Remember when dark grief snarled and you shrank in horror of the black night?
Sorrow, like an angry monster, pressed down until your breath flew away and you were left choking.
But you listened to my whisper. You clung to my words.
As you stumbled in the darkness of grief, I pushed back the gloomy walls. My touch is as gentle as a feather.
If you had never opened your eyes, if you had never taken steps toward my call, you would remain in the cold blackness of grief.
But you did take steps. You unlocked your eyes.
Little by little, we will push through the final dingy fragments and you will see–even feel–the explosion of reds and greens and yellows. Lights will glisten and you’ll draw fresh breath.
You will hear victory songs. The oriole. The finch. Crickets harmonizing with the evening breeze.
Today you get glimpses and I declare yet again:
We are overcoming.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in him!”
The Lord is good to those who depend on him, to those who search for him.
Lamentations 3:24-25
Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. All rights reserved.
