It was only just a week or so ago that I celebrated my return back to you following an extended period of illness and heartache.
Just four hours after I posted the mama bird blog below, I was at the doctor, being diagnosed with pneumonia. Several days of increasing pain had necessitated the visit, but even with the pneumonia, the severity of the pain left the doctors scratching their heads.
By the next morning, the pain was unbearable. I spent the day at the ER, because my doctors were concerned I might have a pulmonary embolism. Praise the Lord, I did not. The CT scan was clear.
The following day (yesterday) all the dots were finally connected from a medical standpoint. I started breaking out in a rash in all the places where the pain had been most intense. I went back to the doctor and he confirmed it. I have a rip-roaring case of shingles.
Iโm on two different meds to address this newest development, but canโt tell theyโve helped at all yet, with either the spread or the pain.
To be completely honest with you, Iโm disappointed. Mere days ago, I was ready to jump back in, joyful and expectant and ๐๐จ๐ง๐ฏ๐ข๐ง๐๐๐, down to the marrow of my bones, that God is up to something with my life.
On the heels of such divine anticipation, this most recent timeout has left me feeling aimless.
Or, adrift, maybe.
Like, once again Iโve lost my moorings.
I must wait a bit longer, now.
๐ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐ ๐ง๐จ ๐๐ก๐จ๐ข๐๐.
That is the unwelcome conclusion at which I have arrived.
I donโt have to like it, but that doesnโt mean I should waste it, either. I can embrace the โrestโ that has been decreed over me, and avail myself to ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ that my time there waits to teach me.
They are not arbitrary, you know, these times of โrest.โ Neither are they without benefit. The day is coming when we will look back and marvel at Godโs power to transfigure the things we most wanted to avoid.
And when we finally see Him face to face, weโre going to be so glad we chose Him. Weโll finally know for a fact what weโd only hoped could be true before: That nothing was wasted, that all of it mattered, and that our trust in Him was never, not for a moment, misplaced.
Iโm reminded of this lovely devotional found in Streams in the Desert, by Margaret Cowman. Please take the time to read it. I pray it blesses you as it has me, and opens your eyes to the ways God works during your own moments of โrest.โ
See you soon, my beloveds.
You are never out of my heart.
You are always in my prayers.
I love you dearly.
Always,
๐ฉ๐๐
๐๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ข๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ญ:
~ Matt 14:13
โThere is no music in a rest, but there is the making of music in it.โ In our whole life-melody the music is broken off here and there by โrests,โ and we foolishly think we have come to the end of the tune.
God sends a time of forced leisure, sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts, and makes a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives; and we lament that our voices must be silent, and our part missing in the music which ever goes up to the ear of the Creator.
How does the musician read the โrest?โ See him beat the time with unvarying count, and catch up the next note true and steady, as if no breaking place had come between.
Not without design does God write the music of our lives. Be it ours to learn the tune, and not be dismayed at the โrests.โ They are not to be slurred over, not to be omitted, not to destroy the melody, not to change the keynote. If we look up, God Himself will beat the time for us. With the eye on Him, we shall strike the next note full and clear.
If we sadly say to ourselves, โThere is no music in a โrest,โโ let us not forget โthere is the making of music in it.โ The making of music is often a slow and painful process in this life. How patiently God works to teach us! How long He waits for us to learn the lesson!โ
~ ๐๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ค๐ข๐ง