Three weeks ago, my knees hit the cold, sterile floor of the hospital ER; my body taking on the posture of my heart after a myriad of words rush towards me, "chest pains, heart rate is at 180, it is an attack, we will try to shock his heart back in rhythm."
I cry out for my Father's perspective. I grieve the momentary losses of this world with the lover of my soul. I offer thanksgiving that my dad's fate is sealed in Him. I mercifully ask for tears and laughter.
They put my earthly father to sleep, and uncertain if he will wake up in our arms or the glory of His Father's embrace, I cling all the tighter to my Heavenly Father's promises, shakily asking for His will to be done, not mine.
Out of words, I allow His Word to rain down on my soul through tears. I hold fast to the words of Isaiah; I sing His psalms.
For a moment, I look up from the solace of His Word, and through blurry eyes, I see bright white teeth framed by ebony skin walk past me boldly urging, "Don't stop what you are doing. It is working."
Words spoken by a doctor who knew not why I was there. The Father moving to me through another; the eyes of my heart a little less blurry, receiving His divine message to me.
The unseen becomes so clear when the seen is chaos.
His comfort not only surrounds, it abounds.
Thank you, Abba.
Shocked back to rhythm.
My father awakes cracking jokes; his ER room erupts in laughter.
The Father answers me in grace, laughter amongst tears.
Thank you, Abba.
I sit in the ICU soothed by the steady beep of machines and cherished memories. I drift to peanut butter-banana sandwiches; worn-out moccasin house-shoes; the brown leather Bible on the nightstand copyright 1978, the year before I was born; your "yes" must be "yes" and "no" must be "no;" promises are never meant to be broken...constants of my dad; lessons learned.
Lewis Smedes writes, "that promising is the means to freedom. In promising, you limit options now, in order to have wonderful, fuller options later. You curb your freedom now, so that you can be free to be there in the future for people who trust you. 'You have created a small sanctuary of trust within the jungle of unpredictability.'"
My promise-keeping dad with the unpredictable heartbeat.
Every heartbeat can be an attack...an attack on the continually changing seen in exchange for the constant of the unseen...an attack on the fearful and fallible self-protection for the further understanding of the provision of Christ...He is our Sanctuary within the jungle of unpredictability.
Within each heartbeat is a divine mystery, a manna moment for the soul, just as the Israelites nourished themselves on the mystery that rained down from the Heavens.
The unknown of each heartbeat holds the possibility of faith-picking with the Great Promise Keeper...
His Promise is our freedom if we but trust the mystery of the manna.
"He that has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith to the churches; To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna." Revelation 2:17
Oh Jill, please do a book, its amazing.
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