The other day I was met with disappointment that weighed my spirits, literally, to the ground. After about twenty-four hours of moping around the house, mourning the loss of a certain hope, I fell to my knees on this spot--the wicker chair cushion I store indoors during winter months. It hides in my living room behind a love seat, under my special Peruvian wool throw:
There I let loose a torrential rain of self-pity. God didn't mind, and was kind enough to warm me with the sun's rays pouring in through the East window. I pray in that direction for no special reason, and I pray with boo-tay in the air, like a Muslim, simply because if I don't, I will limp away on prickly, nonexistent legs when finished.
Even if that happens, I always walk away with a lighter heart.
The next day I found myself back in my "prayer closet" for a different reason. I had been reading the Song of Solomon and was overcome once again with the realization that even though Jesus and I have been together for quite some time now (about 35 years), His love for me hasn't grown cold.
Sometimes I let myself believe, deep down, that He reserves His amazing forbearance and strongest affections for passionate and zealous new converts--"newlyweds." But with me--and my stubborn hangups and tenacious habits--He certainly gets tired, like a bored marriage partner.
But Dave is not like that. After seventeen years of marriage, his love for me has only grown.
Could it be that Jesus loves me thus? That He is unmoved by my "down days?" That I will always be close to His heart, and no desert wandering or dismal failure of mine will ever change that? That I am no disappointment to Him, despite days of apathy and seasons of complacency? That He is, in fact, not turned away from me with folded arms? That I can instantly step back into that flow of grace and power to do what He has asked me to do, as if I'd been there all along?
Once again, a rush of tears.
Where do you pray? And do you raise your--you know.
Oh my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the cliff, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely." --SS. 2:14
There I let loose a torrential rain of self-pity. God didn't mind, and was kind enough to warm me with the sun's rays pouring in through the East window. I pray in that direction for no special reason, and I pray with boo-tay in the air, like a Muslim, simply because if I don't, I will limp away on prickly, nonexistent legs when finished.
Even if that happens, I always walk away with a lighter heart.
The next day I found myself back in my "prayer closet" for a different reason. I had been reading the Song of Solomon and was overcome once again with the realization that even though Jesus and I have been together for quite some time now (about 35 years), His love for me hasn't grown cold.
Sometimes I let myself believe, deep down, that He reserves His amazing forbearance and strongest affections for passionate and zealous new converts--"newlyweds." But with me--and my stubborn hangups and tenacious habits--He certainly gets tired, like a bored marriage partner.
But Dave is not like that. After seventeen years of marriage, his love for me has only grown.
Could it be that Jesus loves me thus? That He is unmoved by my "down days?" That I will always be close to His heart, and no desert wandering or dismal failure of mine will ever change that? That I am no disappointment to Him, despite days of apathy and seasons of complacency? That He is, in fact, not turned away from me with folded arms? That I can instantly step back into that flow of grace and power to do what He has asked me to do, as if I'd been there all along?
Once again, a rush of tears.
Where do you pray? And do you raise your--you know.
Oh my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the cliff, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely." --SS. 2:14
6 comments:
Thank you! Needed that reminder in this time of feeling unlovable. I generally just pray wherever I happen to be at the time. (kids think Mommy is going to have wrestling time if they find me on the ground) The times I do pray on my knees, the legs do fall asleep, so I will have to try this position.
Yes, Juli, it's difficult to set aside a regular prayer time when you're in those early years of mothering. I still pray everywhere: in the shower, in the car, while doing mindless housework.... As the kids have grown older I am back to my quiet time routine. Having a special place to meet with God facilitates shutting out everything around me. It will happen again for you!
It's therapeutic knowing that others go through similar bouts of discouragement. Not that I'd wish it on anyone, but at times, I feel like I'm the only one who ends up in the valley of despair. I, too, find prayer to be a key that guides me out of that place. Combine it with Scripture, as you have done, and we cannot stay oppressed for long. Lately, I have found that God adds tangle blessings like emails or letters or blogs like this one to confirm His love for me. Blessings and hugs.
See you in a twinkling,
Brenda
Yes, Brenda, we cannot do without His Word--it's food for the spirit! Glad you were encouraged. :)
It's always great to be reminded of God's love. We encounter a lot of different kinds of love in this life - Love from a spouse, a mother or father, a sister or brother, a friend and yes even an animal. Actually I think my dog Freddie loves me the best.
But God's love is unique. It is not explainable as a "kind" of love. It's the fullness of LOVE, and it never changes.
How awesome it will be when we get a full on look at it when we see Him face to face. Like WOW.
Well said, Jackie! God IS love.
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