Maybe it's the mood of the moment framed perfectly by the quietness of the hour, soft tones of Blind Pilot playing, and a good cup of tea... but I sure am feeling nostalgic. I've been looking back at my time here, all the ups and downs and I feel gratitude in a whelming tide. To be so rescued from myself, to watch dumbfounded as my Lord worked tirelessly while I sat in the ashes and scratched at my sores with broken pieces of pottery. Like Job, I had to have the excess stripped before I could really receive all the good things prepared for me. I believe that sometimes God will let us feel His absence (not to be confused with Him actually being absent) to encourage us to rely less on feelings and more on faith. I was guilty of chasing the feelings, the spiritual highs, making the emotions an idol. For the past several months, a spiritual numbness was my constant companion. Yet every time I prayed, asking God to draw near and return the passion for Him to me to ease my doubts, the answer was always the same. "Choose me. Choose faith." So I prayed, feeling I was having a one-sided conversation. I read my bible with no fire or desire. I struggled, blind, deaf, and dumb.
Lately though, He has returned full-force and it's a sweet homecoming. I feel His presence and His peace and I appreciate it so much more. The contrast is overwhelming. It's so profound I find myself sneaking away during the day to be alone with Him. It is just such a joy to practice the presence of God and enjoying full and absolute acceptance that comes, and to be fully understood, fully known, and fully loved.
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