The Land of the Living

Some days are so much harder than others. Some days uncovering the holy in the ordinary requires an excavation of your heart.

When you ask me how I’m doing, I want to turn and plaster on the bravado-smile and tell you that everything is fine.  Yet, there are days when nothing could be further from the truth.

Lately I’ve been struggling with doubt.  Daily I’ve needed to claw my way to a place of finding certainty in the promises of God.  Lately I’ve been struggling with unbelief – Oh Lord, please help my unbelief – as I look in every nook and cranny for the goodness of God.

If I look closely enough I can see how He has helped my unbelief.  He has brought me you.  Yes, you the one who I’d rather tell I’m fine, but instead I will sit right next to you on this bench we’ve built together. 

Bravado builds walls.  

Benches build hope.  

Hope builds joy.

There’s a simplicity we overlook when we forget that our wounds, our hurts need light to heal.  And, all too often that amnesia keeps us locked too long behind the walls of bravado when what we really need is hope.

The hope that has truth spilling over and washing away the dirt.  Hope that has me fighting for joy in the middle of the messy parts of me that I would really rather you didn’t see.

Sometimes living, real down and dirty living, means you fight for joy.  It means that you boldly proclaim the goodness of God despite the tumult of your heart. It means you drive a stake into the landscape of your heart and proclaim – I BELIEVE in the goodness of the Lord. 

Living means you sit yourself down on the bench that is built on the solid foundation of Christ and grab the hand of the sister next you and speak truth.  It means you skip the bravado and head straight to joy.

Sometimes living means you fight for JOY. 


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