It is what it is... yet it still stinks.
Even as our eyes look to the heavens in mystic disbelief we simultaneously grant God the praise only our Sovereign could deserve. He gives and he takes away; blessed be his name. And by his name we will continue to stand.
Calm before the storm
So this is life’s new norm?
Above on high to reach
For Him on high to teach.
We look to Him who knows
Just how this storm it blows.
He’s our Shelter from on High
We believe this even as we sigh.
Waiting in the ambiguity of a loss that’s both here yet also coming, there is the Presence of God in this very space because we have looked heavenward.
And as we look to the Truest Guide we are taught some lessons we hardly expected to learn: the transcendent beauty of truth given in love; that love is known by truth’s courage to step out in faith because it’s right; that what is not easy for some to communicate (but that which is their job) is most willingly received, because we desire to do God’s will every step of the way.
Dark clouds looming
In the distance booming
Life’s storms in they roll
Our innocence they stole.
But His purpose rose above
In the storm we knew love
Buffeted by the winds, we hope!
The Lord is our strength to cope.
As dark clouds loom off there in the yonder, the tension in the air as the wind stirs away a little, the eerie dryness preceding a panting precipitation; it’s all being experienced. And, yet, this too is true: we cannot possibly be prepared for the actual character of that vicious cyclonic system to beset us.
The winds seem ever distant, and they produce an anticipation for fear almost unrealisable now but evermore known for what could be. The mind is opened to dark possibilities without the mind being able to conceive the look and feel of those same possibilities. The heart rests, but it finds it a bizarre kind of rest; should it rest – and should it be appropriate to rest?
In all of it – the surreal way station of life as it is right now – there is God, unchanging and unchangeable.
God is there, alright, and we can know his unshakable reality by the experience of reality as it’s touched by his peace.
© 2014 S. J. Wickham.