I know little about anything.
That is what I’ve learned these past few weeks.
I can’t really explained how I learned this, but it just happened. I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life last week. The hardest sweetest thing I’ve ever done. And I hesitate to even write about it, for fear of my faint heart that is only strong because of Jesus. Death. Everything that has ever failed at seeming fair has been belittled, and I am left with only one statement written across my chest. “It hardly seems fair”. Everything I’ve fought for in life, has been one-uped.
I watched as a child was born. A child that was not expected to make it through the birth. He didn’t.
There was strength in my heart that I did not think I possessed.
For a split second, the night seemed unbearable.
But the sun awoke, and life began to stir.
Some life, went on to a better home.
And if any good hope inhabits this body of mine, I hope to one day be where this child abides now.
This month has led me to believe one thing:
That pain and suffering is inevitable.
But it is not these things that matter, and still yet, it is not you and I that should be the focal point.
If anything we are to hope. No matter the desperation in our voices, or the millions of tears we shed, or the demanding physical world that never seems to end, or our lack, our want, our desires. All these things hold nothing in the realm of what is to come.
Selfishly, I have been living in my own realm of [hope]. Hoping that things for me will become better.
have never felt more smallish in my entire life.
Heaven is so much bigger than my mind can comprehend.
It is so much bigger than I.