When the clouds form, it is hard to remember that the beauty of the sun stands in stark contrast to the threatening dark skies. How can I remember that joy can be found in - and even because of - the heavy drops that fall and the puddles that gather? Maybe it is not just what the storms produce but also the storm itself that I can be thankful for. Not that I have already obtained all this, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.
Because I need to remember again today, I am pasting in a story I wrote for our family's newsletter. {For those who don't know, we are missionaries with Sacred Road on the Yakama Indian Reservation here in Washington state and we write monthly updates to those who support us in prayer and financially. This story took place on a Sunday night at our baby church composed mostly of children and youth}
I observed the faces across from me, the wiggly bodies, the little mouths that moved in time with mine, singing praises to our King. I glanced at the little faces right next to me on my bench, the ones who have my blue eyes. They were singing too - "My God is so BIG! So strong and so MIGHTY!" Many smiles, many serious gazes, but all together here at the Longhouse for Hope Fellowship's church service.
We paused in singing to listen to our pastor, Chris Granberry, as he introduced our role in a responsive reading. It was a simple translation of a passage in Psalms that many of us are familiar with - "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases." Only this time our response to his call was "God's love never fails." A fitting recitation for a people who have been failed by so many. I teared up as I continued to see all those same little mouths reciting over and over - "God's love never fails."
It never does, you know- it never fails us. In the dark moments of the hospital room, in the joy of the summer morning - God's love never fails.
The other day I was working and listening to my girls who were playing nearby. Lyddie found an old journal of mine and was pretending to read out of it. Her innocent and childish "reading" went something like this. "And then God made the world. And God's love never fails. I love God and he never sins. God never fails. He loves us. His love never fails..." Millie occasionally punctuated her stream with "He neeeeeeever fails!" Call and response right in my living room.
These things matter. It is my prayer that God will recall to mind His steadfast love to me, to my children, and the children of White Swan all the days of their lives. In the darkness and in the light, He neeeeeever fails.
I am forcing my stiff fingers to bend around and cling to that truth as the cares of this earth do their best to rob me of joy in Christ Jesus. Here I stumble forward, commanding first one knee to bend and then the other, to come before Him in humility. I cry for His help as I again pry open the bars of my heart to see and feel His love, His blessing of salvation at the cost of His very life. I must again know and feel His assurance that I should be strong and courageous, not terrified of anything and not discouraged, because He Himself is with me wherever I go (Joshua 1:9).
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