Sometimes I wish I could physically, in the tangible flesh, run into His arms.
When those days show up that you just can’t seem to get anything right. When those days show up that you feel as if the weight of the world is sitting right on your chest, bouncing up an down. When those days show up that every wrong word, every wrong emotion, every wrong thought comes to the surface and you can’t seem to push them down.
Yeah. Those days.
When those days come, my very first thought is, ‘I wish I could just run as hard as I can, jump up on His lap, bury my face in His chest and just sit there for as long as I want.’ But physically, tangibly, I can’t. So I imagine with my mind’s eye that I do.
He gets me.
Even the parts of me that aren’t perfect – are annoying to myself and to others – the parts that I wish I could change in a nanosecond, but for some reason He chooses a long journey to accomplish – the parts that I can’t seem to change on my own. He sees past that and loves me through that and gently instructs me on the parts that I need to deal with and change.
He gets me.
So I have to rest in that. And I rest in the fact that there are those around me who can be His arms in the flesh, His touch in the natural, His tender voice in the physical. That’s what community is all about right? Being Jesus in the flesh to others.
Psalm 63:6-8 (NIV)
On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night. Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. I cling to you; your right hand upholds me.
When I have these days, I remember. I remember this weightiness, this feeling of needing comfort, this very real space in my heart that only He can fill. I remember it because I want to recall it when I see someone else experiencing the same thing. I want to recall and be able to truly “rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.” I want to be able to comfort those who are hurting and celebrate victories with those who are making headway on this journey.
I’m thankful today that He uses everything to teach us all things. I’m thankful today that even in the not-so-pretty moments of this journey, He reminds me that I can sing a psalm, a hymn, a spiritual song and uplift my own soul.
Psalm 103: 1-5 (NIV)
Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits—who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
I’m learning on this journey that sometimes we need one another to be Jesus in the flesh. I’m learning on this journey, as well, that sometimes I need to lift my own soul up, remind myself that this too shall pass and lean into what I already know: He is always good. He is always faithful. He always loves me, every last part of me.
Learning how to balance leaning on others and doing what David did, “quieting my own soul” can be quite the challenge.
I’m still working on it. But I’m up for some company along the way.