A matter of perspective

It’s been a little random here at the Wright House.

Monday a fence was installed in the back yard for our Little Girl Maisie. It’s a beautiful thing and will give her a place to run some of that amazing energy contained in her small frame.

I came in to prepare supper and the pan I reached for under the sink was full of water. Other things stored there were also full.  The floor of the lower cabinet was soaked and sloping, the pressed wood giving way to the weight of pots and pans.  I began to pull things out. This is not the first time for a leak under the sink.  And each time it just about pushes me over the edge a little bit more.

Sweet William called for help, and his good brother responded to our S.O.S.  Still it would be a few days of all things stored underneath now sitting on table tops and counters. And the fan runs insistently under the cabinet.  Cooking will be minimal and clean up a pain.

In addition to that, I’ve been dealing with something I can’t quite explain, like low-grade anxiety. Several factors and life situations could be contributing.  One more was added with the kitchen situation. When lots of big and little things pile up, I begin to feel weighed down, drowning in it all, looking for a life preserver.

Times like this I go back and read old journals to find out what was happening last year, two years ago or more.  I suppose I am hoping to find some pattern or perhaps a different angle that will help me.

This morning I went to an earlier year and read the months of May to July.  I came upon an entry that brought me to tears just like it did that very year.

I was troubled and weighed down- again – with heartbreak and illness bearing down on my soul. Feelings were raw  Seclusion was my established self-protection. I wondered what, why, how long.

My journal entry recorded that I received an email from a sweet young friend who was serving the Lord with her husband in a far away land.  She wrote that she had been awakened in the middle of the night several times to pray for us.

Her night was my day, the time when I carried my sorrow, cried my tears, and wondered where my God was. She counted it a privilege to be awakened and to pray for someone on the other side of the globe. Her words of encouragement and precious Scripture promises brought more tears, but this time they were tears of wonder and thanksgiving that the Father whom we both serve united us through His Spirit, prayer and email.

And why is it that a God who cannot be contained in the highest of heavens or the depths of the earth would be concerned about me and my piddling problems? Why does He focus on this blue and green planet, so small in the universe? I don’t know how or why, and yet I know I am dear to His heart.

While I was wondering where He was in my pain those few years ago, He was waking my friend in the middle of the night to pray for me. And her email arrived at just the time I was in my deep despair, the very time I needed to hear from someone, somewhere.

So often I need a change in perspective. Looking at life differently. Seeing the big picture along with the small details.

Today’s challenges and problems can engulf my vision until I have no sight for the beauty around me, for the kindness of friends and a brother-in-law who comes when we are needy, for the bounty of good things God supplies in various and wonderous ways.

I ask for forgiveness and eyes to see, for wisdom to understand that God’s heart is always for me even when circumstances seem to be against me. Perhaps I will learn one of these days that no matter what I face today, my Lord will be a strong tower of defense, a shelter in my storm, a light at the end of my tunnel, a breath of fresh air in my devastation.

He is a good God. He knows when I cry and He brings relief.  He is not far away or unconcerned. He is near and faithfully working all things – All Things – for my good and for His glory.

May it be so that He is glorified in it all.

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3 thoughts on “A matter of perspective

  1. Pingback: Winged gifts | strengthened by grace

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