It's often referred to as the
path we take or the road one travels through life. In doing so we give the
impression that it may have been smooth or well-worn.
I am here to tell you that whenever I look back at the
trail left behind I see it pitted and potholed for sure. It certainly wasn't all
smooth. It was at times easier to travel perhaps, but never well paved.
From my vantage point right here and now I rest for a
moment to try and take it all in.
Of course, I cannot see the twists and turns in the
road, nor the rising and falling on the horizon. I can only see what I remember.
Wait. Let me clarify that. I see what I "choose" to
remember.
At this point in my life I believe they refer to it as
"selective memory."
I will admit that at times I have chosen to see the
challenges, the falling down and not the getting up. I have followed the trail
of tears that really took me to places I said I wanted to forget.
I guess I didn't.
I chose to see the pain and anguish over the healing
and joy that followed after a time.
I am getting better at it, really. I have learned to
filter those moments of loss or poor choices by looking at them through the eyes
of God.
When I go there, I now hear "Take my hand, I will lead
you back."
I return then to this point in time, wipe away the
tears and stand a little taller knowing that I did in fact get through it all.
He said I would. How could I have doubted Him?
Today I am on the eve of one of those times. I sit
here struggling with "what might have been." Like poking at a scab that is
better left to healing.
We all do it.
Why?
Why do we torture ourselves with worry? Why do we
profess a faith in God, tell him to take care of everything and then return to
take it all back?
"Let go, Let God" is easier said than done.
I am learning to leave it there in Hid trust a little
more each day. I must. For there is no one Greater to give my troubles to.
I know you understand. You have done it, too, I'm
sure.
Okay, it's done. I will not worry any more... today.
All I need to do is look at her standing there in front of me and my doubts and
fears melt away.
Tomorrow, January 12th, it will be 7 years since my
wife, Marianne, had her cancer removed. It was a difficult road to travel, but
she is here.
So am I.
So is He.
Bob Perks
bobperks@comcast.net
The Illustrator: This daily newsletter is dedicated to encouraging
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