She's a southern gal from Georgia and she just finished 2nd in her age group in her very first 5k (I'm only a little jealous). She has two sons, two dogs, and one husband (how many of us could handle more than one husband?) and finds herself completely grateful that God really does see each of us. You can find her tapping away on her blog, He Sees Me. Through her words, you will know that you, yes you, are seen, too.
Touch the presence, the solid weight.
The rock of "if".
In my own strength I press and punch.
Trying to break through my fears to feel the comfort of control.
I am all weakness.
The rock is strong and dark.
I know I am entering a battle that is not my own.
And the "ifs" all compound.
They become forged together by time.
The daily weather.
The fear of failure.
The fear of death.
The fear of finances.
The fear of my children's future.
The fear of my marriage.
The fear of health.
Solid and unmoving in my fearfulness.
Where is the rod of Moses?
How does an "if" transform into a "Yours"?
And Isaiah 41:3 comes to mind:
"For I am the Lord, Your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to You. . do not fear. I will help you."
I want this.
I want to hand over the fears, watch the rock of "if" become the living water of "Yours".
Can I drink from the rock of Horeb?
The question hasn't changed in all eternity;
". . Is the Lord among us or not?" Exodus 17:7.
It is in a novel I am reading with my sons.
A clock whose hands move, but move in such a way that they never cover the picture at the top of the clock.
This picture is so small, that the hands that swing never change the picture.
The straight lines counting the moments simply can't reach high enough.
The circumstances of life, the "ifs" that may or may not be, are like those small black arrows that keep time.
Moon birthing the sun.
Rest becomes wakefulness.
And in that time, a piece of that rock, the frightening "if", can be thrown into the quietness of the routine.
The planned day.
The day I wrote in pen instead of pencil.
The rock makes ripples.
Clarity becomes distortion.
But the Water is still there.
And the stillness, the water that casts reflection, that return of Light;
It is never too slow nor too quick.
This rock, the "if" , is so heavy.
It splashes and creates waves.
Yet always ends up sinking to the bottom.
Yes, time changes, but just like that clock, the Picture remains.
No circumstances can reach high enough to change the Author of Time.
He is writing our redemptive epic.
He has conquered time and circumstances.
Whatever and whenever that "if" comes to be.
And I see Him, handing me the staff.
The choice is made to place the hands, worn bloody by the fighting, securely around this Miracle.
Only this: "Your rod and your staff give me courage." Psalm 23:4
The rock of "if" becomes Living Water as I strike with Greatest Love.
Watch the rock crumble and wash away with the tides of redemption.