Holding on to Isaiah 61. Lord, You promised us mourners a crown instead of ashes. Gladness. A garment of praise in place of a spirit of despair.
Instead of your shame there shall be a double portion; instead of dishonor they shall rejoice in their lot; therefore in their land they shall possess a double portion; they shall have everlasting joy.
How incredibly hard it is, still, to forgive myself. To accept things that did not happen for me. My soul is rejecting the “maybe-it-wasn’t-for-me” quip and I don’t know why. I want to move forward without reservation, without a rearview glance, but I do not have the strength again.
I am grateful I can come to Jesus with my hard questions. I can ask Him the whys and the why nots and the is this still redeemable kinds and He is not one bit fazed. I don’t even fend Him off. He doesn’t run away even at the ugly questions that expose my heart, questions that sound like why them? But not me?
At the foot of the cross I find that if I sit long enough I care less about the answers. I just wanna sit there. I just wanna be there. O, what I could give to be at my Father’s house – something that’s not available for me here. No father. No house. But Jesus, oh man, He’s preparing a place for me. I would trade it all to be able to go there. To dance with my Bridegroom.
I will greatly rejoice in the Lord ; my soul shall exult in my God, for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
Isaiah 61. The year of the Lord’s favor. May it really be so, unto all of us, according to the riches of His mercy.