drawing near

“everything has a purpose – I love you.” And signed. It was the most simple note – the first part written in simple code, the whole thing on a scrap of paper no bigger than the palm of my hand.

            I’d just finished a discussion with my parents that had ended probably not in the most constructive way ever – a discussion we’d had many times before; one I’d grown tired of, and understood all of, and which culminated in my yelling something to that point as I exited the kitchen, taking the laptop out of my backpack with me on my way upstairs. I hadn’t yelled unkindly, but it was disrespectful, and that’s discouraging because I have honestly been trying to show them more respect in general.

The note fell out of that space between the screen and the keyboard as I plunked the laptop down on my bed and pried it open. I read it once and began to cry.

Today was the most bloody awful day I’ve had in several years, and yesterday did nothing but lead up to it. Something I’ve hardly ever experienced before has also been happening over the past two days, though – I’m learning that God doesn’t abandon people.

Yeshua doesn’t leave His children to cry alone. It’s the company of a sunset playing the tears down your face, or the friend who accosts you on the way out of the meeting and asks if you’re all right. His LOVE is never absent. “Rock-solid and lonely” becomes sought by many tealight flames in the dark, flames to make that rock remember why its inside is still glowing – steady and deep. We are never attacked unless we hold something valuable – something the enemy wants to take away – I’ve been on the receiving end of so many small gestures yesterday and today. It’s almost impossible to recollect the huge variety of people God was able to use to make me feel remembered; people whom I love, who did small things like share their Coke or ask me to take a picture. I want to be able to appreciate those people in the way that I feel appreciated right now.

Who have you hugged today? Make a difference for them.