Collateral Damage

 There are times when all of life seems as a great grief and pain. There has been one after another, I can't even track them all now. Continually for months, I think. One right after another. 

Death, death of another yet spared miraculously, and such pain: emotionally, physically. Relationally bereft. 

We are in the midst of a war right now. For all the world. For all our souls. 

I continually hear people striving to come to the end and means of what is at play, of who holds the strings of all these machinations. No one ever goes far enough. 

Friends, my dear friends. God is sovereign, even over all this. And He has judged us, and given us over to the wickedness in our own hearts. What we see on all sides is a reflection of ourselves. 

That is what grieves beyond measure right now, that this would be so...and I cannot plead strongly enough, I cannot muster words with enough fervor and import as to clarify these vital and eternal matters. And I would die of grief, even for that, except that I know He will have His portion. Those for whom Christ died will be saved. There are none who can stay His hand from saving. None. 

Not even my ineptitude and gracelessness. 

Truth and love, though. These matters are at such odds in all the world. 

There are a plethora of insights granted in the past month and some, and a multitude of joys and griefs. Bereft, now, though not of Christ. 

What is my life, though? I am not my own, to be concerned for grief, to be concerned for being reviled. If only I were more like You, Lord. Please, Father, help me to bear up as to be an ensign of Your love. Father, I can't. I simply cannot. 

But I know You did. I know you are able. 

And even just tonight, I've seen the grace that's been granted to me through physical ailments of late. There is something of mitigating the depths of other grief, this way, and of a necessity to separate. You have shielded me from far worse grief, though I couldn't see that even a week ago. 

Through suffering. Through delirium and then continual and mounting pain. Had You not done this...had You not given this other gift of suffering...I would suffer more later, and not just that...but be deceived all the more, now. 

These matters are hard to bear. Harder to endure, in their midst. And even so the waves will come again, I know. Because they continue to do so. I will died a thousand deaths with this one, as it seems. 

I want to suffer well, Lord. Jesus. I can't do this well, except that You carry me wholly. And continually return my gaze to You and my heart to Your love. I cannot, dear Lord. Please help me. For the sake of Your love for them. For him. Please, Father. I cannot do this. 

But I have never been able to do any of these impossible things, this past many years walking with You. I can't even bear to recall them now. 

Help me to rejoice in You in the midst of this, Lord. For there is joy...there is peace. And Your love is sweeter then life, dear God. You are not like us. Your love is pure and wholly giving, holy, holy, holy indeed. Untainted by lusts, wholly pure. Absolutely pristine. Giving and giving and in all humility--even as the God of all--condescending to guard and guide Your own. According to the good pleasure of Your will and love for us in Christ. 

Father, please...free me from these burdens. Let me lay them down. Help me to do so. To walk in the light of love, pure and unadulterated. That You would be manifest. 

I am nothing Lord, but a city which was not left forsaken. And yet...nothing. Except that You guard and guide, there is nothing but darkness. 

Father, there is this outcropping...this group. And I don't know Your will here. But I know Your will, of all, and in the whole. And I know You. So please, Lord. Your will be done. Here and ever. 

I love these people, Lord. Help me to love them well. According to truth. Selflessly. 

I am nothing. You are all which is needed. I can do no more. I have no words, except You give grace. And even to be honest, Lord--please keep me on the path of honor and dignity toward all those present. I falter, and flail, in the pain. And I hate that, Father. I hate it. 

Please, let me love my friends as You love them. I cannot do this unless You help. Lord, please. For Your sake and for theirs. That they would know You and the truth of Your love and the power of Your death and resurrection, unto life eternal. Whatever the cost Lord, You paid it all...I am just weak and feeble and faltering and flailing and a mess, Father. Please...please have mercy. Help me to do what is right and good and loving and kind, without regard for myself. Let me lay that down. Please. 

Even as I died with You, please let me walk in the light of that reality all the more fully.