While I had the best plans for a productive week, unbeknownst to us, my husband had other plans. Most of the week, he has been down with a stomach flu which somewhat threw a wrench in my productivity. I also was afflicted with a paralyzing fear this week that stifled a good portion of my days. So, that said, I am glad to be back with my blog buddies. And, as they say, we’re about to get up! “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory” 2 Cor. 4:17

What is there about being totally in God’s presence that we become so acutely aware of our own sin and often our pain? In Isaiah 6, when the young prophet saw the Lord seated high and lifted up on His throne in the splendor of His glory, angels were singing all around, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord almighty. The whole earth is full of his glory.” Immediately, in the holiness of His presence, Isaiah was filled with sorrow, “Woe is me. For, I am a man of unclean lips.” Could it be that in our human state and in the presence of the holy, our only response is how depraved we are, how unworthy?

Tuesday evening, I could hardly sit through Bible study, without looking away, looking down, looking inward. The music called my heart to Him. We sang, “Hallelujah, What a Savior,” and heard Mac Powell sing “By His Wounds We are Healed.” I was at His Feet, and all I could do was turn away, knowing my heart was so burdened with a lack of faith. I was consumed by fear and helplessness because my daughter was at that very hour getting on a plane (actually three planes and two buses) to go to the Andes mountains of Chile to do a leadership course through the fourth of February. I was totally in fear’s grip. You need to know that I know she is competent. But I have this picture: she’s cold and wet, and lonely, and afraid. She is sea kayaking and hiking in the mountains very near Antarctica, and she voluntarily signed up for this. It was a graduation present to herself. I am so not ambitious and have no desire to prove myself in any way, so I don’t pretend to comprehend this type of mindset. I have incredible restraint. I started to say ludicrousness. Well, I guess I did. I don’t get it, but it is a huge lesson in my letting go. She’s 23 years old, for goodness sake, but she’s still about 10 in my eyes and needs me. Lord, give me faith to know she is in the best Hands of all. She never was mine to begin with—only on loan from You. I need to know You are speaking to her and wooing her unto You. Use it for good, Lord. And keep her warm and safe beneath your wing. And by your wounds, we are healed. In the saving Name of Christ, Amen.