I think this has to be one of the hardest weeks I've endured in quite some time. In fact, I don't think I've felt more like the walking wounded in at least a good five years.
I shouldn't be complaining. There's been a lot of deeply good in my life in the last five years. I live in a different town . . . am the undeserving recipient of the companionship of a number of amazing people . . . enjoy engaging in a number of challenging life experiences that have stretched and enlarged my view of myself and the world around me. The kind of stuff no one needs to set herself complaining about.
But there's a gaping wound and I find I'm in that place.
You know, the place you feel certain that the Lord will just walk right past you...might completely miss you as you sit with all your woundages, hunkered down in the trenches.
You know. That place.
It's been awhile since I've found myself here. It is an active monologue within my inner world to remind myself.
He is Good.
Whether you feel it or see it or hear it.
He is Good.
Deeply Good.
He is.
