Monday, December 21, 2015
Me and This Belief of Mine
This month of December has been one of the more difficult months in Heidian history. I won't say why because it's personal. But I will say this:
It was a test. I don't know if I passed, but I'm being blessed by God with exactly what I begged Him for. I begged Him to let me feel His love wrapping around me. I asked to know my worth to Him. And He is answering those prayers in a hundred little ways, such that His presence cannot be ignored or chalked up to fate or coincidence or any other silly happen stance.
Even if I were a rank unbeliever, which I'm not, the body of evidence would be unavoidable and starkly evident.
I am so grateful for the gift of his Son, our Elder Brother. I feel His regard daily. I know He loves me. I know He thinks enough of me to test me with some pretty serious things. And I know He waits to talk to me and to listen to what I have to say.
And someday I'm going to take all this anguish and the things I learn from it, and because I'm a writer, I'm going to write it.
Jesus lives. He sits at the right hand of God, the Father of it All. He watches over us and cares for us and directs us in our quest to come back to live with Him. He is our grandest cheerleader, our lighthouse, our signpost, our shepherd, and our rescuer. He cares even for the smallest of our pains. And He is right there to point the way, if we'll only listen to and serve Him.
Under the direction of our Heavenly Father, Jesus the Christ built this world for us. He set the rivers in their courses and the winds to blow. He released the birds into the air, and caused the mountains to thrust into the sky. He built the lilacs and lions and lemons.
And most of all, he came to this Earth, gained a body, served God, bore His testimony thousands of times, suffered for all our ills and sins and disappointments and inequities, and died for us.
But then, trailing clouds of glory, He rose from the dead allowing us the same opportunity. He broke the gates of death, making it possible for all of us to rise once again and join those who have gone before.
This month is when we celebrate the anniversary of His birth. How can I let personal misery cloud that offering, for which He suffered already? I can but give him my perfect allegiance, my time, and my mistakes.