I sit to write this evening with too much I'm learning and little feeling of resolve. It is like I am in a valley with mountains climbed behind me and mountains to climb around me. Yet, I can't apply directly what I've learned to the place through which I'm traveling. I'm on a journey through a Death Valley I've never seen before. I don't know what will bite or attack me around the next bend in the woods. The comfort of the moment is surrounded by strange noises from the bush. Do you ever go through times like this? The pain of the Haitians is almost too much to consider. You may be able to quote chapter and verse of God's love and sovereignty and can rest, as I am doing, on the mystery that God is good all the time. Yet, you're reminded of the horror of suffering in other countries, the co-worker who is killed leaving a young family behind, the door you longed to enter slammed, and the uncertainty and bleakness of tomorrow still to be faced. It leaves you numb.
I'm thankful that times like these are not the norm. Joy does come in the morning. Yet, as Ecclesiastes reminds us, wisdom is more often gained in the house of mourning than the house of revelry.
I'm praying there is something supernaturally wonderful in store for the souls of our Haitian friends. What are your thoughts as you hear of those in Haiti?
Philippians 4:6-7 and Proverbs 3:5 have been verses I've clung to this past week. What promises comfort you through life's valleys?
