“Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in Him.”
Psalm 34: 8
The world awakes this morning. Our eyes open to our new reality. Death tolls rising. Families devastated. Isolation and loneliness. The acknowledgment that we do, in fact, want to see those crazy friends and family members more than we realized. Tornadoes recently tearing apart one of the only safe havens we have left- our homes. Frontline workers overwhelmed by a faceless enemy- an enemy they don’t even know how to fight. Jobs gone in the opening of one short email. Security rattled completely. Fear of what lies ahead. Fear of today. Fear of what you contacted in days past. Fear- it is palpable.
And amidst all of this, we are on the heels of a celebration praising the rising of a King from the grave. The world resounding with a chorus to a man who was gruesomely nailed to a cross, laid in a tomb, and 3 days later returned. Death to life. Darkness to light. Despair to Hope. Ending to absolute beginning.
Maybe you don’t know what to believe. If this King is true, then where is He? If He rose out of the depths of death then how can He not be here now?
And in this gap is where I wish I could transfer the knowing that I have. The knowing that only He can give. The unshakeable truth that He is here. Now. Always. The rising from the grave rises up in me. It pulses. It reverberates in the depths of my soul. It is a background noise, sometimes quiet, sometimes roaring.
And if I could point your eyes on all of the dark moments that passed before, and the light that somehow still came. Just breathe. Slowly in, taking stock of what has come before you. Steady out, eyes squinting, forehead wrinkled. And in the searching you find the moments you had once passed by. The sun falling on your face. A look up. A fleeting thought of reassurance. A wonderment that there is more. A desperation that it is all too much alone. A knowing deep within you, that something is here with you. All the moments that should have killed you, but didn’t. It is Him, sweet friend. It is Him. His loving eye is upon you. He is waiting. He has been all along.
And when you choose that moment to look for Him, oh, the beautiful joy that will bubble forth. The safety and the friendship that will be given so freely. The love, once felt, can never be fully forgotten. You have been marked, His hand indelibly painting small strokes into your story.
And the darkness will once again come. It may have never fully left. It will still try to cover everything up, but now, now you have seen what Light looks like. You know how His light illuminates things that once were into something that now is. A love that calls things chosen. Wanted. Loved. Forgiven. Called. Precious.
And the fallout of all of this fear is yet fully known, but I hope that there is a rising up of safety sought. How I pray it is found in the only solid place safety can truly be found. And when the dust settles, let me be found still. On my knees. Humbled by a King who stood by my side. Arms lifted up, praises on my lips for all that He has done. And for the beautiful yet to be. When the pain is fresh, let my ears be attune to His promises. When the world screams uncertainty, let my feet stand planted, braced to withstand the storms on His rock. Let me place my hand in His and feel His grasp tighten even stronger, the reassuring pressure reminding me that It Is Well With My Soul.
It is well with my soul.