Out of the Darkness

When I wrote The Big Fatigue Bus, my heart was so heavy with so much, and I couldn't seem to make sense of it all. But I knew that the thing I could do was trust my Jesus. I read a poem about letting go of things so that your hands could be free for God to fill them up with His blessings. Sometimes when I'm really struggling with something, I don't even really know what "things" I am holding on to. I wanted to let them go, but I couldn't see them. It was dark in my cup full of sorrow.

I am so thankful that I have a Heavenly Father who is so kind and patient and full of grace. He lovingly and gently brushed away the darkness so that His light could shine. Now I see that I was afraid. I am in a wheelchair because I can't walk. But I can still stand up a little. Just enough to transfer to my bed and the car, but most importantly, to be able to go to the bathroom by myself.  Standing up has been more difficult lately. My balance is all off and my legs don't cooperate very well. I am afraid of losing that little bit of independence.

I can see now that I have been holding on to that pretty tightly. I don't have the strength to let that one go, but I know Someone who does. I can come to Jesus and ask Him to help me, to take away my fear. My whole life is in His hands, so I don't need to worry about keeping a hold of anything. His hands are bigger and infinitely stronger, and so much more capable than mine.

So here I am, free to raise my empty hands up in praise to my Lord Jesus Christ. What do I get in return? Jesus. What more do I need? He is altogether lovely and He loves me, He loves me, He loves me.  He has promised to take care of me. I believe Him.

But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light. 
(1 Peter 2:9)

That's me, His own special daughter, singing His praises in His marvelous light.