I’ve been told many times by people who know me that I am a strong person. And it always feels weird. Because I don’t really feel strong on any given day.
Sometimes, in trial, I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of some chasm I can’t see the bottom of. Other times I can see it but I am afraid to jump – even though it might only be 3 feet below.
Occasionally I still get paralyzed with fear over things.
And cry over spilled milk.
Or dreams that feel lost.
He always, always, always shows up.
To rescue me from me.
Lifting my weary head & wiping away the salt lines that trail down.
To encourage me to keep dreaming.
To look up.
To let go.
To look away & onward.
Stirring the low-boil in my soul, protecting me from abject despair when it comes calling.
I am constantly amazed at how God just never leaves.
No matter my skulking.
My unbelief when it rears up.
He perfects His strength in me.
So it really isn’t me.
Much love & more Divine strength to every soul who reads these words,
(image courtesy of Ann Voskamp)