One of Bobby's nieces is having a really tough time at school right now. When she called to wish him Happy Birthday, she confessed that she'd cried at school every day last week. So I gave her the gratitude challenge (in her case, to find 2 things to be thankful for during every class), and the next day we texted her during the day, including a passage of Psalm 3: But you O Lord, are a shield for me, the maker and the lifter of my head.
And I've needed that verse so very much myself this week.
2017 is starting much the way 2016 ended...surrounded by hurting people. Yesterday we went to visit a friend at the hospital. I bypassed the information desk for the restroom. On my way out of the restroom, I rounded the corner and found his wife leaning against the wall outside the chaplain's office, trying to text someone and not cry. I don't care how much you've watched a loved one suffer, there's a small part of us that never wants to realize we're pages away from the ending of a book in our life's series.
Last night a family friend was rushed into emergency surgery. My nieces began the drive from TN to NC last night so they can see their "Poppa". It's another one of the scenarios where I don't know how to pray. I tend to alternate between "Lord, Help!" and "Lord, you know..."
And he does. And the older I get, the more I realize the Great Physician heals our emotional and mental state just as much, if not more, than our finite physical being. Or as David wrote: our maker lifts our heads.
And I've needed that verse so very much myself this week.
2017 is starting much the way 2016 ended...surrounded by hurting people. Yesterday we went to visit a friend at the hospital. I bypassed the information desk for the restroom. On my way out of the restroom, I rounded the corner and found his wife leaning against the wall outside the chaplain's office, trying to text someone and not cry. I don't care how much you've watched a loved one suffer, there's a small part of us that never wants to realize we're pages away from the ending of a book in our life's series.
Last night a family friend was rushed into emergency surgery. My nieces began the drive from TN to NC last night so they can see their "Poppa". It's another one of the scenarios where I don't know how to pray. I tend to alternate between "Lord, Help!" and "Lord, you know..."
And he does. And the older I get, the more I realize the Great Physician heals our emotional and mental state just as much, if not more, than our finite physical being. Or as David wrote: our maker lifts our heads.
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