I have had this reoccurring vision of a dawning sun. It is bright. Glorious. This glowing orange orb nearly too bright to look upon without squinting. It burns away the darkness and the cold. It spreads out its wings across the land and sky. And it is imminent.
Over the last several years, so many loved ones have suffered. At times it has been almost unbearable to walk along-side. At times, we have had to stop to just cry. The lyrics from Florence and the Machine's anthem, "Shake it Out," resonate in my spirit: It's always darkest before the dawn.
At times, we have sensed God's golden purpose threading its way through the tapestry of conflict, betrayal, and uncertainty. We have heard the faintest whisper of His promises. And there are days when we are overwhelmed by them. Moments when all we can see or feel is His all-consuming Love. Thank God for those days.
Today, my heart is squeezed. Too much on my plate. Too many loved ones broken. Weak.
And He whispers, "My strength is perfected in your weakness, my child. My love." Could it be His grace to allow this suffering? Could it be His furious love that allows us . . . even leads us down a path that seems to end in absolute darkness?
Could it be His long-suffering passion that allows us to hate Him? To question Him? To feel betrayed by Him? Because He knows that we were created to be in-dwelt by Him. To be fully reliant upon Him. To live inside of His strength. To be one with Him.
Does He allow us to follow this dark path, which we have chosen because we still have some measure of independence—some notion of self-importance and indispensability, because He knows that, once we have come to the end of ourselves, we will finally be ready? We will finally say, "Not my will but Yours." We will finally experience that surge of power that comes from His Spirit within us, which raises us to our feet with the triumphant cry of the resurrected!
Yannah Mary
