father. Six precious eyes so big, gazing, gaping wide. Lips protruding with quivers. They are still, those bodies that wriggle and squirm and run all day, they are still. Silent.
And yet, to find thanks for tears falling, too? Not theirs, but mine. Such guilt. Such shame. Huge, gushing drops falling so fast I can't count them. But You do, Lord. You know their number. Do you love me so much, even now? Even when Ugly comes and leaves nothing but silence in it's wake?
The tears... falling and falling and perhaps never stopping. Cascading onto pancakes flipping, eggs tossed on plates. And littlevoices whispering, their tiny sounds breaking the silence of worry, of fear. "Momma, are you done cryin'?"
And still, you ask thanks, for their Daddy's absence at just such a time? The man who would take spatula from sobbing wife and feed hungry mouths and allow me escape. Tenderness calming fears, strong arms enfolding, gentle quietness speaking more than words.
Yet even now, you show me. Joyful thanks for wholehearted amazement. For lessons of reliance on my God, not the spatula-wielding, child-feeding man. For humility, for don't I often pray that prayer? For tender hearts that probe my heart and cry out for me to seek what I most desire.
What YOU most desire. Not life defeated, a crumpled mess on a cold, hard floor. To live, Lord. To live with depth. For eyes that see Truth. Clarity. The old victory over this anger, it was but one battle. A big one, perhaps. Yet You gently smile and nod your head. A layer, my dear. Just a layer. I long to take you deeper still. Grasping tightly, I am ready. So much gratitude for wherever You take me, Lord. I am ready, only with You.
