Sorrow abounds...

My grandfather died.

I asked last night, how I could leave myself with Jesus.  I can't!  But my Good Shepherd can and will...even for someone who is as confused about church as am I.

He knew how much I longed for comfort, for the Gospel in a way I could understand.  He loves me so much that He gave me not one, or even two, but three to give comfort.  A deaconess talked with me and read to me from my beloved Psalter, not minding that I rang her in tears.  Two she chose, guided by the Holy Spirit: Psalms 90 and 77.  And then, in true generosity after spending time talking with me and encouraging me and explaining things to me, she asked me to chose one more.  I chose Psalm 104, in part because of the psalmist's charge in 77 to remember what God has done instead of allowing grief to be your truth.  The God who set the stars in the heavens, who wraps Himself with light as a garment, who set boundaries for the seas and feeds all of creation calls me by name from the remotes parts of the earth, claims me as His, is beside me in flood and fire, and even delights in me.  Those promises are magnified by the wonder and majesty of Psalm 104.

Then an undershepherd sent an email filled with such earnest words and clear speak that I could understand both the sweet, sweet Gospel and the truly gentle rebuke he had for me.  In fact, he wrote something I do not understand but suspect is a great big missing piece to the puzzle of faith that has been a source of despair to me.  I had hope even not understanding that I might, one day, understand.

And when my tears were overflowing once more, as I sat in the dark before bed, Bettina rang, her beloved husband and children fast asleep, so that I not be alone at the end of this hard, hard day after weeks of being ill and hurting and weary and confused and longing for the gifts of Christ I have been missing.  I marvel that she loves me.  It makes no bloody sense to me.  Even when I confound her she loves me.

Even when I struggled to believe Christ crucified for me, for Myrtle and not just for others, He loves me still.


Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief!