Friday, May 24, 2013


Let me start by saying that this blog is inspired by a daily devotional called Streams in the Desert.  This particular devotion comes from May 15. 

So many times our life becomes defined by moments, moments when the hurt runs deep.
A phone call from the Dr. with test results, calling for more tests. 
A cold conversation with the love of your life one morning starting with "I am leaving you" and ending with "I have found someone else". 
A late night knock on your door from a highway-patrol officer. 
The sullen nod, left to right, from the Dr. as he enters the waiting room.
When Soldiers in Class A uniforms are standing on  your front porch.

These moments rip the "happy" out of our lives and leave us reaching and longing for something more, something better than just a face full of smiles and soft luscious meadows with spring flowers we now know how easily it all can be taken from us. When the pain of sorrow enters our soul we see nothing but the dark gloomy clouds that hover over us day after day.  What if I said to you that my sorrowful days have been the best, that deep hurt that still brings me to my knees, pleading for answers has become my anchor?  The pressure from my pain has been used to seep the fulfillment of His promises from my heart.   What if I said a soul that is always light hearted and cheerful may often miss the deepest things in life and the capacity of their heart I believe is often wasted.

Men see not the bright light which is in the clouds. (Job 37:21)
If only we could see clouds from above-in all their billowing glory, bathed in reflective light, and as majestic of the Alps-we would be amazed at their shining magnificence. We see the clouds only from below, so who will describe for us the "bright light" that bathes their summits, searches their valleys, and reflects from every peak of their expanse?  Doesn't every drop of rain in them soak up health-giving qualities, which will later fall to earth? (Streams in the Desert: 365 Daily Devotional Readings)
When the storm clouds roll in, in that season of traumatic grief, we have no way of truly seeing the beauty of the storms from above.  I am sure I read this a year ago today at some point, in that season I thought, "UGH, I don't even care what the clouds look like from above, what good does that do me, I am here and the clouds are dark, the rain is heavy, and the thunder rolls so loudly I can't focus on anything but the darkness of the storm."  This morning I read this and I thought about what the sky looks like as you ascend through the dark storm clouds in a plane.  You finally reach the top, the "bright light",  it does bathe all that you can see for miles and miles.  I pictured that image and thought this must be a glimpse of what our sorrows look like from above.  The bright light the God casts above us as we trust in Him and when we hold His hand in times of sorrow and allow His word, the light unto our path, to narrate our story of Hope. 

To be immersed in the valley of the shadow of death and to seep from your heart God's glory and His light is miraculous. I am so thankful for the many friends that God has brought into my life who have bathed me with their light and shared their dark clouds with me, clinged to my hurt, held my hand, and kept me on the path of glory.

"Evidence" ~Susan Duke