I’d woken early that day, managed to catch the first tentative rays of incipient dawn breaking into the grey leaden gloom of a winter morn.
My soul was soothed by the sight of sky sighing out its pale-rose beauty.
Marvelling anew at the glory signs, my thoughts tumbled out in these poetic lines:
Dawn of a new day
Soft skies yawn
for silver streaks
of muted grey”
So far, Winter has wrapped itself round me like a duvet, a smothering, muffling cover.
It’s been an invitation to rest, to sleep, to recover from a month of being flu-filled, bed and housebound, hibernating and waiting for a semblance of life to return to these weary bones.
Though, no matter how weak and worn we may feel, God is always whispering through each day to ears, eyes and heart ready to receive His voice.
In the natural, my own morning-misted eyes see poorly with the softened, blurry, distorted vision of myopia, but my inner spiritual lenses enable me to see life more clearly.
I can see and sense enough to grasp that here lies invitation to embrace new beginnings, a new day, a new season, a new perspective even if only faintly seen and understood.
Sometimes, we yearn to bring things into brighter focus, at others we are glad to see imperfectly.
Maybe prefer to turn our faces to the wall, hide in the dark, bury ourselves in anything rather than looking with a clear-eyed gaze at all that fills our lives, and all that lies beyond our current state of knowing.
We feel like we can barely handle the minutes before us, never mind hours, days, weeks or months. And who knows what the future may hold?
Life can weigh heavy and tip us sideways. It can be a real effort to remain stable.
I’ve felt like that lately. Have hardly had the wherewithal to face the day, let alone the next, and so on. Each one bleeding slow into another, seeping away into dark corridors of sickness and pain.
And now? I have been resting beneath the shadow of Abba Father’s wings, pausing to be at peace, to receive all the comfort and protection I need from the One whom no foe can withstand.
Externally, wintry weather persists, but internally I feel like I’m having an early Spring, a surfacing of sorts, a moving toward the light.
Hope is rising. There is (finally!) far more to life than a bed full of soggy tissues, the smell of eucalyptus and menthol permeating the air, painkillers, throat soothers and hot lemon drinks (with honey) at hand.
There is a future to this year beyond influenza. God is healing me, slowly but perceptibly. Some measure of strength and energy is returning ~ hooray!
As I come alive to life again, I have a deep gratitude for being able to breathe easy, to sniff scents other than medicinal ones, to eat with some appetite and without food tasting like cotton-wool, to have a voice that isn’t always too croaky to have a conversation, or ears too blocked to hear.
My mind is ready to read a bit more, to begin to think clearly, to focus, prepare for the new things God wants to reveal to me.
Yes, I will still need to rest, pace and pause from too much interaction or busyness of mind and body to avoid relapsing. That’s a given for someone with M.E and chronic illness.
I won’t stop learning more about being thankful, recording the positive in the midst of adversity, seeing God’s hand at work in the everyday minutiae and being grateful for small mercies.
Because they are always there. We don’t always need to put glasses on or contact lenses in to see them. He finds a way to make things clear when we look to Him and ask Him to make our hearts tender and receptive.
Dependency and weakness may feel challenging to our independent souls, whereas they can become the very vehicles God uses to reveal His goodness and grace to us most of all, an opening to deeper knowing.
“My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness” ~ 2 Corinthians 12:9 (The Message)
Over to you
How has God manifested His grace and strength to you recently?
Have you been able to see God’s hand at work in your trials and tribulations?