When it rains, it pours.
That very rain falls both on the good and evil. Yet, should I consider myself good even by my own standards, I naïvely expect some shelter from the Almighty as compensation for obedience.
So imagine my utter shock as I step out on the pavement and I am welcomed into the arms of a storm. The kind that has you clinging to the nearest branch as your legs flail helplessly, defying gravity.
One thing after another, a rebellious shower stamp’d upon my brow.
Why all at once, Lord. I would often plead. As one reads this one might imagine a delicate flower brushing against the wind, but in reality my voice matches the thunders that surround me.
The anger is undeniable. If I am Yours, why must I be the one to go through this?
A moment of truth has arrived. What seems like a chronic amount of time passes, the heart takes the wheel to the top and a moment of truth has arrived.
After everything I have done for You, why have You short-changed me in my hour of need?!
Doubt comes cross-dressed with disappointment to answer on His behalf, voice a mess; a cloud of chaos that reveals confusion as his game.
I let out a scream hoping desperation will unlock my Father’s deaf ears.
Silence. The storm has passed.
Taking my hands off my ears, I open my eyes and shut my mouth.
I’m in His arms. Wet and shivering but in His arms.
Even when I’ve forgotten to position myself in You, You have gone out of Your way to wrap Yourself around me, getting Yourself wet in the process. Almost as if You knew I was waiting for You to sustain me. I collapse into You, exhausted. So exhausted.
But as I wait upon You, You renew my strength. You allow me to be broken only to build me up again, stronger. And as I intertwine my fingers in Yours, my eyes now promising to never leave Yours, I’m ready for the next downpour.
Inspired by Chris T.
Thinking of: Peace and Byron Cage’s Thou Art a Shield for Me.