the wind and waves

All is not right. There is a very real discord here in this gap between heaven and earth, and it's impossible to ignore anymore. But we keep moving, and eating, and laughing, until it's too much and we're too tired and then the grief and the fear comes like waves and we are down, immersed, drowning, until the grace comes and lifts us out of it, gasping and exhausted. And we lay on the shore of our own pain and try desperately to connect, to hold on to each other, so completely human, and not swipe with weapons of blame and doubt.

And then it's morning, and maybe it will be okay, and life always carries on, always, so there are babies and laundry and bills and we forget, for a minute, that injustice is alive and well in our living room.

And always, always, He is there. I ignore Him, I blame Him, I question Him. I beg Him for answers and I negotiate. His presence hurts more than His absence, or what seems like His absence. I try to earn His comfort and find it despite myself.

So we fight to find our balance, to live and not just survive, to walk through the Valley faithfully. How do you live in the storm without being washed away? How do you cling when the winds are unmerciful? The only comfort is Him, who I know Him to be, because He never lets go. Help my unbelief, You never let go.