Even before the blue cloud surrounded the house, I was very sorry I had knocked on the door.
My sister, Ann, and I used to manage several rental houses for landlords. One day, we had to deliver a notice to a late-paying tenant to either pay up or move out.
These have to be hand-delivered to the unit, and we thought that meant knocking on the door and handing the form to the tenant.
What innocents we were.
By then, the air was turning blue. The only clean words were, “Hey, get back here, Foofie.”
I knocked, intending to hand over the form. When the tenant didn’t respond immediately, I started taping the paperwork to the front door.
Then the door flew open. The tenant stormed out, grabbed the paper, crumpled it into a tight ball, and threw it on the ground. “I don’t accept notices on my door.”
She said a lot more, but I filtered out the swear words.
Then she bolted into the street, chasing a little dog that scooted past our ankles. A dog she wasn’t supposed to have.
I stood at the front door, coughing from the blue air, and watching the tenant darting around the street like a defensive back trying to tackle a quick-footed running back. Foofie kept skittering just out of reach.
I enjoyed the entertaining romp for a moment, but then I remembered my vulnerable position on the front step. I smoothed out the page, taped it to the door, and sprinted to the car. I was ready for a fast getaway, but Ann said, “I’m not moving until that dog is gone. Just what we need is to run over the dog, too.”
We finally escaped through the blue cloud. After that, we flipped a coin to see who went to the door. No knocking. We did a tape-and-run.
Your grieving heart senses the growling of your enemies, and your heart pounds. Your sadness fuels the monsters’ hope that they can entice you with illusions, luring you away from Me.
Ignore them.
They whisper in the bushes to draw you into their darkness.
Trust Me.
They can’t touch you unless you join them.
Who are these monsters? Despair. Doubt. Discouragement. Defeat. They will pull you down.
Don’t be fooled. Nothing can steal you away from Me unless you agree to go. Remain in My embrace, where My presence surrounds you.
You can walk with joy, not fear. With boldness, not resentment.
Stay with Me and ignore the monsters who long to derail your future.
Stay.
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
He counts the number of the stars; He gives names to all of them.
Great is our Lord and abundant in strength; His understanding is infinite.
The Lord supports the afflicted; He brings down the wicked to the ground.
Sing to the Lord with thanksgiving; Sing praises to our God on the lyre
Tip back your head. Open your mouth and let the gentle rain of healing pour in. I offer newness because I am the Great Healer.
Who can touch the bruised spots and make them whole again? I am able. I restore with love and truth and joy.
Trust me to restore what loss shattered. You think stepping forward is too painful, but I call you to walk with me. My strength is sufficient to bear the pain.
Don’t trust the voices in your own head, but listen to the One who loves you most. Allow me to renew your brokenness. I am pouring into you. Open your heart and let me in.
“I will comfort those who mourn, bringing words of praise to their lips. May they have abundant peace, both near and far,” says the Lord, who heals them. Isaiah 57:18-19
The trees grow thick with glossy green leaves. Wildflowers spray their blues and yellows and purples across the meadow.
The flutter of bird wings stops when they settle into their triumphant songs.
But there’s more. You imagine the warmth of an embrace, the gentleness of a kiss, the brightness of the morning sun on your face softly shaking you awake.
The past is rich and strong, the fabric of your life. You were formed by your past, by the love others poured into you. The faith and honor they entrusted in you.
To you much has been given.
And here is the temptation: to linger too long. To wrap yourself in yesterday’s meadow, to let memory soothe you until it becomes a place of hiding. Comfort can be a gift, but it can also be a snare.
You can’t remain in the past. It’s only a quick indulgence to peek at what is there. The wildflowers will fade if you try to hold them too tightly.
Now it is time: the doors into your future are opening by My hand. Don’t remain in this place. Walk forward.
Your steps matter. If you stay, the blessing stops with you. But if you move ahead, your future will become a sweet past for someone else. For someone who needs the beauty you experienced. Share it.
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