Five minutes, every Friday, to say in writing what you struggle to give voice to.
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
Everything about this whispers steadiness to me. Whispers to just let go and be. Which almost feels funny, because those things are the very last thoughts in my heart these past few days. Joyful and patient and faithful. Steadiness and being.
Stay the course. Light a spark. Change the world where’er you are.
I want to act, loudly and rashly. I want to run until I can’t keep my legs moving forward. I want to lash out, to give justification to my unresolvedly frustrated insides. I want to close the gap between me and peace.
Except that peace isn’t a place to be run to. It’s a Father who sits beside me when I want to act and run and lash out. Peace is a gift that is in me, ready for arms outstretched to grasp and receive and commit.
I don’t want to stay the course today. I don’t want to be joyful and patient and faithful. My flesh cries out for something polar opposite to that. Which is how I know that I need to stay the course more than ever. That I need to fight for joy and patience and faithfulness, even when they are not so easily found.