Sometimes you stay hidden. I want you and I need you but I just can’t find you in the exact way that comforts my soul. You make great and majestic sunsets each evening, and for that I am truly thankful. But where are you in the lonely places of my heart that ache when they hope, and ache more deeply when they cannot hope? Just a week ago, I wonder where you were in my friend’s moment of greatest need, she who had so long sought to glorify you even through her deep struggle. She fought on only because she thought that somehow she could bring you glory. But you were hidden late that night when her desire to be with you forever overcame her desire to glorify you in brokenness here. I desperately want to believe that you will be with her husband and children, will comfort them and help them to heal. But if you stay hidden even in my small griefs and needs, how can I know without a shadow of a doubt that you will be there for them? In all of this I am not doubting you; I am doubting myself and my expectations of you. I know you are here. Unveil my eyes to see you in and around each day, to feel you weaving into my hollow and empty and broken places. I planted morning glories in my vegetable garden because I want beauty to wind its way around everything – the tidy rows of plants, the harsh metal of the tomato cages, even the unruly weeds. So come into the open, but come into the hidden places, wind the tendrils of your love around the unwieldy places of my soul and let your presence blossom.
Joining as usual with Five Minute Friday