Counting excessive blessings today, blessings poured from a wounded and beautiful hand. How is it that one soul can experience joy from flashing red and blue lights? How a first can terrify, shake to the core, yet fill with a happy so odd that it's unexplainable. How grateful one becomes when the longing for the Savior starts to come on strong. When moments are needed, moments just spent with Him. I'm finding that I don't need to constantly be rigid in how I find Him, that's not who He is. It's not about a schedule or routine, but a secret finding Jesus in the little moments. Finding the gospel in the hard things, finding love in broken, finding grateful in ache. Blessings seem to come in all forms, shapes and sizes-people, weather, a song, simply life. I long to reach out and touch and receive some of those blessings, to hold, to give back. Some days the ache of life seeps in and touches a broken part of me. It takes the breath right out of me, and leaves me gasping for good, for blessing, for truth. Some moments the tears flow freely, breaking free from walls longing to crumble; then come the tragic moments where the concrete of the ache holds back pain from flowing, where deep has become safe, and light seems to create fear. And, some days I feel how He aches for me, how He cries for my pain, and longs for me to see, to see something different. Something tragically beautiful, a renewing of knowing the gospel, His heart. A renewing of the blessing of His scars, and poured-outness. A renewing of the cross, something sacred and cherished instead of pushed aside. A turn-the-world-upside-down kind of gospel-filled love. One where, willingness would give up everything, comfort, home, things, in return for His heart. One where we, I, would take up my cross and follow Him. One where the breaking for Him would be blessing instead of heartache. One where understanding for His gift, would outweigh selfish desires and longings. One where His will would be what I longed for instead of my own. One of pour-out giving of myself. Breaking apart for His truth. Finding blessing in each love-filled ache.
Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.
That one day, soon, I would live that verse. Through Jesus, and Him only, our strength, yet this hard-headed, stubborn one can barely get some days. So grateful for His grace in showing. Grateful for His love and discipline.