It is Monday of Holy Week, and my soul longs for God and the comfort of His loving arms. A friend stopped in today and shared with me how she talks with God nearly all day long as she goes from place to place. She spoke of how her father died when she was a baby, and that in all her life she has longed for him. Only recently, probably drinking in the beauty of Kentucky while fishing, has she realized that she’s had a father all her life…God is her father here on earth, and she is friends with Him, The Almighty One Who Stoops Down Low to scoop us up in His arms.
I long to sing and dance and be one with Him and hold my little baby Chad in my arms again someday. In all my life, my heart will never rest until that day comes. With all the sad things in life, with all of the broken hearts that can’t be mended on this earth, I know beyond all reasoning that the goodness of the Lord awaits. I take the hand of the Lord as He reaches out to me and trust that His plan is for the best.
Recently, my family’s peace was shaken unexpectedly. My young daughter turned to me at bedtime and said something along these lines: “I wanted to be angry and scared and sad…but then I remembered to give God my Faith–to let Him have my faith…then, you know the warmth and happiness that comes into your heart? Well, I had that happen and I knew that God had my Faith and gave me peace.”
We all slept peacefully and awoke to cheer on a lovely sunrise this Holy Week Monday! Now, as the sun slides over the hills to my west, I give my faith–my longing–over to My Heavenly Father. I’ve always looked upon Faith as a gift from God, but never until (out of the mouth of babes!) now have I perceived Faith as a gift that can and–oh! how it should be!–given to Him…my hand reaches out to grasp the strong, firm, gentle, loving hand of my Father.