I haven’t updated in awhile, and I really don’t know where to start. Sometimes God teaches me so many lessons at once, it’s hard to break into bite-sized pieces.
Currently I’m in Seattle for a doctor’s appointment. I hate hospitals. Well, it’s probably needles I hate more–but they always seem to go together. Sometimes medical visits are like prayer; you come with a problem, looking for a solution or an answer, and often the prognosis can be painful. Or just plain awkward. Or both.
Anyway, I’ve actually spent a lot of time in the hospital recently, visiting a dear family friend who has been very sick.
During an especially critical time, there were many prayers being offered up and verses shared via Facebook–so many believers petitioning for the life of this same friend. In my own prayer time, I found myself experiencing an extra measure of humility, as I was making requests to the only One who can truly grant them. When moments were especially dark and scary, I felt closer to God than I had in awhile–and I realized there was so much pride I had laid aside in the process.
It was really convicting! Isn’t it terrible that *we* are the ones who raise barriers between us and God? Instead of relying on the Holy Spirit to intercede on our behalf before the throne, we raise our pride and say, “I can do it! I am mighty!”
…until one of our own barriers falls and smashes our heads in.
I hate it, I really do.
In the midst of all this, I’ve also been listening through songs on my iPod–something I usually trade for the radio when I’m driving. For me, each song is like an entry from a spiritual journal, reminding me of places in my life where I would worship God through music during certain trials.
Songs of waiting, songs of hoping, songs of forgiveness, songs of praise.
Life really comes in seasons, doesn’t it? Sometimes the blessings seem beautiful and abundant, sometimes the trials seem overwhelming and unending, sometimes there’s a boring, dull grey and sometimes the air is peaceful and crisp.
And other times, it feel like God just jumbles it all up leaves us confused–like today’s August rain.
But He is still in control, despite seasons and sickness, despite rulers and authorities, despite uncertainties and human error.
He always comes through, and He gives us a testimony–whether through songs or memories or journaled entries–of how He’s walked with us each step of the way. Sometimes He carries us, sometimes He kinda drags us, sometimes He’s just alongside.
But He never leaves us or forsakes us. Even when life is crazy. Even in August rain.
jess leigh hanna 