I’m not sure where to start today . . . there’s an emptiness that’s moved inside, a heaviness of despair it seems, that’s taken residence in me. Have I invited it to stay? Despair a kind of cloaking thread that keeps the busy world away as I traipse slowly on instead? I doubt this is how You would have me live, abundant life promised to us. Yet . . . in these shadows dark and grim there is richness found to mine within. Ok. I’ll trust to find out why, and what the lessons I should learn. To seek and find rebuke or praise, admonition or cheering on this way.
Meanwhile, LORD, would You care for those my heart is breaking o’re with grief? And if I’m to DO love t’wards them some way, You’d reveal what way that is best? I’m stuck here it seems, creative joy losing it’s bright nourishment. Although in writing out my heart I sense an inkling of content. Perhaps honesty is what that is. Facing down the gloomy doom. And laying it before Your feet, with praise: You’ve overcome this tomb!