The LOSS – the losses – so much loss in this life. And the promise that He restores, here, and sometimes not until There. If I count the losses I begin to suffocate, with fear. Fear of more loss, and fear that the losses of yesterday will team up with the losses of now and steal hope completely away from me. Again.
And I see with natural eyes the mess, the pain, the threats that loom over my “today,” positioning themselves to repeat my yesterday and steal my tomorrow. And in the looking through these natural eyes, fear takes its spot, front and center, in my thoughts, wrapping around my heart and pulsing through my veins, screaming
What if? What if?
And it is so loud it drowns out that one still small voice that whispers,
I will restore.
And I reach for it, straining to hear the whisper and grab what can’t be held. It takes all my energy to press forward into the Promise that seems so intangible next to the reality of the losses. I waver, believing, and then fall headlong into what is seen, forsaking the unseen, relegating it into the corner I have named “Fantasy.”
And in the falling, the fear gains momentum and my thoughts spiral back into the hopeless reality that seems not to sit quietly in a corner, but instead fills every corner, every crack, every room of my heart.
As I fall into the dark, bottomless pit, Hope keeps whispering from its one lone corner, somehow forming a bottom to the bottomless pit.
I hit hard, this bottom – the place where the Whisperer decrees,
Enough. That is far enough.
And I find Him there again – and again and again, waiting not in the corner, but instead at the bottom of this familiar place.
And He is light.
And His light illuminates this place and gives me eyes to see – to see that in this dirty, dark, ugly, cold, alone place – He is there. Staring intently at me with that look that changes me. One look into His eyes, seen only because He brings light into this pit – one look brings back hope, unwraps fear from its death-grip on my heart and forms solid ground out of the mud beneath my feet.
And those eyes – they speak the loudest – louder than the losses, louder than the threats of today, louder than all of the darkness. They speak those words that I was straining to hear before I fell into the pit,
I WILL RESTORE.
And in this very moment of this day, those words are enough – enough to help me, once again, begin the ascent back up – back into the land where Hope and Promise seem to rule from that one obscure corner.
Oh, that I might steady my gaze there, that I might stay here.