We'd love to hear how God's Word has been nourishing you.}
Awake! Why are you sleeping, O Lord?
Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever!
Why do you hide your face?
Why do you forget our affliction and oppression?
For our soul is bowed down to the dust;
our belly clings to the ground.
Rise up; come to our help!
Redeem us for the sake of your steadfast love!
She's stuck. Gone numb to the needs around her.
She wishes for the tears to come to water the dryness and barrenness of her heart
then she shoves them down when they threaten to flood her soul.
Dishes stack up in the sinks, laundry piles spill over in the halls
till her little one wonders where all her clean underwear is.
The list of to-dos would be endless if she cared to write them all down.
It's easier to pretend that there is nothing to do when you can't do them yourself.
What do these things matter anyway?
The world has gone mad.
Why should she care if the beds are made?
Rain breaks from heaven like unstoppable tears.
Thunder roars and lightening flashes across the sky like there is something
to pay attention to.
Something beckons her to look.
She turns her face toward the sky.
There are slivers of light;
Speckles of blue sky in the fast moving storm clouds.
Day after day she will wake up and notice that she did.
Her heart kept beating.
The storm rages on
the madness races on.
Day after day she will speak to her own soul.
Hope in God.
It appears in this world that He may be asleep.
That while she lays low in the dust
she must cry out for Him
to wake up.
to Rise up.
to Come and rescue us from ourselves.
To Redeem us from the darkness
for the sake of His steadfast love.
Nothing will separate her from His love.
It's in the slivers of light and speckles of blue sky:
The way her brother comes and empties the dishwasher,
and friends bend their knees, and pick up the phone
to boldly speak truth to her in her darkness,
the way her husband keeps on loving her,
and her sisters know the ache and cry for her,
and her sister-in-laws cook meals for her,
and her Mama comes and helps to get things in order,
and her Dad holds her,
and her children need her to laugh at the days to come.
It's in the snuggles, coos and smiles of her niece,
the belly laughter of her nephews,
the sweetness of watermelon, and maple syrup on waffles,
and strawberry jam surprises,
the zucchini loaf, and cookies and spaghetti sauce
made lovingly by her nieces,
and Lincoln Logs villages her boy made in the living room,
and precious prayers with her daughter in the morning,
and the way he kisses her fast pulse on her neck at night,
and clean underwear for her baby girl on a new day.
It's the way the sunsets in their lives
and promises to rise again in their love.
Joy comes in the morning.
She looks back.
She remembers.
She speaks to her soul.
She may be stuck, but not forsaken.
God never slumbers or sleeps.
He will not let her go.
In the darkest of days,
He is Light.
In the hatred in the world,
He is Love.
In the brokenness in the world,
He is Peace.
In all things,
He is Sovereign.
Come to our help.
Make things right
and new
and beautiful.
Come, Lord Jesus
She cries with the saints who long for Him to
Come.
" (pp122-123) 
