Back to the Story

I'm really sorry to write the story and then come to the ending and just stop for awhile.  It wasn't meant.  It wasn't because it was difficult or for any reason.  We just had/have some unexpected problems going on.  They are still going on, but they are becoming our new normal... things we have to learn to live with.  Oh, they still take up time, energy, prayers... but the stunned shock is wearing off, and we are learning to ask ourselves "How now do we work?"  In the work we do, we have had to ask ourselves that a few times, so I do not despair, but hope.

You see, way back when my husband got out and was coming home, the day I left very good friends to meet him and then fly home together, a song began to play in my head.  Over and over and over this song played for the next three weeks - through the pain, through the confusion... I could not stop it.

But I began to listen to it and began to pray.  There are times that God quietly tells me something.  This song both encouraged me and made my heart heavy.

It was the song, "God of this City" by Bluetree sung by Chris Tomlin:

You're the God of this City
You're the King of these people
You're the Lord of this nation
You are

You're the Light in this darkness
You're the Hope to the hopeless
You're the Peace to the restless
You are

There is no one like our God
There is no one like our God

[Chorus]
For greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this City
Greater thing have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this City

There is no one like our God
There is no one like our God

Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done in this City
Greater things have yet to come
And greater things are still to be done here

Why was my heart heavy?  Because I have lived long enough to know that when God begins to do greater things, that there is often a greater counterattack, an increase in persecution, in difficulty, in troubles.  The enemy does not give up ground without a fight.

So my heart was hopeful, but watchful.  Wary.  Praying.  For weeks, while struggling through our recovery, I kept my eyes on God quietly watching.  "What are You doing?  What is going to come?"  And praying... quiet, watchful prayer for our country.

Greater things are still to be done in this city.  I watch and pray.  And realize that greater things mean greater persecution, too.  It has begun, and my heart is heavy for brothers and sisters in pain.

This was the reason for the silence.  It was the silence of watchful prayer.  Please be praying for those of our family all over the world who are enduring hardship as followers of Christ.  Many of their stories will not be told until we are together rejoicing, but they need our prayers.

I know that now more than ever, having been given a glimpse of their road that I was not asked to walk.

But, I'd like to return to my story here, too.  Because the end is always the best part, and we follow a God who brings good out of pain.  Who comforts even what seems inconsolable.

And I'd like to tell His story.