where waves grow sweet

Just as I finished writing my last post, the whole flood of my pain and tears was soaked up in an instant. It was almost as if the day’s sorrow had accomplished its purpose, cleansing the ground and watering the seeds. I walked the rest of that day on the miracle of dry ground with a peaceful heart. I don’t totally understand it, but there always seems to be healing in writing – and sharing. So thank you for being a significant part of my healing by lending your heart to listen and encourage. Seriously, thank you.

You may have noticed the “&” that follows “brave” on my necklace. That’s because the charm was made out of a Ugandan coin that was separated into two parts, meant to be worn together. The second part says “Chosen.” Brave & Chosen. I have been focused on being brave, facing this trial as best as I can with a raw trust born of the Spirit. But after my post, I started to think about being chosen. Not just as a daughter adopted into God’s family where I am loved and have access to all that is His, but also chosen to carry His image in such a time as this.

Don’t get me wrong. It was not God’s heart for my son to take his life. That has the enemy’s fingerprints all over it. But when anything is put into God’s hands, no matter how ugly and wretched and painful, it is transformed into something of beauty and purpose. So I do feel chosen for this particular cross; not just to survive it, but to see His kingdom come and His will be done through it.

Because maybe it’s not just about me trusting God for the bravery required, but Him trusting me to represent His heart in this dark place, where many are suffering and in need of comfort. At the moment, I feel like I’m wandering down a dark street with a little flashlight, but maybe that small light will draw others toward it. And maybe, as we join together in the light of His love and His ability to make us whole, dawn will break and we will find ourselves walking in the miracle of bright sun with joyful hearts.