It’s a quiet morning on the lake.
A light fog has settled in, stretching a thin layer of gauze across the horizon.
The air is cool and misty laden. An intermittent drizzly haze.
Geese glide.
The world seems still ~ enveloped in silence.
Even birds, softly sleeping late into the morning. Tightly tucked.
Safe in their nests.
Blankets of feathers pulled up beneath their chin. Mama’s sit. Ruffled and warm on their tiny offspring.
Delicate eggs protected from spring’s lingering chill.
On the surface, water ripples.
A muskrat swims toward the shoreline. Eagerly anticipating the cozy dry of the den.
Finally home.
A well deserved rest.
Where is our respite when it rains?
When the constant barrage of chaos falls like an unrelenting downpour.
The perpetual struggle to harness our negative thinking. Maybe an impending storm of relational strain. Or a sudden flash of tragedy, flooding our minds with fear.
Calamities that douse us with doubt.
This is the language of loss.
Loss of a dream.
Loss of a love.
Loss of a life.
Sometimes the pain is a long, dull ache. A soul marred by loneliness. Charred by hurt and bathed in blackened bitterness.
Other times it is excruciating and intense. Those life-changing moments that catch us off-guard. Unwittingly unprepared. We sit dazed and despondent.
But no matter its presentation, loss pulls and strains with ropes knotted thick by wrong.
Taught with temptation.
Undulating in the unfair.
Tugging with constancy at the very fabric of our hearts.
I have recently watched as a friend has become buried in burden.
Decades of emotional pain piled on.
Piled high.
Suffocating under the weight of it all.
Her body responds ~ succumbing to the stress. Disease and fatigue become familiar residents.
Her soul struggling.
She questions her fortitude.
Wondering in the silence of night if she has the strength to hang on.
Hours tick past.
Her will dwindling like the stars in the morning sky.
…
This season of life can be tainted as we witness so much suffering.
Aging friends and languid loves.
Bodies torn.
Minds fragmented.
A generation desperately longing for the wholeness of youth.
All the while, the searing of sin etches another diagnosis.
Dreams shattered by the image on a scan.
The trajectory of a life radically changed.
Days once filled with dancing are now spent aching for answers.
Seeking direction.
Hoping for healing.
And all over again, the enemy delights in our misfortune. His opportunity for distraction ~ attempting to lead us past the pain and into despair.
Tempting us beyond our boundaries of strength.
Where our minds can easily become besieged by lies.
So, if not the blindfolding of this burden, what can we do to shield ourselves from the storms.
Psalm 34:18
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
I can remember the smooth of the wood under my bare feet.
The hallway in my childhood home.
And summer storms.
The thunder and lightning terrified me. I would run crying and screaming up and down that hall feeling so scared. So frightened.
So alone.
Until my big brother would come out of his room, get down on his knees and wrap his arms around me. Then he’d say, “Whoa, kiddo…that’s just the angels bowling in heaven, don’t you know?”
He held me for awhile until I had calmed down. Gently he wiped my tears and then he’d smile at me.
And I was OK again.
…
Today, the raw aftermath of life’s storms still send me running.
Searching for the arms of comfort.
To the listening ear of a faraway friend who feels closer at the other end of the telephone. To the arms of someone near wrapping a warm hug ’round my weary body. Picking up a beloved feline, the welcome purr of intuition and understanding.
How grateful we are for those that God has placed in our support circles.
But what happens after the phone call ends?
When the embrace has been released?
We come to learn that these remedies are fleeting. Soon we find ourselves left alone with our sense of loss once more.
Our grief.
Our sadness.
These outlets provide only temporary relief.
And fortunately for us, this world is only a temporary residence.
You see, our wondrous God could have left it there.
After the Cross He could have abandoned us.
To leave us on our own. Merely enduring our time spent in this broken world until we have eternal life with Him.
(An unfathomable gift in and of itself.)
Instead… our Heavenly Father cares for us with such an awe-inspiring an infinite love that He gives us even more.
As if eternal life isn’t enough, He promises to be with us in this landscape of loss.
Through the wilderness of wandering.
In the depths of the despair.
And in the deserts of our discontent.
This is the kind of love that reaches light-years beyond our limited thinking.
A love that will seek us out to the ends of the earth.
To find us, wrap His arms around us and say,
“Whoa, kiddo. Breathe for a minute and rest here with me. You can stop worrying. I’ve got this.
I’ve got you.”
John 16:33
I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.
As softly as the dew whispers in the sunrise, we can hear Him.
We can take our pain that only Christ can understand, into the light of Grace. For it is only there in the promise of His Glory that we can find respite.
Lasting comfort.
True peace.
Home.
And though I can’t begin to imagine the heartache that you may be enduring today, I do know that Heaven knows the end to your struggle.
I know that you are immensely and forever loved.
Without end.
May you dance once again in this knowing today!
And I pray that you find a breath of contentment in the arms of our Jesus.
My Sweet Louise 
Please share your thoughts.