A Spring of Joy

“It is here, where we happen to be at this moment and not in another place or another time, that we may learn to love Him – here where it seems He is not at work, where His will seems obscure or frightening, where He is not doing what we expected Him to do, where He is most absent. Here and nowhere else is the appointed place. If faith does not go to work here, it will not go to work at all.” –Elisabeth Elliot

Recently, our friend, Rick posted on his facebook status “Rick still has a kid with cancer…”

I broke down when I read that. Of course, I break down every time I read Rick and Jessie’s blog, and whenever I talk about Andrew or pray for their family, and whenever I get off the phone after an hour long conversation with Jessie.

The thing about Facebook is that you can read into his words (that’s one of the huge downsides I’ve found on FB, but that’s another post for another time). Some people might take it as a “Wow. This is crazy…” or “I still can’t believe it…” or “it’s not over, even though things are calmer…” or as a plea to not forget them or as just a statement of overwhelming fact or something else entirely. I don’t know fully what was wrapped up in Rick’s status, but I do know this.

Rick and Jessie still have a son with cancer.

Still…

And I know how all of “still” feels. It’s been 2 1/2 years for us, and I still don’t know if we’re done. I still face needles next week and the panic attacks that come before them and scans and waiting. I’m still in pain, a lot of pain, y’all. I’m still in limbo. I’m still lonely and I still long for physical companionship as I walk this road. Bri and I still haven’t been in real community for 2 1/2 years in our church. And as much as people “do” for us, I still often feel very forgotten by people I thought would never forget. I’m still scared. I’m still clinging.

But it’s not just little Andrew or me…

It’s everyone around me.

Still a single mother.

Still lost a baby.

Still is a widower.

Still lost their parent.

Still has a spouse or child deployed.

Still longs for marriage.

Still has an addiction.

Still can’t get pregnant.

Still was abused.

Still is an orphan.

Still lives in Haiti.

Still has no diagnosis for years of pain.

Still has no job.

We still live in a fallen world.

But I also know my God says to me, “Be still and know that I am God.”

Do you know what peace covers me when I read those words or when I hear Him speaking them into my wounded heart?

I’m not talking about the “be still” part… I mean the I AM GOD part.

And I still believe.

God is still on His throne.

He still grieves with me.

He still sent His son.

He still forgives me every time I fall.

He still loves me.

He still smiles when He thinks of me

He still holds me.

He still has me inscribed in the palm of His hands.

He still is unchanging and eternal.

He still remembers every heartache, every fear, every pain.

He. still. wins.

He is still here.

Today.

Tomorrow.

Still.