May It Be So: A Little Update and God's Never-Giving-Up Love

“I’m staying for the second service, too. My heart’s been kind of hard, and this is a sermon I really need. So I’m hoping it will help to hear it again,” I said to my pastor’s wife as she was leaving.

“May it be so,” she said with a smile and an understanding nod.

I whispered those words to myself as I took my seat. “May it be so.”

And I worshiped again. Again, my pastor delivered the much-needed word by the grace of God. Again I heard of God’s love and promise – His covenant-keeping faithfulness. To Israel. To me.

I cannot earn His love. It’s simply placed on me.

I wanted this to sink in. I wanted it to permeate my heart, mind, and soul.

And then as everyone lined up to take communion, I walked to the back of the sanctuary towards my pastor for prayer.

And it was in His loving grace that as my pastor prayed over me, as he reminded me that God is using this painful time to mold me even if it’s not the means that we’d choose, and as he told me that this is when a lot of people walk away from God but it was apparent that I wanted to know God more and to see Him, my heart broke.

Something lifted that day. The Lord removed the heavy weight of hopelessness from my heart. My eyes began to open again to His goodness. I had thought that that was that. That it would be smooth sailing from there.

But the ache, grief, and resentment that I had stored away – buried under the surface as I walked around in a numb trance – it came rushing out of the new cracks in my hard heart that night.

I was lying in bed when suddenly I was taken aback by the guttural sobs that wracked my body. I cried even more as my cat ran away in fear – just another someone abandoning me in my mess. (Yes – I looked back at this only 20 minutes later to laugh at the ridiculousness of it.)

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Tell me what’s wrong.” I had managed to walk out to the kitchen to find my mom.

In that moment, as I stood there with her arms around me, I tried to slow my breathing. I took a deep breath in, inhaling her scent. And slowly breathing out, I thought of our conversation a couple of nights prior to that. Her eyes sad when telling me she was tired of being sick. I was the one hugging her that time, trying to comfort her. In this moment – as my shoulders started to shake less and my heart rate started to slow – I felt like a child again. If I closed my eyes I could pretend like the last twelve years hadn’t happened – that she wasn’t sick. I could pretend that I had all the time in the world with her. In that moment, it all came rushing back – the long nights of asking God to heal her, long nights of chemo drip-dripping through the IV tubing that snaked its way down and into her blood, just for the cancer to start acting up again, the trips to the ER, the medical jargon I learned far before I decided to go to nursing school, all the different pills I had to take to try to make the hurt go away and for joy to return, all the hospital rooms. It was like none of it had happened in that fleeting moment in the kitchen. I begged God for that moment to last.

But that’s not how it works.

So when the moment had passed, and I was able to stop crying and start talking, I recognized the truth of the story God has written for my beautiful mother and me. I acknowledged the truth of time passing and the fact that we can’t freeze it or go back. We can only go forward.

I sat on the couch with her and talked through my thoughts and feelings. Sorting out truth from lies.

And as I went to bed that night, I felt it. Peace. God’s perfect peace covered me. He leaned in and whispered, “I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. Yes, this world will continue to disappoint you – because nothing on this side of eternity will save you. Not your friends. Not your mom. Not your job. Only I can satisfy, darling. And I know you think I’m disappointed in you – but I’m not. I’m just jealous for your heart.”

This week has been so, so good. My baby steps are becoming more frequent – my footing more sturdy. The Lord gifted me with so many beautiful friends this week to speak truth to my heart, to encourage me, to laugh with me. I have been reading His Word. I have been journaling. I have been going out. I have been walking. I have been praying. All by the grace of my good, good Father.

He owes me nothing. But yet, He has given me everything. And He continues to give me undeserved gifts of His goodness.

I am so thankful that our Heavenly Father is in the business of never giving up. Because even when I think I’m ready to, He tells me “Oh, daughter, wait! Just watch. I’m going to do something so marvelous!”  And I know that even if He brings about marvelous gifts on this side of eternity, every last bit of those gifts will pale in comparison to eternity spent with Christ. He is my hope. Let Him be yours, friend. Keep going. Don't give up. And when you can't pray, ask someone else to. Jesus is alive and active. He will allow hard things to happen, yes. But keep pressing closer to Him. You'll behold His glory. And He's worth it. I promise.

“Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” ~ Isaiah 40:28-31

“Know therefore that the LORD your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations,” ~ Deuteronomy 7:9

“His delight is not in the strength of the horse, nor his pleasure in the legs of a man, but the LORD takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love.” ~ Psalm 147:10,11