Is That You, God?

I sank into my big red chair with my morning coffee. Why I recalled the minutiae of a day years before, I don't know. Maybe it was the quality of light beyond the window or the chill in the air on that fall morning. Whatever it was, it triggered memories of another autumn day when tears were fresh and hope had been trampled under the heel of sorrow. Or, maybe it was God saying, "Let's try this again."  


My mind wandered to a day shortly after Tara’s death, after we buried her daughter Alden, and before her son Spencer came to live with us. I remembered reading a sympathy card from a friend that included a hand written note, “Don’t let this make you lose your faith.” I recalled the numbness of new grief. I recalled my fear for Spencer who, moments after his mother's funeral, was taken to live in another state. Tortured thoughts of his plight had blocked healing and escalated my pain. At the time, I found my friend's words about losing faith shocking. In retrospect, I could see how dangerously close I had come to doing just that.

I remembered putting the sympathy card aside to turn on the television in an attempt to fill the room with mind-numbing sound until darkness gave me permission to escape to the mercy of sleep. I tuned in to the voice of a southern gentleman. To whom he spoke and about what I don’t remember, but I do remember his words.  
   

“Don’t give up, dahlin’,” he said to someone. “When these things ahcur, we just hafta hamma hamma hamma down the haaaahrd  hiiiway of liiiiife.”

Who knew God has a southern accent?

Twice in a matter of moments, I received encouragement--a card from a friend and the happenstance of words on a television program. Both reminded, “Don’t lose your faith. When these things happen, we just have to hammer, hammer, hammer down the hard highway of life.” But twice I did not hear. 

What hammers and highways have to do with each other I don't know, but in remembering the coincidences of a day long past, I could see. All along God had known the needs of my soul better than I. I recalled the words that had been given for strength and for courage. This time I listened. 


Keep the faith, hold on to hope, and always, always persevere.


It is said that God sometimes speaks through the mouths of people we encounter along the way, and if you think you are getting a message from God, pay attention. It might really be God, especially if you hear it more than once, and if it washes a wound in the hidden recesses of your soul.

Reflections:

Be strong and courageous; do not be terrified; do not be discouraged for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. (Joshua 1:9)

When the world says, "Give up," Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."~Author Unknown

It helps, I think, to consider ourselves on a very long journey; the main thing is to keep the faith, to help each other when we stumble or tire, to weep and press on. ~Mary Richards


--What are my thoughts about the possibility of God "speaking" through others? 


--Have I had an experience of someone's words seeming to be a message for me?  If so, what happened?


--How do I respond to the thought that when I don't know how to pray the spirit searches my heart and prays for me?


--Have I experienced a time when I struggled with my faith? If so, what were the circumstances.  Has anything changed? If so, what?


--Am I struggling  now? What is my prayer?