Truly bad hair day notwithstanding, and “joyful” spelled backwards in the mirror, what began with sadness ended with the kind of joy that seems impossible but never fails to find its way back in.
Thursday was a quiet reminder of God’s nearness and a promise that even when the ache is real, His comfort is too.
His grace sufficient arrives, steadying what trembles, holding what feels too heavy, and meeting us in every place we think we’re alone.
Because I never want to be careless with your heart, please know, beloved, that none of the hard-fought victories I share are meant to minimize your grief or pretend it doesn’t cut deep, but to offer this small hope: it won’t always hurt this badly. I promise.
In the words of Anne Lamott, we will always dance with a limp, yes. But joy does—joy will—return, often in the most unexpected ways.
And maybe that’s its own kind of miracle: that even in the mess and the ache and the backwards-spelled days, mercy is still making its way toward us.
Always.
“And He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
𝐈𝐈 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝟏𝟐:𝟗
“Joy and sorrow are sisters; they live in the same house.”
~ 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐢 𝐍𝐨𝐮𝐰𝐞𝐧
“May you know the grace that lives in the shadow of loss.”
~ 𝐉𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧