Puzzled

God puzzles me.

Why so similar? Why now? Why couldn’t He separate them and make them different – their burdens and mine?

Perhaps so that I would not walk with them from a place of pride, knowledge and self-righteousness.

For if there’s any time I know weakness, nothingness and vulnerability, it is now.

So I have few words to offer, except the ones I tell also to myself. Little strength to give, except the empathy I’m wired to pour out. The same time I’m listening, I fight and rebuke my own fear. For every hour of their narratives, I spend three hiding in God, soaking in truth.

Somehow, in some strange way, they derive comfort from the little I am able to say. By means I do not understand, they are helped. So God reminds me, in this way, that HE is the one at work. Weak as I am, He’s chosen to pull me along for the journey. Refuses to let me stand at the side and observe safely. Nope – dunked right into the deep end. Yet, at the same time, I am still firmly in His grasp. Just as they are.

Why, Lord? You really puzzle me. You are such a mystery.

*

How timely! A great story from my friend JL’s blog: Despite Our Own

[Picture source: A Heart A Day]

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About lilac butterfly

Live. Love. Learn. Laugh. Write. Draw. Colour. Blend. Play. Dream. Cry. Reflect. Pray. Sing. Worship. Bake. Cook. Rest. Give thanks.

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